When my spirit is low You’ll catch it And carry it on your back. You’ll fly through the gardens And into town. You’ll fly past the bright streetlights With my spirit holding on tight. You’ ll use your silent magic And light up one last time. Then you’ll fly into my backyard Up through my window As the summer breezes blow. You’ll gently drop my spirit over me. And with my spirit all lit up And shining bright I’ll sleep peacefully through the summer night With visions of lightning bugs in my mind. Sarah Dougherty, 11Jenkintown, Pennsylvania
March/April 2001
Basketball Free-Throw
Taking the basketball from the referee in my raw, steamy hands, I felt the gym getting chillier when I stood still. This was the very first time so many people were depending on me—l wasn’t used to it. My face, blood-red after running and jumping for an exceptionally long time, had broken out into a cold sweat, as had the rest of my body. Funny; I had been scorching hot a few seconds before. With veins throbbing violently in my throat, my eyes darted down to the flaming orange ball that I held in my shaky hands. I wanted it to stay there perpetually, never to leave and try its luck making it into the hoop. I had never really paid attention to all the billions of tiny little bumps which coated it. Today, they were starting to make me feel especially dizzy. It seemed like an eternity for everyone to get lined up, but at last, they did. Anxiously, my gaze lifted up toward my teammates’ faces. Unmistakably written all over was a mixture of hope and belief. I was hypnotized by their eyes, waiting eagerly for the moment that would come soon. Too soon, if you ask me. I wasn’t sure I was ready. It was only one shot, and no more—no second chance. I gulped as these thoughts rushed through my head like an express train, one after another, moving so rapidly they seemed like a blur. My coach’s eyes were fixed on me, like a hawk watching its prey’s each and every move. Her clipboard in hand and whistle around her strong neck, she didn’t seem to be distracted by anything, as if in a trance. She bit her lip and appeared to be waiting with hopes rising in her heart. After our team had come this far, the least I could do was attempt to win us this game Instantly, all the moisture drained away from my throat as I caught a glimpse of my opponent; the girl who had been watching me all throughout the game like a bloodthirsty wolf. As hard as I tried, I could not tear my eyes away from her. Even though she wore a blinding white shirt like the others on her team, she stood out—at least to me. Her vicious sapphire eyes had sparks of ice dancing in them, and were as frosty as the expression on her face. A chill slithered over me, raising goosebumps on my legs and arms, and I shivered as I tried to gain control of my body again. The soft, whispery voices of the crowd above were echoing through my head. I began to feel dazed, and felt like pinching myself with my clammy hands to make sure that this wasn’t a dream. No, a feeling making me this apprehensive could only come in real life. The basketball now seemed ponderous in my weak hands, so I gripped it firmer to make sure it wouldn’t fall and cause a scene. At last, I knew the time was right. I couldn’t stall any longer, no matter how much I wished to. This one shot was worth a thousand words to me . . . How much I always wanted to be the one actually helping my team, not just running around trying to catch the rebounds, which I never really succeeded in. Always, a longer arm would shoot up in front of me and grab it for her own. But now it was my turn. I felt the power that the others had, but not the courage. I gripped the glowing ball harder and let it go, waiting for it to hit the ground and bounce. BOOM!!! It made such a noise, it seemed like the world had awakened from the dead. I did it once more, and got into the shooting position, trying not to tremble. Suddenly, I realized something. The basket seemed smaller, farther away. My arms seemed to weaken, giving up on me. I wasn’t sure I could throw the ball that far. I began to wonder how all the other players had made it. What was the difference between them and me? They were all brave enough to at least try, my mind said, and if they were, so are you. I had to agree. After our team had come this far, the least I could do was attempt to win us this game. I did my best to balance myself on my insecure knees, and jump, throwing the glistening orange ball with all my might as far and as high as I could manage . . . Inci Atrek, 11Sunnyvale, California Fraser Poorman, 9Weston, Florida
Destiny
Destiny by Vicki Grove; G. P. Putnam’s Sons: New York, 2000; $16.99 D0 you believe in fate? Do you believe that our lives all have a certain destiny? Or do you believe in free will? These are the main questions that the book Destiny, by Vicki Grove, grapples with. The title, Destiny, doesn’t just refer to fate, though. The main character of this novel is named Destiny Louise Capperson. Destiny is a powerful name. In ancient Greek mythology, Zeus, the god of the sky, and Themis, goddess of justice and law, had children called the Destinies. The Destinies were three sisters “born from the just heavens” who measured and snipped the threads of life. However, that’s not what Destiny Capperson does. She has chores like hauling around half-rotten potatoes for local folks to buy. Destiny Capperson is an artistic girl born into a life of chaos. Virginia, her mother, is a high-school dropout who believes that she will win the lottery because a telephone psychic tells her that “something good, big and soon” is going to happen to the Cappersons in the form of “moola.” Jack, Destiny’s stepfather, is a bad-hearted and lazy bum who has resorted to harmful actions just to get money. Nathan, Ethelene, and Roberta are the younger siblings that complete Destiny’s family. When Nathan was younger, maybe five or six, he got his legs crunched in a car accident—or supposedly an accident. Jack had been driving his truck, with Nathan in it, and another car rammed into it. Nathan’s legs got smashed forward, and with the impact, were crushed. At least, that’s the story that Jack tells (but you can’t always believe Jack). Destiny tries to help out her family by getting a part-time job reading to a retired Latin teacher whose eyes are going bad. Mrs. Peck, the teacher, tells Destiny all about ancient Greek and Roman mythology. That’s where Destiny learns the true origin of her name, about goddesses who controlled the fates of people. Mrs. Peck gives Destiny a book about the ancient myths. When Destiny brings the book home, she finds a picture of Mrs. Peck inside that she uses for her bookmark. But when Nathan sees the photograph of Mrs. Peck, he immediately screeches, “That’s the bad lady! She was in the other car that crunched my legs!” That’s when Destiny’s world turns upside down. I love all of the ties to Greek and Roman mythology in this book because I adore reading the ancient myths myself. Destiny learns all about the gods and goddesses from Mrs. Peck, and I learned mythology from a Latin teacher, too! In my school, all of the students have to take a mythology test every year. We study and study for it, and our Latin teacher tells us all sorts of myths. Although Destiny doesn’t have to take a mythology test, Mrs. Peck does tell her the stories of the gods and goddesses. When Mrs. Peck tells Destiny that her namesakes were “born from the just heavens,” Destiny begins to feel as if she was born right out of the sky, too, instead of being the child of dreamy, scheming Virginia Capperson and some man that she doesn’t even know. Vicki Grove does a wonderful job of “painting” her characters. Take Virginia Capperson, for instance. Can’t you just see her in the following paragraph? My mother sank to a chair and buried both hands in her short blond hair. You could see the purple acrylic nails she bought herself for her twenty-ninth birthday last summer shining through. Vicki Grove also describes the people in her story through dialogue. Jack has the slang tone of an uneducated truck driver. Mrs. Peck uses perfect grammar, just as you would expect a teacher to do. Destiny talks like any normal kid, and Virginia always sounds as if life just hit her hard in the face and she still wants to ignore it. Vicki Grove makes it clear that each character has his or her own little world, and you find out more and more about each of the worlds as you read this great book. Consider it your fate to read Destiny. Adrienne Raphel, 11St. Johnsbury, Vermont
