March/April 2008

Big Dreams for Number Seven

When Alicia awoke she first thought she was in heaven. Indeed, everything around her was white: the sheets, the curtains, the furnishings. She sat up in bed and instantly felt a shot of pain course through her knee. She lay back down and stared at the ceiling. Then it came back to her: it had been the fourth quarter with thirty seconds to go and Alicia’s basketball team, the Bulls, were in the lead by one point against the Devil Rays in the championship game. The recipe for disaster. Alicia had been shoving with the other team’s center in the low post when the shot went up from the point guard. She vaguely remembered jumping up against the center for the rebound… and then the other girl had hooked her knee and Alicia had collapsed to the floor. The last thing she remembered was her coach’s worried face above her. And thinking that she had just got her game high record: forty-two points. A doctor came in. “You took a nasty spill there. A ripped tendon in your knee. We’ve done the surgery.” “How long will it take to get better?” said Alicia, feeling dread seep through her chest. “About a year,” said the doctor, “just for it to heal, of course. After that you’ll have to finish physical therapy. You won’t be able to play next season.” Alicia blinked. Next year she would be a senior. Next year was the year she could get a scholarship to Duke, her dream school. Next year was supposed to be her year to be the best of the best and show it to the world. She was already the best forward on her team. And now she was going to miss her one dream she had had since she was eight years old. “You should really do this, Al. It would be good for you” “No basketball,” she repeated. “I’m afraid so. It’s a bad tear.” Alicia sat back. That was all she could take in for now. She wondered if the Bulls had won the championship. *          *          * Alicia’s mother and father drove her home and helped her up the stairs of their house. She was still getting used to the crutches she had been given. Alicia then sat in a chair across from her parents. Alicia’s family was not poor but they were not wealthy. She knew that her parents had wanted nothing more than for their basketball star to get a sports scholarship to one of the best schools in the nation. “There it goes,” Alicia said. “There goes what?” Alicia’s mother asked, looking sad. “My opportunity to get a scholarship.” Alicia knew that her parents would try to make it sound like it didn’t really matter. But she knew better than that. It was her father who had first told her about scholarships in sports and taught her how to play basketball. “Alicia, you know that’s not the only dream in the world. There are other things that matter. Like academics.” There it was. Her father was trying to put a good face on things. Her parents stood up and went into the kitchen. Alicia hobbled upstairs and collapsed onto her bed. She couldn’t deal with the fact that she would probably not play any college basketball. Or make it to the WNBA. Just then the phone rang. Alicia picked it up and saw on her caller ID that it was her coach. “Hi, Alicia. I thought you’d want to know who won the game,” he said. “Yeah, I do! Did we win?” Alicia crossed her fingers again, anxiously awaiting his answer. “The Bulls won, Alicia. And I hope you know that we couldn’t have done it without you. The Devil Rays couldn’t get another shot off.” Alicia let out a relieved breath. But then again, she felt the same as she had before. What was the point if she couldn’t play next year? “That’s great,” she managed to say. “Thank you.” “You know that there were scouts at that game. Forty-two points must have looked pretty promising to them, don’t you think? How’s your knee, Alicia?” “I can’t play next year.” “Your family told me. But today I saw this brochure for basketball summer camps for girls. They’re looking for coaches. Sounds like just the thing you could do while still healing. I’ll drop it off if you want.” Alicia said halfheartedly that it sounded great and then said goodbye. She then lay down on her bed again and fell into a dreamless sleep. *          *          * When Alicia woke up she found the basketball camp brochure on her bedside table. She went downstairs to call Emily King, one of her teammates. Alicia needed to talk to someone. Emily said that she’d come over. When Emily came into Alicia’s room she saw the camp pamphlet. “This looks really fun,” she said. “If Coach had recommended me I wouldn’t hesitate! You should really do this, Al. It would be good for you.” “I can’t even play next season,” Alicia said. “How am I supposed to wrangle a bunch of grade-school girls?” “Come on, Al.” Emily raised her eyebrows. “When we were in fourth grade you were the one who taught me how to play basketball.” “I still don’t know,” said Alicia. “Well I do. Sign up for it, and if you change your mind I’ll do it for you.” After Emily left, Alicia thought about the summer camp. Both her coach and Emily were right. It would be good for her to share her talent with others, even if she couldn’t use it for herself. It might be fun, anyway, teaching her favorite sport to little girls. *          *          * It was now late in June and the first session of the All-Star Girls Basketball Camp was beginning that day. When she arrived at the gym and saw all the little girls she was surprised to realize that for the first time since she had injured

Home, and Other Big Fat Lies

Home, and Other Big Fat Lies by Jill Wolfson; Henry Holt and Company: New York, 2006; $16.95 This story begins when the great and mighty “Termite” gets sent to her twelfth foster home. People call Whitney Termite because she is hyper and small for her age. Whitney has always lived in the city, but this time she is off to go live in the woods. Whitney can tell you a lot about foster parents, but not much about trees. She thinks she will never find a place where she belongs, or a family who loves her. As a reader, at this point I was trying to imagine what it would be like, as an eleven-year-old, to have no mom, dad or even a home. When I read this section of the book, it made me feel bad for Whitney, because she always had to move from foster home to foster home. She was constantly experiencing different things and a lot of changes. This would be very hard for any eleven-year- old, especially for someone who doesn’t have a family to love her. When Whitney gets to her destination, a place in the middle of nowhere called Forest Glen, she soon discovers all the wonderful animals and trees. When she arrives at her new house there is a boy a little older than she is. Whitney wants to talk to the boy, but when she tries to get to know him he seems very shy. He won’t talk to her very much. Soon, Whitney finds out that the boy goes to her school and that his name is Striker. Reading this part of the book, I thought that something special was going to happen between Striker and Whitney. When Whitney goes to her new school for the first time, she meets her science teacher, Mr. Cantor. Mr. Cantor is really nice to Whitney Whitney realizes she doesn’t know much about the woods. She asks Mr. Cantor about them. Mr. Cantor thinks it would be fun and educational to have a club about nature for kids like Whitney When the club meets, all the kids decide that they want to do a year-round project. Mr. Cantor thinks it would be a great idea to adopt a highway When Whitney and all her friends picked up the highway it inspired me and made me feel happy to know other kids feel the way I feel about pollution and littering. My sister and I always pick up the side of our road when people litter too much. We come back with wagons full to the brim with litter. It makes me feel bad to think about littering because the people who are littering are risking the lives of all different kinds of plants and animals. My favorite part of the book is the part where Whitney goes into the woods for the first time one day after school. She is amazed at what she sees. She is especially surprised by a really big tree that has all sorts of voodooist things around it, like candles and wind chimes. Whitney wonders who could have done this. She ends up finding out this is Striker’s favorite tree, which he climbs often and spends lots of time in. I can relate to a person who would put voodoo things around a tree and love being in a tree. I live on a farm in the woods, and when I’m in the woods I feel relaxed. I would highly recommend this book to anyone who knows someone who is a foster child, someone who loves nature like me or anyone who likes a story about love (in this case love for family and nature). This book taught me that foster kids aren’t different from other kids and that nature is really important to everyone. Taylor Megan Potasky,11Holyoke, Massachusetts

A Light Shining Out of the Darkness

Orion padded along through the dense undergrowth, his leather-coated feet silent as death’s cruel hand as they compressed the damp soil. His mother, Selena’s, words, clear and simple as a raindrop, echoed through his head, “I need you to fill this basket with ashberries.” Orion nodded, forgetting that his mother’s words were only a reverie. His elf eyes scanned the bushes, searching for the berries with the gray pallor. These berries were essential if he was to hold up his mother’s reputation as the best healer in the Dawn Woods. Ashberries, his mother had only used them once in his presence. It was also the only time she had ever failed. His father had gone out to hunt, a simple hunt out in the fairly safe Dawn Woods. No one knew that a young male dragon had made a home in a nearby cave where the deer had often lodged for the night. For all that was known, as his father had gone alone, he had entered the cave hoping to find the deer, there was something quite different waiting for him. The dragon had appeared in front of him out of nowhere like a specter and unleashed a ball of burning hatred of all creatures at him and his horse. Hours later his horse limped up to the small cottage and began to neigh. This awoke Selena who came warily outside to a gruesome sight. The beautiful white horse was filthy with ash and soot, its right flank was a different sight. A curling pattern of blood arched down its right flank. Wasn’t white the color of life, not death? Dragging behind it was Orion’s father holding on only by his foot, caught in a stirrup. His body was completely disfigured by oozing burns. Letting out a sigh of relief he began to fill his basket Selena had heaved him inside and into the room where she treated her patients. Orion had been out behind the house at the well, getting a drink of water. He was pouring the water into a cup when he saw his mother dragging the body through the house. “Who’s that, Mommy?” he had drowsily questioned, staring at the unrecognizable body. He had just barely been able to make out his mother’s words, her voice was choked with tears, “Your father.” It took a moment for his child’s mind to register Selena’s words but when it did the effect was devastating for him. He broke down in silent tears at first; giving way to sobbing on the floor and wishing his father had heeded his words, begging him to stay home. Selena had made a mush out of ashberries, the only known cure to dragonfire burns, and she began pasting her husband’s figure with the bland-colored paste. Her tears were flowing freely now and were dripping on the raw-skinned body. Orion’s father had then regained consciousness and the pain had driven him back into dreamful infinity. After hours of grief, the sun had risen, birds were tweeting, bugs were buzzing, but in the little operating room there was no life. The man’s family came in full of hope, only to be sent back to the abject misery that had lasted the nearly endless night. Orion’s father had been buried in the woods, as was custom, for elves’ home is the forest and to be sent off in any other way or buried in any other location would be obscene. There had been no one but his own family to mourn his horrible demise and Orion’s home became a place of silent suffering. Since then Selena had striven harder than ever not to let death arrive at her doorstep again. That morning it seemed that the fateful night had occurred again. A lone stranger arrived at their door in the same bedraggled condition as Orion’s father had. Orion was surprised that the man was even conscious after his exhausting ordeal. He had brought the man in and Selena set to work. Selena opened the drawer labeled Ashberries. It was empty. In her franticness to save her husband, Selena had ravenously used up her entire store of the rare berries. In her grief over her beloved husband’s death, she had not wanted to even look at the berries again, never mind refill her stash. Anyway, what were the chances that she would have to treat someone with dragonfire burns again? Orion was sent to retrieve the final but most important ingredient to the poultice that would save the man’s life. Now he was searching as best he could to keep the stranger from having the same fate as his late father. Finally, after what seemed like years of searching compacted into about an hour, Orion found the ashberry bush. Letting out a sigh of relief, he began to fill his basket. When the basket was overflowing with the gray spheres, he began his trek home with celerity He scampered through the door to the house, slamming it hastily behind him, and bore his precious cargo to his waiting mother. She dismissed him to his room at once, and Selena began crushing the berries with a pestle and mortar. Orion thumped onto his bed, exhausted after his long journey, and instantly fell into a dreamless slumber. When he awoke, he immediately remembered the stranger and hurried into the kitchen. There, sitting at the table and tightly wrapped in bandages, was the man, smiling and happily conversing with Selena, who for the first time in years was truly happy. The happiness that had hidden from sight for years in the midst of her sadness was finally showing itself, a light shining out of the darkness. Jonathan Morris, 12Grantham, New Hampshire Anna Welch, 13Hancock, New Hampshire