Someone’s trust can take years to gain, but only seconds to lose. Revving the motor of my best friend’s dirt bike always gave me a thrill. Yet, nothing could compare to the feeling of zooming down the back roads by my beach house on a warm, summer day. As I switched gears from first to second, I glanced at an old woman giving me a cryptic stare. I saw her shake her head as if to say this was not safe, which only enticed me to go faster. I shifted to third gear and sped past her garden. I did not care about her opinion, for at that moment, going thirty miles per hour, I was the king of the world. The warm wind whipped through my hair while my shirttail flapped furiously in the breeze. Little toddlers venturing to the beach gazed at me in awe. Nothing could bring me down on that day . . . except for a small strip of gravel on the side of the road. My head was up in the clouds so I failed to notice the sliver of sand and pebbles ahead. I plummeted down quickly from Cloud Nine, however, when I flew through the dusty air and onto the hard pavement. I heard my friend stop his bike short, dismount, and rush towards me. Wanting to look cool in front of my fourteen- year-old friend, I stood up, brushed myself off, and forced a smile. He gasped as he pointed toward my arm. Suddenly I felt a flash of pain travel up my arm. I stared in disbelief at the blood dripping onto the bike from the dirty gash in my left arm. Gravel was jammed under the flesh of my palm, and my hip and legs were badly scraped. Holding in my tears of agony, I slowly drove back to my house and said I’d call him after I got cleaned up. After he drove around the corner, I sprinted through the front door and screamed for my mom. At that moment I was the king of the world To be honest, I had never told her that I was riding this motorized vehicle. So, when she questioned me, I simply told her I had fallen off my bike. She took me down to the ocean and carefully washed off my scrapes and cleaned the gravel out of my hand. The salt stung my open wounds. When she had finished, I limped over to my friend’s house. I was feeling terrible, not just because of my injuries, but because I felt guilty. My mother had recited over and over how dangerous dirt bikes were and that I was never to ride them. The thrill of the ride clouded my judgment, and I did not heed her warnings. Later that evening, we all went out to dinner. My sister had been with my dad in town during the day and was unaware of my injuries. So, when I was scooping up my lobster ravioli she noticed the cuts on my arm. She questioned me about the cuts and my mom replied that I fell off my bike. She misunderstood and thought my mom had said dirt bike so she blurted, “You fell off the dirt bike! Aha! Jesse said that thing was extremely safe!” My dad chimed in with, “How did you fall? You looked like you were great at riding it when I saw you!” My mom glared at me. Watching my mom’s face, realizing that she had been misled, was sheer agony. Her words, “I see you conveniently neglected to tell me the whole story,” felt like daggers in my heart. Suddenly, as I looked at her face, I realized that trust was a very fragile thing. Her eyes clearly told me that I had lost her trust. I always knew she would forgive me, but I still regret hurting her because of my need for speed. Michael Scognamiglio, 13 Saddle River, New Jersey Zachary Meyer, 10Shelby Township, Michigan
May/June 2006
The Truth About Sparrows
The Truth About Sparrows, by Marian Hale; Henry Holt and Company: New York, 2oo4; $16.95 The truth about sparrows takes you right back into the Great Depression. From the minute you open the book, all of Sadie Wynn’s burdens will be yours. From the very beginning: having to give up a home, the only home you’ve known all your life. Sadie has to deal with it all. The Wynns have to leave their wonderful farm in Missouri to go to Texas. On the way, they meet a girl, Dollie, and her family Dollie becomes Sadie’s friend throughout the story But to be true to Dollie, Sadie will have to let go of someone from the past: Wilma. Wilma is Sadie’s best friend back in Missouri. As you read the book, you discover what Sadie discovers: that even if you trust your friends so much, they could still dump you. I’ve had some experiences like that, including when a friend and I had too many play dates and always got annoyed at each other. Now we’re friends again. But even though Wilma promises to, she never writes to Sadie. Sadie sends her three letters and doesn’t hear back. Sadie thinks at one point, “Wilma could be anywhere. But mostly, she was gone.” In my favorite part of the story it’s Halloween night and Sadie and some friends tell ghost stories. The book really comes alive, like a personal experience. I’ve spent time making up funny stories with friends and it sure is a lot of fun. Sadie tells a story about Wilma’s brother who heard and even felt a ghost. I enjoyed that scene a lot. I guess you’re wondering why this book has its name. One day, a man comes by a tent the Wynns are living in. He asks if they’ll give him something to eat, and Sadie’s mama obliges. The next day, Sadie is mad and looks for a place to be alone. She startles a sparrow who flies to another perch. Then Sadie is startled by a movement in a cardboard box. She moves closer and sees that it’s the man her mother fed the day before. From then on she calls him Mr. Sparrow. I studied sparrows in first grade. They’re the sweetest, most ordinary birds. Perhaps that sweetness and ordinariness is the truth about sparrows, and the truth about the man whose life is so hard he lives in a box. There is a lot of talk about poverty in the book. Sadie overhears a conversation between a boy and his dad that really stayed with me. The dad describes ” . . . kids sleeping in the cold under Hoover blankets and scouring the dumps for food.” “What’s a Hoover blanket, Papa?” “A newspaper, son. Just a newspaper.” This book taught me a lot of history Hoover was a man who was President during part of the Depression. This is what I saw when I traveled to India. Poverty. India is filled with it. “Too many people and not enough jobs,” is another line from the book. Whenever you stop at a red light in Mumbai, kids will come to your car, trying to sell you something. Elderly men will ask you for money The Depression did that to people, too. This story will make you brood even after the last page is read. It has something to offer to everybody History, friendship, and the real preciousness of life. I recommend this book to everybody who reads this review! Julia Worcester,10Bronx, New York
Shannon
Shannon lifted her head and howled into the empty black sky. It was a sad, mournful song, shattering the cold silence. Slowly the old wolf dipped her muzzle to her toes in a sort of bow. Her graying white coat bristled slightly in the chilly breeze. Snow surrounded her, looking like a big, beautiful quilt of cotton. Only her soft paw prints disturbed it. She howled again. It echoed off of the nearby mountains, but again, there was no reply. Shannon stood up and shook herself of the snow, which sprayed everywhere. Then she walked over to the trees, her paws sweeping lightly over the snow. She stopped and listened, but heard nothing. The great, snow-topped trees loomed above her, as though taunting her, but she just walked on. She heard crackling in the bush next to her and flinched. Then she broke out into a fast-moving trot. She trotted through the big cluster of tall trees, pausing once in a while to sniff around. Finally she came to a small clearing. A small, wooden cabin lay nestled tightly in the deep snow; the tiny windows leaked long, eerie shadows onto the tree trunks nearby. The door of the cabin swung open to reveal a young woman with curly, chestnut-red hair, and a big moose-skin coat. She walked out and shut the door quietly behind her. “Hi Shannon, are you hungry?” Shannon paused for a second before coming out of the trees to greet the woman. Her brilliant green eyes darted around. “Hi Shannon, are you hungry?” The woman smiled and pulled out a small can of dog food, which Shannon eyed. The woman laughed. Then, with her mitten, she dug a shallow hole and dumped the contents of the can into it. “Eat,” she commanded, and gave Shannon one more pat before turning back to the cabin. Shannon dipped her head and started to eat. Once she was finished, Shannon walked back into the trees and pawed the snow, checking how soft it was. Then she lay down, tucked her nose under her tail, and with a sigh, closed her eyes. Instantly, she was asleep. * * * Shannon was awakened by the barking of some young, energetic dogs. Heaving herself to her feet, Shannon yawned. Then she trotted back to the same clearing as the night before, taking great, sweeping strides. She knew exactly what was going on, and she did not want to miss it. * * * When Shannon reached the small clearing, she was met by the woman who had fed her the night before. In the woman’s hand was a dog-mushing harness. “Shannon, do you want to go for a trail run?” the woman asked kindly Shannon wagged her tail before dropping her head so that she could be harnessed. Just as the woman was finishing up with Shannon a short and rather stocky man stepped out of the cabin. His eyes focused on Shannon right away. “Smart dog ye got there Kayla,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. “She isn’t a dog, John, she’s a wolf. Caught her myself, as a pup, I did. But yeah, she’s very smart and tame all right.” Kayla hooked Shannon up to the rest of the team, and snapping the last piece into place, waved at the man. “I’ll be back before dark; you can count on that. I’m an experienced musher of course. Well, bye.” Kayla waved at the man. Then she bent over to make sure everything was packed, just in case. Shannon tossed her head restlessly. She loved trail runs, as long as getting ready didn’t take too long. Most of the dogs in harness were just getting exercised, and knew the trail well. Only one dog didn’t. Roxy was a dark gray husky with a pure white mask on her face. She was fairly young, new to the trail, a little bit skittish, and was extremely afraid of thunder and lightning. This was who Shannon was placed beside. She was not extremely fond of the idea of running with a pup, and was ready to teach Roxy that, except Kayla called upon them to go. Shannon trotted along, enjoying the beautiful scenery The trees that had loomed so high above her the night before, now seemed welcoming. The snow now sparkled as the strong, early morning sun shone down upon it, creating a dazzling sight. Shannon wished her partner, Mendae, could see it. Like her, Mendae was a wolf, caught and tamed by Kayla. She was, like most wolves, gray. But unlike most wolves, she had one blue eye, and one green. Recently, Mendae had taken a bad fall and broke her paw. The vet said she would never walk again, but she proved him ‘wrong. He said she would never be a good sled dog anymore, but Kayla hoped she could prove him wrong again, but so far she hadn’t. * * * Roxy leaned over and bit Shannon’s ear playfully Shannon gave a warning growl and bared her gleaming, white teeth. Roxy whined. “Shannon, Roxy, break it up! You guys are supposed to get along!” Kayla jiggled the sled ropes, trying to catch the team’s attention. The dogs threw all of their weight into the chest pad of the harness. The sled creaked as it slowly started to move. It bounced along the trail, hitting many bumps as it gathered speed. Roxy began to bark excitedly as the dogs fell into an easy rhythm. Shannon just pushed harder into her chest pad, her paws turning up small clouds of snow. It seemed as though she was trying to get away from the pup, even though she knew perfectly that she couldn’t. “Keep going! You guys are doing great! Go!” Kayla called, trying to encourage the team into going faster. A gust of wind blew softly, tossing Kayla’s long red hair this way and that. The team trotted on, through the winding trail that seemed almost endless. Soon the wind
