May/June 2000

Leaving Emma

Leaving Emma by Nancy Steele Brokaw; Clarion Books: New York, 1999; $15 Having a best friend can make a kid feel like she’s on top of the world. I know, because I have had the same best friend since I was less than two years old. But if something should happen with that best friend, and especially if she were your only friend, it could be terrifying. In Nancy Steele Brokaw’s book, Leaving Emma, terrified is just how Emma feels when her best friend Tem announces that she has to move at the end of the school year. To make matters worse, Emma’s father tells her that he has to go far away for five months and Emma’s mom is so absorbed in her own problems that she can’t even help. Emma feels as though her life is wrecked. Tumbling even further down from her perfect perch, Emma has to deal with dreaded Great-Aunt Grace who played music that “sounded exactly like those old monster movies when the lights in the castle go out, and the thunder crashes all around, and someone is about to be killed.” Emma can’t even tolerate when Aunt Grace comes to dinner! In order to deal with the fear and anger of everyone leaving her, Emma manages to patch together a few talents she barely knew she had. By making some new friends who share her love of art and by confronting other problems, Emma makes it through some difficult times and comes out more than OK. Emma even figures out a way to replace one after-school activity which she had been doing merely to please her father with another activity which she loved, was good at and received much praise for. The characters in Leaving Emma could be typical people in your own neighborhood. Emma describes one nasty girl, Meagan VanHook, as “the most beautiful, talented, intelligent girl in Northpoint Middle School, and if you weren’t sure about that, you could just ask her.” Throughout the story, Brokaw’s vivid descriptions of feelings and situations seem very realistic. Writing “whatever color concrete was, that was the color of my thoughts” made me really understand Emma’s melancholy. Leaving Emma is studded with laughs and thoughts which come together to make this a good book. I would never have chosen this book myself, yet I am glad that I read it and hope you will enjoy it, too. This book is for anyone who enjoys reading about kid problems and has a good sense of humor. Amanda Claire Gutterman, 8Washington, D.C.

Robbie

“Here we are then,” said Mother happily, at the same time tipping the cab, hoisting our luggage out of the trunk, and brushing her hair aside impatiently. “Go on in and set yourself up, darling . . . I’ll be a minute.” I nodded, then skipped up to the door; it looked about to fall off its rusting hinges. Pausing for a minute, I grasped the cool metal doorknob as I glanced hurriedly around. The grass was a pleasant shade of green, patched in some places with a prairie yellow. To the far left, I spotted a small creek, chuckling as though sharing a private joke with itself. There were bushes lining our new home, if you could call it new. The white paint was peeling, and most windows had only one green shutter (I wondered idly where the others were). And then there were the trees. Scattered haphazardly among flower beds and grasses, they seemed so energetic and alive I expected them to pull up their roots and run joyously down the twisting, dusty dirt path. Pausing for a minute, I grasped the cool metal doorknob as I glanced hurriedly around Shaking myself, I turned the doorknob and stepped into the damp, refreshing air of the house. The wooden boards underfoot creaked as I moved slowly to my new bedroom. The bed had been made up in lavender sheets; in the far corner stood a sturdy desk and, next to it, an empty bookshelf. A slight breeze ruffled the drapes by the window, and I turned my attention to it. Walking over, I leaned over the windowsill and found myself . . . staring into the eyes of a boy. For some reason, I was not in the least surprised, and could not tear my gaze away from his eyes. They were wild, and mischievous, glowing greener than a thousand emeralds. His black hair was askew, flying in all directions, but somehow managing to leave his ears sticking straight out from his head, in plain sight. Quite unexpectedly, he grinned at me, wrinkling his already hilarious features into an absurd expression. I found myself grinning back—for some reason I liked him. “What’s your name?” he asked abruptly. “Patricia,” I replied. “OK, Patch,” he said, grinning again. “Well, what’s your name?” I asked him, a little put out at my new nickname. “Robbie.” For no reason at all, we both broke into giggles, laughing so hard that Robbie almost fell off the windowsill. I laughed harder. When at last we had quieted down, I asked him why he had been at my window. “I heard tell someone was movin’ in; I’m the curious type” . . . here he blushed . . . “so I thought I’d, y’know, check it out.” I nodded slowly, accepting his explanation. We were quiet for a moment, until he said mischievously, “Y’know, if you push the window up more, you could jump out real easy. Not far to the ground.” I caught his hint, smiled slowly, went up to the window and vaulted straight out, landing with a thud in some grass. Robbie laughed as I got up and brushed myself off; I scowled at him, and he tried to turn the laugh into a cough. “Well, what now, Patch?” he asked. “I dunno. I’m new here. Why don’t you show me around?” “Follow me,” he replied, and dashed off toward the woods. I sighed, picked up my skirts, and hurried after. *          *          * By the end of the day, I was a complete mess. I had sap on my hands from climbing numerous trees, grass-stained knees, twigs and leaves in my hair from crawling through a secret passage of bushes Robbie had made, smudges on my skirt and bruises everywhere. It was painful to walk, even. Mother took one look at me and started filling the bathtub with water. As I was attempting (unsuccessfully) to rub the grass stains off, I told her about my day. When I was finished, she nodded, then disappeared into the hallway. Presently she returned, holding a beaten-up pair of pants. “I think it would be best, Patricia . . .” “Patch,” I corrected automatically. “All right then, Patch. I believe it would be best for you to wear these” . . . holding up the pants . . . “from now on.” She ruefully gazed at my ripped dress. “OK, Mother,” I said happily, wrapping a towel around myself and skipping off to my room. Quickly, I put on my favorite pajamas with clouds on them, then ran into the kitchen for a hurried dinner. Soon after I was in bed, with Mother kissing me goodnight. “See you in the morning . . . Patch,” she whispered. I giggled as she left the room. Today had been the best day of my entire life. I had done so many things I never even knew I could do—but, more than that, I had made a true friend. In the city, I can’t count on anyone for anything. But I knew I could trust Robbie. *          *          * I awoke the next morning to a .1. world wreathed in rosy shadows. I slipped out of bed, shivered in the cold air once or twice, and then practically jumped into my new pants. Not wanting to wake Mother, I lowered myself cautiously out of the window and then tiptoed away to meet Robbie at the creek. When I arrived, he was making boats out of weeds and grass, then sending them on their way along the twisting water. ” ‘ello,” he greeted me, jumping to his feet, and before I could say anything, he ran off, yelling over his shoulder, “C’mere. I wanna show you something.” Smiling to myself, I dashed after him. It wasn’t far. Just beyond the first few lines of trees, past an abandoned flower bed, and around three berry bushes was a very tall tree. Lichen covered it (along with ivy) from head to

Wings of Water

I was out on my boat, the Eaglet, for what seemed the millionth time that summer. Once more, my dad and brother had persuaded me to come out and try to water-ski again. I was standing in the middle of my boat, staring at the slightly rippling water, and wishing I had stayed home with my mom instead of coming out on the river. The murky, brown waters of the mighty Mississippi stared back at me, as if challenging me to jump in. I involuntarily shivered. I turned toward my dad and said, “Dad, can’t I try this some other time?” He sighed, “Emily, won’t you please try again? Tonight might be the night you get up! Even Jacob wants you to try,” he pleaded with me. My brother Jacob gave me his most pitiful, puppy-dog look. I realized I had lost the argument. Even so, I thought, I’m only seven years old! How am I supposed to do this?! I heaved a big sigh and started to get my two wooden water skis out. When I had them out, I gingerly lowered myself into the murky Waters of the river. I sucked in my breath as the cold water swirled around my body. My dad carefully gave me one ski. I twisted and turned as I fought with the current to get it on. Finally, my foot slid into place. My dad threw the other ski to me, and I went through the same ordeal to get it on. Then, it slid into place too. I couldn’t believe what I had been missing all these years My dad tossed me the rope. “Remember, bend your knees, and keep your skis in front of you. Just stand up and let the boat do all the work. You can do it, Em!” The motor hummed as my dad turned the key. The boat slowly started to pick up the slack on the rope. As it tightened, I tried to remember all the things that my dad had told me, but they seemed to have flown from my head. Finally, the rope was tight. I felt like I was dreaming. Distantly, I heard my dad shouting, “Just yell when you’re ready to go!” I took a deep breath, and wondering if I would ever do this, filled my lungs with air and hollered, “Hit it!” There was a roar as the engine sped up, and water was flying into my face. I gritted my teeth, and grimly hung on for dear life as I started to rise out of the water. Suddenly, it was over, and I was skimming across the water! I couldn’t believe it! I shouted from pure triumph and joy, while in the Eaglet my brother and dad were jumping up and down, waving their arms and yelling. On my face was a huge grin. I felt as if I was on top of the world! I couldn’t believe what I had been missing all these years. The spray, the roar of the motor, and wind whipping across my face were all part of my total happiness. I felt as if I were flying. On my face was a happy smile as I soared off into the sunset on the wings of water. Emily Heninger, 11Bettendorf, Iowa Susie Speicher, 13Lakewood, Washington