“What do you say, Adrin? Do we have a deal?” Storm-tossed waves broke like a thousand glass shards against the craggy black rocks at the base of the cliff. A sleeping girl, curled among the long grasses, didn’t hear the storm. She was in the midst of a nightmare, tossing and turning. Suddenly, a clap of thunder pierced the night and the girl woke up, breathing heavily. She looked around, although it was impossible to see anything. The moon was hidden behind dark storm clouds that refused to shed any rain. The girl stood up, a wild, yet frightened, look in her eyes. She knew what the storm meant: Beta, along with the others in the wolf clan, was calling her, and they weren’t happy. The girl broke into a run. She ran away from the crashing waves and the inky sea. She ran through the tall grasses and thorns of the rose hips, never stopping or slowing to catch her breath. Her brown tunic was pressed against her body as the winds whipped her black hair, violently, out of its tight braid. Lightning flashed and thunder exploded, constantly keeping the sky filled with noise. Finally, the girl reached a sand dune that was hidden in beach grasses. Another jagged streak of lightning lit the sky just long enough for the girl to catch a glimpse of the worn wooden door carved with the ancient language of the wolves. This was the entrance to Beta’s lair. She waved her hand over the door, mumbling a strange incantation. The next thing she knew, she had the sensation of being squeezed though a tight tube before landing unsteadily on her feet inside the warren. The candles cast ominous shadows onto the floor of sand. Here and there were the occasional carcasses of unlucky animals or a seashell or two. Standing in the middle of the den was a great shaggy wolf with a chunk of fur and flesh missing from his left ear. He had glowing yellow eyes and sharpened teeth. The wolf started to pace in a circle around the girl. “Where is it?” growled Beta in a raspy voice. “I don’t have it, whatever you are looking for,” the girl said, refusing to be intimidated by this ferocious animal. “Do you dare take me for a fool?” growled Beta, baring his teeth, and his hackles rose. The girl was tempted to say yes, but she knew Beta wasn’t one for humor. He was twice the size of the girl and could spring at any moment, tearing the girl apart. “I don’t have it,” the girl repeated. Beta’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie to me, Adrin. Remember what happened to your father?” Adrin broke her gaze from Beta’s. Her eyes grew wide at the memory of how her father had lied to the wolves, just to protect Adrin. She thought back to how the wolves had forced her father out of their hut and started to fight him. Adrin remembered her father battling the clan of wolves, but to no avail. She remembered how the wolves sprung at her father, killing him in one leap. Adrin recalled how the wolves pitched her father’s limp body off the edge of the cliff and into the dark sea below. Adrin blinked out of her trance and continued to glare at Beta. “Tell me what you seek and you shall have it in eight days time.” Adrin tried to keep her voice from shaking. Beta sat down and contemplated the offer. “Hmm. The orphaned daughter of my enemy, go and retrieve the lost owl diadem that belonged to every sorcerer and sorceress that ever existed. If she fails, then I’ll take her life. Dangerous, life threatening,” Beta paused and grinned a wicked grin at Adrin, “just what I like. What do you say, Adrin? Do we have a deal?” Adrin swallowed and wiped her sweaty palms against her leggings. Her father wouldn’t have liked her to work with his enemy. Adrin was fearful for her life. She took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Agreed. Eight days by midnight, no later. It’s a deal.” Adrin shook the paw of power-hungry Beta. “See you then, my dear,” said Beta as he disappeared in a whirlwind of sand. Arden Bastia, 13Warwick, Rhode Island Alondra Paredes, 13Bentonville, Arkansas
September/October 2012
Mission Beach
There is one thing that always completes my summer. Mission Beach. Every August, my family either takes the eight-hour drive or the one-hour flight down to San Diego, where my mom grew up. My grandpa lives in a small complex called Stonecrest, and about a ten-minute drive away is Mission Beach, my favorite beach in the whole world. My mom’s best friend, Auntie Julia, brings down her entire huge family from Piedmont, California, and Chicago, Illinois, and she rents the same old enormous beach house located directly on Mission Beach. It’s 10:04 am, according to my sister’s watch. Dad is driving the car, singing along to Bob Dylan blasting on the radio. Mom is on the phone with Auntie Julia (occasionally making furious gestures to Dad to bring down the volume), and my sister Anna is announcing the time every four minutes. I finger my bright blue summer dress that I bought from The Gap this past July. All the windows of our minivan are rolled down, air-conditioning is on full blast, and we are off to the beach. I think this is the best way to end my summer. Dad hasn’t even parked or turned off the car when Anna and I unbuckle and explode out of the car. The cool salty breeze tickles my nose and tugs at my hair as a smile breaks on my face. The hot sun beats down as we quickly unpack the trunk and trudge down the alley to the big familiar brown house. The four of us climb the brick wall. Mom helps me up and I can see the sparkling blue ocean that never fails to amaze me. Kate and Anna wave to us as we wade out of the water “Natalie! Anna!” A little girl, who is around eight, runs over and gives me a huge hug. “Mommy, they’re here!” “OK, I’m coming!” Auntie Julia rushes over, her spiky brown hair damp, and she has on a cute black dress. Of course, she isn’t really my aunt. But our families are so close that it is hard not to refer to each other as family. Julia smiles and embraces my mom in a giant hug, and then my dad. “Welcome back, guys! Everyone’s out on the beach.” We follow Julia onto the front porch of the house that faces the bluer-than-blue ocean. There isn’t a cloud above in the sky, and tanned teenagers are tossing around a volleyball in the sand across the boardwalk. “Natalie!” I spin around to see a cute blond girl, freckles sprinkled across her nose, her hair glowing strawberry blond in the sun. I smile. “Ellie!” We share a hug. She is a year younger than me and we first bonded a few years ago over our love of reading and books. Ellie is Julia’s niece. Her mom is Beth, who has two older boys, also: Chase, age fourteen, and Josh, age sixteen Kate tugs my hand. “Let’s go to the beach, c’mon!” I grin and glance over my shoulder at Julia, Mom, and Dad. Mom takes my bag, smiling, “Go on!” It’s a tradition. Ellie, Anna, Kate, and I race across the sand and see who can get to the water first. We grip hands as we check up and down the boardwalk to make sure there are no bikers or pedestrians coming, then we sprint across the asphalt and scramble over the three-foot concrete wall. I kick off my flip-flops and my feet sink into the warm sand. I can already feel my shoulders starting to get sunburned as Kate yells, “GO!” We take off, trying to pick up our feet as much as possible so we don’t get burned. Running through the sand is hard! It’s really different from running over hard, solid ground. If you let your weight sink into your feet for more than two seconds, it’s like sprinting through molasses. We pass a volleyball game as Kate and Anna start falling behind. Now it is me versus Ellie. We flash mock-competitive looks at each other. I look down to see the sand growing darker and firmer, meaning it’s wet and we are getting close to water. I could feel the balls of my feet throbbing. Ellie’s face is red and she pants. I pump my sore legs faster, now able to run normally because the wet sand is more dense and packed tighter. Ellie and I splash into the refreshingly ice-cold ocean at the same time. We laugh, gasping and panting, as the waves lap at our knees. The hem of my dress brushes a passing wave, but it feels good. Kate and Anna wave to us as we wade out of the water. They stand at the top of a sandy hill. Ellie and I start towards them, when a bucket of freezing water hits my back; Ellie and I scream. We whirl around to see Chase and Josh holding two pails of ocean water, kneeling in laughter. With our entire backsides drenched, Ellie and I have found new energy even after the long sprint down to the water as we pursue Chase and Josh into the ocean. A wave rolls up and splashes around my ankles as I tilt my head toward the turquoise sky and I realize my summer can’t get any better than this. Natalie Bettendorf, 13Berkeley, California Emily Considine, 13Half Moon Bay, California
We the Children (Benjamin Pratt and the Keepers of the School)
We the Children (Benjamin Pratt and the Keepers of the School), by Andrew Clements; Atheneum Books for Young Readers: New York, 2011; $6.99 Atheneum Books, the publishing company, knew what they were doing when they published this mysterious and wonderful book by Andrew Clements. I relate to Ben, the main character, a lot. Ben is friendly and outgoing. I am, too. Ben is also brave and nosy, and he likes to know what things mean and what others are doing. He always accepts a challenge and never gives up. He’s confident and always knows he can do it. I also feel close to Jill, another main character. She always is wondering who to take sides with. She knows what she should do, but when she tries she feels like her ideas are criticized. She’s negative and overwhelmed sometimes, but then she feels really bad and apologizes. She becomes sweet, energetic, and bold. When Ben and Jill find out the school they go to is going to be torn down, they feel like they must stop it. I would react the same way. I would feel upset and find a trustworthy teacher, though, to speak to a board meeting about my opinion. I wouldn’t start being a detective like Ben and Jill until after the teacher failed. Then I would look for clues to help me. When Ben and Jill need to solve the clues, they spend a lot of time in the library to learn about the school’s past. I would research the clues on the Internet. Jill did a tiny bit online. I would type in each clue and hope to find how they related to my school. As for when the grouchy and scary janitor, Mr. Keane, stops Ben to give him the coin, I would have done the same. I would take the coin and promise to save the school, but I would not go straight to a friend to find out about a dead person who had their name on the coin. I would Google them. Once I received the coin, I would feel scared and hopeless. I probably would go and forget about it until I had free time. If I heard that Mr. Keane had died, part of me would feel nervous because now I would be alone, which would make me go recruit a friend. Part of me would feel sad but would tell me that now, if I broke my promise, Mr. Keane would not know. Most of me would feel too sad to even think about the coin. My favorite parts of the book were very touching. One was how Jill seemed to always understand how Ben felt and would try to make him joyful. The other was when Ben saved Robert’s life. That made me think of Ben as heroic and kind. It always made me angry when Robert bullied Ben. If I had been there, I would have told Robert what a bully he was and I would have stood up for Ben. Overall, I would recommend this story to anyone who loves a mystery and conflicts that only tightly bonded friendship can solve. This book is heartwarming and touches your soul. Madeline Hastie, 10Northfield, New Hampshire
