genesis - The Greater Seattle Bureau of Fearless Ideas

gs!
VOL. III
ritin
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f
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a pano
2014
VOL. III
T H E
READ FINE
WORK FROM:
G E N E S I S
TRIPS TO
T H E
S E A !
IN- SCHOOLS
ADVENTURES
THE LONG-AWAITED,
MUCH ANTICIPATED,
THIRD VOLUME OF
826 SEATTLE’S
LITERARY MAGAZINE
SPECIAL
E VE N TS
AFTER-SCHOOL
TUTORING!
IN THIS ISSUE
NOT ONLY WILL YOU FIND:
S T O R I E S ! P O E M S !
N O T E S ! D E B A T E S !
JOURNEYS TO
GOAT FARMS
P E RS O N A L
EXPERIENCE
A C R O S T I C S ! N O V E L S !
S U G G E S T I O N S ! O VA T I O N S !
but also!
MYSTERY!RESOLUTION!
R H I NO S! DWARF-PLANE TS!
E X P O S I T I O N ! R E V E L AT I O N !
O C E A N S ! S PA C E ! W O R M S !
T R U C K S ! C A R S ! B I C Y C L E S !
C H IC K E NS ! MA R S ! A N D. . . MOR E !
NEW
THIS
YEAR!
HIGh-SCHOOL
O P E N
writers'
S T U D I O
DIGITAL EDITION
TA B L E O F
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
SUE SPANG
PROGRAMS COORDINATOR
A BRIEF LOOK AT STOP & JOTS
MOUNTAINS OF POETRY
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MAX TRAN CHICKENS; IT’S FALL/LEAVES
SOPHIA BALDWIN FENCE POEM; RAINDROPS
INDIANA FAULKNER THE SKY IS FALLING
OPEN STUDIO
FINN COLANDO WHAT THE WORMS KNOW
EMILY BARRY RUBBER BALL
JASMINE SUN THE GIRL WHO DREAMED
HOW WE SEE IT
ALICIA MELGOREJO A PROMISE MADE BUT NOT FULFILLED
LA ÚLTIMA MUÑECA
APRIL SANDOVA
ERIC LUNA RIVERA
DANNA BUNT
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E
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THE CALL
RAINY DAY
KYLE MARSTON
FREE
FRANCES BAKER
OBSTACLES TO LIFE
ARTURO CASTENADO A MEMORY REPEALED
GERARDO CERVANTES-NARANJO FAMILY MUSIC
NICOLETTE NUNEZ THE BEACH
ZOO POEMS
BETHANIA BAHRU
RYAN MUSEHL
BLACKBIRD
PENGUIN; TARANTULA
CRISTOPHER TORRESCANO-HERNANDEZ
WATCHING
STAR WORDS
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COLMAN BASHORE DISASTER ON THE ICY PLANET!
LIAM HYDE
MARS
AFTER-SCHOOL TUTORING
ARCADIA SEIELSTAD
SINKING PEACEFULLY
NOTES TO GOATS
ERIC BELL
SARAH BELL
LOU MARTINEZ
MARIN CADY
MARCO YOLO!
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E
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AVA KWONG MY GRANDMOTHER’S STORY
THE DANGER OF A RAINY DAY IN A HELICOPTER
BRAYSON DAHLGAARD
TROUBLE IN SEONIA
TATUM McLAUGHLIN
WE’LL RESCUE YOU, HORI!
YUBI MAYIMA
826! TRUE! HOLLYWOOD STORIES
IAN HINCK THE ENERGY DILEMMA
CAROLINE ASHBY A TAIL OF MISSING PUPPIES
PLUTO PROTEST RECAP
FEATURING THE STUDENTS OF OUR 2013 PLUTO PROTEST WORKSHOP
WHERE THE WILD THINGS GROW
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JESSICA DARLINGTON ORCHID ADVENTURE
THANE DAHLGAARD
THE EVIL FLY TRAP
KATE JACOBS NYLA DONKEY
CRUSTACEAN CHRONICLES
SAVANNAH TRULUCK
THE CRAB (LUNCH)
THIS REALLY HAPPENED
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ABDIQANI’S STORY
ABDULAHI ABDI
JOSE BAILON
FROM BAD TO GOOD
ALEX HEINDEL THE SUPPLY TRUCK
JENNAKA TATON COCO’S CAR HOUSE
DEVIN OTTO
VIETNAM & LETTERS
IVY NUNEZ
THE WAY WEST
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INTO THE WORLD
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DEANGELOS “DJ” CLARK
THE NIGHTMARE
CHRISTINA ELLENBURG & MARTIN LAM
ALICE & ABDY: SUCCESS AT SOCHI
ABDARAHIM SANDER & AMIRA HILL
MOROCCAN ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE
HELEN SERESTE FIRST SIGHT AT LAST
PHOEBE MARTIN
LIFE IN WAR
COME FLY WITH ME
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JIBRIL ALI-HALANE
YUSUF ALI-HALANE
DANGER UP AHEAD
IN SEARCH OF THE NEXT SHERLOCK HOLMES
STOP & JOT CONTRIBUTORS
ZOË NEWTON
PENGUIN VACATION
STORY MAKEOVER
LILLY GREY RUDGE
MILES RAPPAPORT
GUTTER STARS
UNDERCOVER
JACK NEWTON
ELIAS ROJAS JR.
NEBEYAT DESSIE
EMNET HAILE
ELABORATE OUTFIT
BRUCE THE RHINO, HERO
LEAF LIFE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
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INTRODUCTION
Sue Spang
Here at 826 Seattle, it’s no secret that we produce a lot of writing. The shelves of our
Greenwood Space Travel Supply Company are packed with glossy publications, and
the students who regularly attend our programs can proudly point to the pages on
which their stories appear.
What readers might not know, however, is how a piece of student writing ends up
in a publication like this one, our annual literary magazine The Genesis.
It starts with students producing a piece of writing in one of our programs—be it
after-school tutoring, an in-schools project, or a writing workshop. The writing then
goes to our Editorial Board—a mix of adult and high school volunteers who generously contribute their weekends to reading through the pieces, making editorial
notes, and advising the writers. They offer tips on not only grammar and punctuation, but also new directions to head, new ideas to unpack, and new worlds to explore. The young authors then come back to 826 Seattle for one (or more) revision
workshops, where they have a chance to address the Editorial Board’s comments and
revise, revise, revise.
The Genesis was conceived not only as a celebration of writing in a physical, printed form, but also as an online journal that could be shared with and publicized to
readers around the world. This year, the stories in the print version of The Genesis
are just the beginning; you’ll find even more exclusive content in our online version
(www.826seattle.org). As publishing becomes increasingly digital, we are excited to
explore the possibilities this affords us to publish more student writing and disseminate it to an even wider audience.
As 826 Seattle’s publications coordinator, I’m lucky enough to have a front row seat
for this entire process: from sorting through piles of handwritten stories to making
final layout adjustments on document margins. Seeing the development of student
ideas, writing abilities, and relationships forged between tutors and students is constantly both surprising and inspiring.
The pieces these students have written are the result of innumerable experiences
from their own individual, diverse backgrounds, but the process of getting their work
published is a common one. All of these students have devoted themselves to improving their craft of writing in ways both large and small. The result is this, the third edition of The Genesis. We hope you enjoy.
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A BRIEF INTRODUCTION TO
STOP & JOTS
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Students come to 826 Seattle Monday through
Thursday for help with their homework and school
projects. When homework is completed, students
are invited to journal in their “Stop & Jot” composition notebooks. Every day, there’s a writing prompt
in a small basket on the tutoring tables. Students
can write to this prompt or disregard it entirely and
draw upon their own imaginations. The goal is simple: a daily flexing of the writing muscle.
We’ve scattered a handful of our favorite Stop & Jot
entries from the last year or so throughout this edition of Genesis, and the topics and responses range
from sublime to ridiculous.
Keep an eye out for these “Stop & Jot!” boxes!
ry?
t
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PENGUIN VACATION
ZOË NEWTON
Describe a penguin’s ideal vacation.
Since penguins are adapted for cold climates, and
some are able to live in warmer places, I would
recommend to a penguin to come to Seattle. It
isn’t too hot or too cold at all, and there are plenty
of sights to see.
I would assume that a penguin would love to
see the men at the market throw fish back and
forth, and finally decide to stop torturing himself
and eat lunch at Ivar’s. Then he could attempt to
make friends with the seagulls down by the piers.
Unfortunately, he may be prohibited from swimming there.
While he is exploring the docks, he could visit
the Aquarium, where there are yet more fish
for him to fantasize about (and, of course, learn
about.) And, just like anyone else, I’m sure this
particular penguin would love to see the unique
Space Needle in downtown Seattle.
Then, one day, the manager at Men’s Warehouse may catch him waddling down the street,
compliment his exquisite taste, and offer him
a job as a tuxedo salespenguin. He can move to
Seattle and make tons of money to buy the fish he
dreams of.
Six genuine Stop & Jot Prompts!
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Write an entry that includes the
following line: “Nothing shocks me,
I’m a scientist.”
Describe a person doing a boring
chore that suddenly becomes very
interesting.
Write the lyrics to a breakup song
between a squirrel and a chipmunk.
Write about the season of summer
from the point of view of a popsicle.
See how many of these words you can
work into a story: pocket watch, rain
boot; crumpled note; eye patch.
Tell a story about a time when someone
hid something you wanted to find.
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M O U N TA I N S O F P O E T RY
AUTUMN IN CARKEEK PARK INSPIRED THE WRITINGS IN THIS WEEKEND WORKSHOP ON NORTHWEST/
CASCADIA-THEMED POETRY. SELECTED STUDENTS ALSo READ their work AT THE CASCADIA POETRY FESTIVAL .
Chickens; It’s Fall/Leaves
Max Tran
CHICKENS
Eggs lightly falling to the
ground, clucking pecking
all around rooster
crowing time to
wake eggs for breakfast
until you’re full but
please stay for another
mouthful
IT’S FALL/LEAVES
Leaves turning red and yellow
Falling falling all day long
decomposers
Munching crunching all day long
Getting colder really colder
all day long
The leaves from a tree fell
As soft as a snowflake
The leaves from a tree are
As colorful as salmon
Getting their spawning colors.
MAX TRAN
is homeschooled and in fourth
grade. He’d like to be a chicken
farmer, and has already been
published many times at 826
Seattle.
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mountains of poetry
Raindrops; Fence Poem
Sophia Baldwin
RAINDROPS
Hundreds of little raindrops
Pour from a soft white cloud
Crystal-clear drops of water
Landing on lush moss
The sun travels across the sky
Making the raindrops glitter
A stream of water, a team of rain
Rushes off a roof
Dripping into a puddle
Eventually overflowing
Flooding down a sloping surface
Into a street, joining other water
Packed with raindrops
Sloshing down the road
Sliding downwards into a drain
Rolling, tumbling toward their destination
These raindrops have done this
Millions of times
It’s a routine they know by heart
Finally they arrive at their body of water. Home,
Then slowly they are pulled back to the sky
For another adventure
Soon shiny little raindrops fall again.
FENCE POEM
This fence is so hideous
With an uncanny placement
It doesn’t belong
Doesn’t it know this?
It should be
In a field of modern art
A sagging wooden mossy fence
I can’t believe it
An entire beam has given away
I’ll bet dinosaurs saw it
Its misshapen posts
Are covered in lichen
They stand a short foot
And divide reality from fiction
Today being reality
Fiction being back in the old days
When pigs could fly
SOPHIA BALDWIN
is a fifth grader at Green Lake
Elementary. In addition to
writing poems, she also writes
very compelling science fiction.
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mountains of poetry
The Sky is Falling
Indiana Faulkner
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The sky is falling bit by bit
But it’s not the sky it’s giant colored bubbles
Oh no the sky is falling but its only
Colored bubbles instead
Trees can be nature
Trees can be cut up and made
Trees are made of wood
Leaves fall from trees
Eat through apples, worms do
Apples fall
Vines grow
Everyone can be happy
So much fall
INDIANA FAULKNER
is nine years old and attends
the Bright Water School. She’s
participated five workshops.
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OPEN STUDIO
A new program in 2013, open studio provides writing support and space for
high school students working on personal writing projects EVERY SATURDAY AFTERNOON.
Rubber Ball
Emily Barry
Sitting at the grimy red counter
At the diner one
evening
Beat up car parked right out front where
we could see it real good
High on defeat and disappointment
My mother turned to me, sleep-rung eyes filled to the brim
with the strong stuff that only comes in a bottle
And she said to me “the world is flat”
I flipped my pigtails over my shoulders, one at a
time, and looked at her knowingly, though even as she lay a
cross the laminate I barely came to hershoulder
“No mama”
I told her confidently
“The world is so round God could bounce it
in space like a rubber ball”
So confident I was
It wasn’t until later that I figured out what she had meant
After all, we may not be able to walk off the edge of the world
But we sure can walk off the edge of a map
What I foolishly claimed ignorance in my
mother’s statement was a certain deep understanding
I did not know she possessed drawing whispers
from the folk around town
’cause she kept her legs bare between her short tight
skirts and flaming red heels
A too tight perm
And lipstick and pepper spray but a short
movement away
How a world so round and dynamic to my young
eyes could become so disillusioned in my
mother’s I was not capable of realizing
Let alone understanding
Until I was sitting on the couch with Bill
The man in the suit jacket she met at the diner and
immediately fell head over heels for
The guy with the comb-over who
Looking back,
Was incalculably astute
Yet completely passable
Of course
The world has its limits
And for a single mom in her 30s
Raising a kid in a town with no good to its name and
nothing better to give
How to know the meaning of the word hope
If that town was all she ever knew?
Why would she
But after all
He was not my mother’s type and though they both knew
it
The mascara still streaked down her cheeks
standing on the curb
As he drove away and never looked back
And we were back in that diner
car, a bit worse for wear, still parked out front where we
could see it from the
grimy red laminate counters
My counter
Mascara streaks smeared from a half-hearted
attempt to wipe them away
slowly let her head fall into her hands as she drowned
in her bottle of booze and sleepless nights
High on defeat and disappointment
Right back where we began
This time I reached her shoulder
It was late before she spoke
And when she did she said only
Like before
“The world is flat”
This time I had no pigtails to flip over my
shoulders or knowing looks to give
(I figure I grew out of both long before then)
Only a hand for the shoulder I had now passed
“No Mama”
I whispered
“The world is as round as you take it”
And she looked up
He was not my mother’s type and they both knew it
“I’m the best she thinks she can do”
He told me as I sat on his knee
“This town was always too small for her dreams
Now she thinks her dreams will never be
realized
That there’s no getting out of this town and no
hope for anything more”
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EMILY BARRY
is seventeen and attends Shorewood
High School. She has never been in a
fight but will enthusiastically continue to ignore the advice of write what
you know. Her spirit animal is the
octopus.
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OPEN STUDIO
What the Worms Know
Finn Colando
1. DUST
Arthur Miller’s The Crucible is the only book that has ever made me cry.
This was late at night on a Tuesday. The sky outside was this dark blue and the trees
were black
and the windows from everybody else’s houses were yellow. i was sitting at my sister’s
window.
it was winter but my cheeks were filled with fire ants. My knuckles were mountains and
i’ve never felt so much like dust.
3. DESPERATiON
My favorite creature in the world is the small boy in the big coat i saw at the lake. His
teeth were constellations—bright, with gaps between for universes to exist in. There was a
parachute inside his
ribcage and when he howled with joy his song was marked with the mild speech impediment of a child whose tongue doesn’t yet know quite where to put itself. With open arms
he ran towards two crows on the pavement. Silently, they took flight and were swallowed
into the sky’s grayness.
The boy stood in the middle of the path, his arms spread like pigeon wings or the letter Y.
Tears glazed his face like a donut, but in a sad way. He screamed without a sound and the
cold turned his
scream into a cloud.
Look at them up in the sky, looking like black handkerchiefs caught by the wind. i
know, kiddo, believe me i know.
5. DEATH
There wasn’t much to do in Oakland but we loved the cemetery. The biggest one i’ve
ever seen. Rolling hills. Rows and rows of headstones. A miniature Egyptian pyramid. A
replica of the Washington Monument. 2011. 1967. 1879. That girl was thirteen when she
went to the worms. We danced on her grave. We climbed on tombs and jumped fences. it
was all very beautiful, and it was all hilarious. We were breathing hard, running up hills
and falling on our knees.
When we got to the top of the biggest hill the sky was purple. We could see the whole
city and all the lights on the horizon. Below was green and grey, but where we stood was
a desert. A grave graveyard.
Old empty coffins, piles of concrete slabs, crumbling graves, probably rats. Giles Corey.
“More weight.”
Soon it was dark and so we ran back down the blackened hills. A herd of deer galloped
through the darkness. That’s not a metaphor. There’s a Beatles song my dad used to play
on summer nights: “Oh, you’re gonna carry that weight.”
Someday i’m gonna die.
Continued on next page!
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OPEN STUDIO
8. WORM WHiSPER
“What profit him to bleed? Shall the worms declare his truth?”
Reverend Hale, as John Proctor sends himself to the gallows (145)
Well, i hope that the worms did. i think we might be the worms. i think we might be the
worms. i think we are a ball of worms and we writhe and squirm through nothingness and
we’re blind and lucky because we have five hearts so if we screw up and cut each other into
pieces we can keep on going. Worms can whisper too. i want to whisper for John Proctor.
Not because he was a martyr because i’m just a worm and i don’t know what that means or
even if it’s true. i’m gonna worm whisper for John Proctor because he had a life and he only
had one heart and loved Elizabeth and maybe even Abigail too and in the movie
it looked like he loved his fields probably too, which is good because i bet they were beautiful in the morning with that kind of light. it’s gentle. he was selfish sometimes but he was
born from a mother and a father into a sticky web that killed him. And i love him and not
because he was a great person but because he was a person and that means something. No
one is a monster.
When i’m old i wanna have babies and i want to know that their world won’t go to hell. i
want to whisper to them now, though they’re only still ideas:
Worm Children. Please be kind. Please take walks and take time to think things over and
always make sure to laugh with people who make you happy. if someone makes you laugh
and feel good and understands, then you probably love them. Please make sure they know;
at the very least you’ll only make them feel lovable. Go swimming in fresh water and make
sure you jump in all at once. Dance around in funny clothes and wear lots of ridiculous hats
if you’re into that kind of thing. Tell the truth. if the truth isn’t kind you still can be. And it
won’t always be kind but you still can be. Don’t let the sadness of the swamps get to you. On
days when the slope is slippery, find someone who will sing a funny little song to you. Give
second chances. Give third chances. Give fourth chances. Realize that maybe everyone just
needs more chances. Light fires in the dark and tell secrets around them. There is truth in
time and the corners of your lips. Fruit grows on trees and you don’t have to wash it before
you eat it. When you are given choices, remember first to be kind. i know i keep saying that.
i’m doing it on purpose. Please be kind. Please be kind. Please be kind.
The birds might stay and the worms might whisper “i’m proud of you.” You might be dust
but that might be okay. One day you might get what you want.
FINN COLANDO
goes to high school and
enjoys a good apple.
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OPEN STUDIO
The Girl Who Dreamed
Jasmine Sun
I.
She used to be a girl who dared to dream
who threw on her plastic pearls and twirled for her daddy,
a fairy princess who specialized in dealing smiles and rosy
cheeks.
She wanted to be a doctor too; she said someday
she would be the best doctor-fairy-princess there ever was,
and all the little boys and girls who were sick
would be cured with a flick of her magic wand.
The world was her playground,
except it was infinite:
full of monkey bars to swing across
and playmates to help
and jungle gyms to climb
all the way to the top so they called her
queen of the playground.
JASMINE SUN
is a freshman at Interlake High
School. She holds the all-time
826 Seattle workshops-attended record with 31.
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II.
All her friends wanted to be housewives
with good husbands who made money
but she wanted to be a doctor, and they all laughed because
she was silly and because boys were supposed to do the
work.
So she was quiet, but by and by her dreams slipped into the
recesses of her mind.
There they dwelt—
muted, docile, tamed.
Boys called her nice things and said they would love her
forever and ever
she didn’t think they meant it
but the other girls said they were cute together and she
would feel pretty:
she only felt used.
She thought maybe they were right
maybe she was lucky that she would soon marry a businessman
and then they would stop talking because finally
she gave society what society wanted.
III.
Through wisps of thinning hair she
stared out the window at the planes, waiting
for her husband’s flight so she could
go home again
and have supper before he left her alone again.
The monotone yet familiar intercom
declared the arrival of flight 2390.
But he was not what she wanted
most in the world—his presence was fleeting but not consistent like the intercom lady’s was.
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Men in black suits with black leather briefcases strode
into the waiting area
but she was distracted
by a plane taking flight,
soaring up into the clouds
as if it would soar forever and ever.
What she wanted was to once again be
the girl who dreamed.
STORY MAKEOVER
LILLY GREY RUDGE
Retell a common story (fairy tale, fable,
children’s story, etc.), only this time add a
monster. (The monster can be evil or
good.)
Once upon a time in a gruesome land lived a monster and her name was Cinderella. Cinderella was
very ugly while her stepsisters were pretty monsters. All the monsters in the land wanted to be
as ugly as Cinderella. One day Cinderella got an
invitation to a ball, but she was forbidden to go!
Cinderella cried and cried but suddenly a scary
Godmother appeared. “Do not cry little monster,”
she growled.
“I will make you a disguise so you can go to the
ball! Bring me a big, ugly pumpkin!” The scary
Godmother ordered. When she got it she turned
it into the most ugly carriage in the whole world!
Then she gave Cinderella the most smelly, icky,
and dreadful overalls ever!
“I love it!” Cinderella exclaimed. Suddenly
three pretty white horses trotted up. “Perfect!” The
scary Godmother said and she turned them into
three giant ugly toads! Cinderella hopped in the
carriage and rode off.
“And remember you only have until 12!” the
scary Godmother roared. When she got there, the
prince started flirting with her; she punched him
and left. A year later she became a professional
boxer.
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H OW W E S E E I T
DURING THIS IN-SCHOOLS PROJECT WITH THE PROYECTO SABER CLASSROOM AT BALLARD HIGH SCHOOL,
STUDENTS EXPLORED MEMOIR WRITING AND PORTRAIT PHOTOGRAPHY.
STUDENTS WORKED WITH AUTHORS DOMINGO MARTINEZ AND KATHLEEN ALCALA AND PHOTOGRAPHER VICTORIA VANBRUINESSE.
A Promise Made but Not Fulfilled
Alicia Melgorejo
Have you ever been promised something that someone never accomplished? That’s what
happened to me.
The month before I turned five, my father left. He came back for my birthday and I
thought he was really coming back to stay and live with us. I was too small to understand
that I would not see them together like I used to, but still I believed in my heart, they would
get back together. My mom was capable.
But my dad left the house and moved in with my grandparents in our same city in Manzanilla Colima in Mexico. After three months, my dad decided to emigrate to the United
States. I saw him before he left at my grandparents’ house but he didn’t tell me or my seven
siblings that he was leaving. A month later, I heard my mother and brother talking and I
realized he had left and had not said goodbye.
I would always talk to my dad through my grandparents. After my dad emigrated, he still
called. He wanted to talk to me. He promised to come back to Mexico in four years.
After that, I was counting the days to see him again. I had a calendar and every night, I
would cross off one more day.
During those years I was in a school where all the kids had both their parents. Every time
that the kids arrived, their dads dropped them off, but not me. My younger brother would
always drop me off as if he was my dad. The kids in school made fun of me when that happened and I always responded that my dad was working to bring me really cool stuff.
The kids didn’t believe me and laughed. Every day they would wait at the door to see who
was dropping me off. As soon as I got to school they would laugh and say, “Your dad is not
back yet?!” Well, that hurt, but not as much as the pain of my dad leaving me behind.
Two years later, I was at my grandparents’ house and I asked my grandparents to call him.
A lady answered the phone and told me that my dad was not home. For days and days I
wondered who the lady was but I never asked anyone.
The next time it was a kid who answered the phone. She was probably two years old, because her voice was not very clear. When I asked her if my dad was there, she didn’t understand the question. Instead I heard a deep voice ask the kid who was on the phone. As he
was getting closer to the phone, I recognized his voice—it was my dad. As he picked up the
phone, I hung up.
I realized in that instant that he had another family. The four year calendar date had
passed, and the promise he made me would never be kept. I didn’t hear from my dad again.
ALICIA MELGOREJO
is a junior at Ballard High School. She
is the Vice President of Union Latina
and is a Linker Leader, helping guide
freshman through the process to coming to high school. In the future, she
wants to go to college and travel to
Europe.
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PHOTO BY VICTORIA VANBRUINESSE
Still, I believe in myself. I think that I can do anything if I want to. I am capable too.
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La Última Muñeca
April Sandova
APRIL SANDOVA
is a sophomore at Ballard High School.
She is independent, curious, and likes
making plans for her future. In her
free time, she helps her grandparents
with their store and restaurant and
spends time with her friends.
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PHOTO BY VICTORIA VANBRUINESSE
Where was he during this important time of my life? My quinceñera, the day I went from
being a little girl to a young lady. He didn’t get to see me wake up at six in the morning to do
my makeup. He didn’t get to share a waltz with me.
Why wasn’t he there? I kept looking out the window, expecting someone who never
showed up.
This day had taken a year of planning for my twin sister and me—from designing las
últimas muñecas (the last dolls) to booking the church, to practicing the entrance and waltz
with my chambelanes (the gentlemen who escorted us during the ceremony). It was stressful and fun.
The church was a problem because my sister and I hadn’t had communion, so none of the
Spanish-speaking priests would say the mass, and my family all spoke Spanish, so we just
had to have an English-speaking priest. My sister hadn’t wanted to have the party at all at
first, but my mom insisted because I wanted one and we were twins. Once we had started
looking at dresses, though, she got into the spirit of the quince.
I hadn’t eaten for four days, except the night before, when my grandma made me eat a quesadilla.
The day of my quince, it seemed like more people came to the mass than to the party afterward. I felt like a princess because my fuchsia dress was so big and so poofy. During the party, my twin sister and I sat in chairs in the middle of everybody. My uncles came, bringing
our high heels, and we changed into them from our flats. Our godparents came and placed
crowns on our heads.
I knew my father would have been there if he could have been. And I had to hold knowing that in my heart, even though he wasn’t there.
Everyone kept asking me why I looked so sad.
I answered, “I’m not sad.”
Looking back, I don’t think I let myself know how sad I was. But it showed. I waltzed with
my grandpa as the mariachis played the song, “La Última Muñeca.” When the waltz finished, he called my sister back to the dance floor, and my grandma, crying, gave us each our
last doll.
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The Call
Eric Luna Rivera
I was pumped. I knew it would be a perfect night.
Something wasn’t right, though. I was nervous—more nervous than any other weekend
night. I was feeling a bad vibe, a vibe I had never felt before.
I was shaking, more nervous than ever. It was twelve-thirtyish and I had barely left my
parents’ room. They were fully awake and I was aware of that, but that wasn’t going to stop
me from sneaking out that night. My friend kept calling, telling me to hurry up—that they
had been waiting outside my house for a while and that it was cold and the girls we were
kicking it with had already snuck out and were just waiting for us.
I had to make the move already. I had to get out. I had the spare keys to my mom’s truck. I
went out the back door and ran through my neighbor’s yard. My friend was waiting for me.
I made him get into the truck. I was super scared to turn on the truck because it would make
a big noise and I was paranoid that my parents would hear it. I turned the truck on and
pulled out of the driveway right away. We were going to Queen Anne. I was feeling weird—
as if something was going to happen.
All of a sudden, I felt my phone vibrate.
My heart was racing super fast, making me feel as if I had cheetahs running all around. I
checked, and it was Mom. I didn’t know what to do. I knew my life was going to be hell
when I got home. I turned back to go home. There was no way we were going to meet up
with the girls. I was caught. I was very angry and scared and kept hitting the steering wheel.
I remember looking down and my friend yelling that I had almost crashed into a taxi. My
mom kept calling. Then it was my dad, my cousin and even my uncle. Never did I answer.
My plan was to play like I had just gone to McDonalds. I was scared to death of facing my
dad. I got a McDoubles french fries to make it seem convincing, I went crazy on the road
just to get home. I was going eighty miles an hour plus up 15th Street. At the intersection by
the Safeway, close to my house, I saw my dad out looking for me. I thought I was taking the
secret way home, but he saw me too.
When I got home, my mom and uncle were really disappointed.
“You better go to sleep before your dad walks in,” Mom said.
But I didn’t. I sat down and tried eating my McDonalds but I couldn’t even eat it, I was
so nervous. My stomach was hurting. I was afraid. When my dad came home, it was as if
the devil had walked in. He went straight for me and I knew I was going to get a beating,
but my uncle stepped in and pushed him away. My dad started yelling at me and saying
a bunch of stuff nonstop for, like, thirty minutes. I just went to my room and tried falling
asleep. We went about a month without talking.
I learned a lot from this mistake of mine—al ways answer your parents’ phone calls. It’s
a worry thing. If they can’t get ahold of you, they worry more, making them imagine all
kinds of bad trouble. I knew it was a bad idea to be taking the truck, because at any moment
I could have crashed and died or killed someone, or have been pulled over and gotten into
deep trouble. So I was glad, after all, that I had gotten caught and that I had learned my lesson.
ERIC LUNA RIVERA
is a junior at Ballard High. He plays
all the positions on the Ballard soccer
team. In the future, he wants to move
to the Bay Area and be a police officer,
or something like it.
PHOTO BY VICTORIA VANBRUINESSE
But as I always say, STRICT PARENTS CREATE SNEAKY KIDS.
LISTEN TO ERIC’S STORY HERE: http://cowbird.com/story/80857/The_Call
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Rainy Day
Danna Bunt
DANNA BUNT
is a student at Ballard High School.
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It is a rainy day in Seattle. I am six years old. Hearing phone calls every minute, every second.
What’s going on? If only I could ask my mom. Everyone is rushing to the door after that
one phone call. It rains even harder. A storm’s coming.
Suddenly, we’re downtown at the busiest time it can be—traffic everywhere.
Police are patrolling the streets. The rain is falling constantly. My sister is cutting people
off on the road. The car’s full with my family. I don’t know what’s happening.
Finally we’re here. What is this place? It’s a creepy building with this plus sign on it.
I’m confused and worried. Something about this place isn’t good news.
Here we are on the highest floor. Looking for the right room, found it. Seeing my mom on
the hospital bed. I go to hug her. She isn’t awake. Everyone is all sad and down. I’m confused about what is going on.
My older sister asks me if I want to spend the night there with her. I say yes.
It’s getting late. What’s that beeping noise I hear? Everyone’s emotions change instantly.
My sister runs to go get the doctor. I don’t understand why everyone is tearing up. I believe
that everything is OK when it isn’t. My sister and brother run out to talk to my older sister
and the doctors. I have a lot of brothers and sisters, I’m not even sure how many. Everyone
is upset. I still have no idea what is happening.
My mother had died. Until that day I had not even known that she was sick.
Later I learned that she had died of this mysterious thing called cancer. Everything in my
life was challenged at that moment. My belief that everything was okay was challenged.
My belief that my mother would see me grow up was challenged. I learned to keep myself
safe, but trouble seemed to find me.
No matter where I go or who I’m with or what I’m doing, from then on, I would always be
alone.
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Free
Kyle Marston
When you’re going down Yesler thirty miles per hour in the rain, everything else fades away.
You’re not thinking about the horrified driver behind you as you bomb the red light. You’re
not thinking about whatever items are nestled in your bag. You’re not thinking about the
customer you’re delivering to. It’s just you, the bike, and the road. You’re not ignoring the
traffic: it’s just a repeat. You know what the cars are going to do before they do it. The center
lane is the safest because in any other, someone will open a door on you. Even if they did,
there’s a fifty percent chance you’ll pull through. You reach the destination, lock the bike,
and make your delivery. It’s the time away from your bike that gets you. You see what could’ve happened, but
didn’t. You feel how much water is in your shoes. You worry about making enough money
to pay rent. But it all fades away again when you see your bike and get your next run. When you ride fixed, the bike becomes an extension of your body. When you pedal, the
bike goes. When you stop, so does the bike. Every single movement is echoed by the bike.
Forget you’re riding fixed and stop pedaling? You go over the handlebars. Stuck at a stoplight or track stand? Your feet become the pedals after hundreds of thousands of crank revolutions. Your foot retention is your brakes. Without them, there’s nothing to stop you.
When you work at a bike shop as well, it’s your saving grace. When your bike has a problem,
you have a problem. You’re crippled by it. You need it fixed. You buy whatever you need to
get it fixed. Your coworkers laugh at you for spending so much time and money on a fixed
gear, but when you spend forty-plus hours a week on your bike, you’re not spending money
on it, you’re spending it on yourself.
You fix the problem and wait impatiently for the workday to end so you can ride again. Get
back to the road, the cars, and the pedestrians.
You moved out of your parents’ house on your eighteenth birthday. You’re thankful for
all they did for you, but it’s time to chart your own path in life. You work two jobs to pay
the rent. You go to two schools to graduate. You shop out of the manager’s special section to
save money. You’re tired and hungry, but you’re happy. You have all you need. You have a
bike, food, and shelter. Everyone says that you could be so much more. You could have it all:
an office job, a car, a house, a happy family. You could be successful. But to you, that’s not
success. All you see are student loans, car payments, and a mortgage. You don’t want these
things.
You don’t want something that’s torn apart thousands of families. You don’t want a credit
score, good or bad. You live simply because you want to. Not because your financial status
dictates it. You could get a blue-collar job at Boeing and watch your children grow up contentedly—grateful to you for buying the new Apple or Android gadgets. You could be everyone’s version of success.
PHOTO BY VICTORIA VANBRUINESSE
But you don’t want that. You want to be your own person. You don’t want to be a prisoner
of someone else’s dreams; you want to be free. You are free.
KYLE MARSTON
lives in Seattle and attended
Ballard High School.
LISTEN TO KYLE’S STORY HERE: http://cowbird.com/story/80865/Free
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Obstacles to Life
Frances Baker
FRANCES BAKER
is a Junior at Ballard High School.
She loves music and photography. In
the future, she wants to start her own
foundation. She is inspired by live
music and concerts, where you can
never be sad.
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What gives you harmony? That soothing feeling that spreads throughout your body, that soaks
into your pores and melts into your bones, that jolts into your soul and veins.. Everybody in
life has a purpose no matter what—something that gives one true happiness. Well my happiness and purpose is singing.
Every day my highlight is when I go to choir. It makes me feel relaxed. It makes me feel
carefree and lucky that I have an environment where I can practice my pieces with the people around me and see progress. I’m a first alto. It’s a middle part so it requires a lot of listening
around me. I have to make sure my harmony is good and the clashes that occur in the pieces
don’t sound too flat or too sharp. Ms. Pelavin, the director, points out the problems and flaws
to fix for the group, but I should be able to point them out myself to improve my skills. When
I’m singing, I feel like I’m actually good at something—that I can do something.
Being part of a group makes me feel responsible, but contained. Sometimes I feel like I
should be heard as an individual voice, not just the one that’s connected to everyone else.
It makes me think about my future—how much I’ll have to individually grow, not just in
a group. I still have insecurities and doubts that I struggle with almost every day. My confidence and belief in myself isn’t what it should be. To be happy, I’ll need more independence,
and self-confidence.
I always have feelings about myself that make me feel like “I can’t .” These thoughts can
control and take over my mind, but that doesn’t mean I need to give in to them. I can’t let
these thoughts swarm me for life. When the negative thoughts start to brew in my head, singing, makes me forget.
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E A Memory Repealed
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Arturo Castenada
Just pulled up to El Corazon, getting ready to load in with the guys for the first live show. Oh
man, is it a great feeling! Everyone in the band is stoked to get on stage and perform alongside friends and musicians. Earlier the same day a pre-show was held at the house where we
practice, and the turnout was larger then expected which was a total surprise. Although our
the fan base is just beginning to grow, the number of people waiting in line is unbelievable.
Fifth on the set list out of eight: here we go. The band steps on stage--massive amounts of
adrenaline kick in. Here we are, a dream come alive. As the night goes on people begin to feel
the music, taking photos, singing along. The music is personal to the band members, and the
crowd is enjoying it.
One year earlier…
ARTURO CASTENADA
is a Junior at Ballard High School.
She loves music and photography. In
the future, she wants to start her own
foundation. She is inspired by live
music and concerts, where you can
never be sad.
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PHOTO BY VICTORIA VANBRUINESSE
Working night after night to get the right sound, the front man and I of Stories Away mix instrumental and vocal tracks. We have created ‘The Potential End,” later renamed “Pale Skies.”
In the making of the band we had many obstacles mixing music, having line-up changes,
and establishing the band’s identity.
I mix audio for groups, set up audio equipment, and I make music. Over time the music
mixing process has grown on me along with other roles in the band; I’ve now produced two
bands and three solo artists.
For me, music opens up parts of my mind that haven’t been explored. With that, music has
become a passion.
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Family Music
Gerardo Cervantes-Naranjo
GERARDO
CERVANTES-NARANJO
is a sophomore at Ballard High School.
He loves playing the guitar, skateboarding and the ocean. One day,
he would like to go scuba diving at a
beautiful coral reef. .
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PHOTO BY VICTORIA VANBRUINESSE
The first time I heard music was when I was five years old. I was in an outdoor covered area
by the house where my dad worked. It was a hot California night. It was even hotter because
I was dancing and running around with all my relatives. I was with my whole family, all together. My relatives were playing traditional Mexican music together in a band with a guitar,
drums, and bajosestos—12 string guitars you play by hitting two strings at a time. My uncle
and my grandma were the main singers. Some of the music was allegre—happy, upbeat. Other songs were sad and told stories of Mexican villagers falling into trouble. I looked at all the
instruments and thought to myself, how could music come out of such strange objects?
The first instrument I tried to learn myself was a clarinet when I was twelve in middle
school band class. I hated it. Especially the way the vibration felt on my teeth. The first time
I really felt interested in playing music was a year later when I picked up the guitar. My dad
taught me to play the flamenco song “La Malagueña.” It took me a week trying hard to learn
the individual notes. I wrote them down on a piece of paper so I could remember. My fingers
hurt on my left hand because I had to push down really hard to make the notes. My right
hand looked like a spider running as I played. With my thumb, I hit the guitar to make a bass
sound. When I played the song it made me feel Spanish.
After that, I started playing music all the time. I played with my uncle Cesario and my
18-year-old cousin, Alan. They played everything—guitar, accordion, mandolin, tololoche
(like a bass with fat strings that you pluck). I played guitar. We didn’t have a band name, but
we would play together every day in the garage of the house we shared. My grandma said
we couldn’t play inside because it was too noisy. We played mostly traditional Mexican folk
music-- rancheros and corridos--and we made our own songs too.
Since then, I have gotten good at playing a bunch of instruments, including the ukulele,
cello, mandolin, bass, piano, and I even went back to the clarinet. I just moved to Seattle a
year ago, and most of my family is still in Mendocino County in California, so right now I
play mostly by myself in my house. I play everything from church music to metal. One day
I would like to become a professional musician in a band. When I play music I feel alive and
like time is stopping around me and only music is playing.
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The Beach
Nicolette Nunez
When I close my eyes, I see Ocean Beach. When I was younger, my mom made me and my sister
take trips to the beach. After doing the same things all the time—sandwiches, boogie boards,
same towels (ridiculous, I know), same parking spot—it became monotonous. It smelled
salty, and the water was dark blue with white-capped waves. There were huge rocks leading
down into the ocean, and if you stood on a particular part of the beach, you could hear the
sound of the waves smashing into them. When I think of that sound, all I can think of is the
ocean.
But a year ago, everything changed and I moved to Seattle with my mom. I left behind my
sister, family, friends, and that beach in San Diego. I was finally forced to a Seattle beach – we
went to the Sound at Golden Gardens. I was shocked to find that there were no waves. There
were maybe tiny ripples, but the water seemed totally flat. The sand was gross. It wasn’t soft
and white – it was rocky and a dirty, salt and pepper color. Not the kind of sand you actually
want to walk in, it felt hard under my feet. People weren’t even in the water – I didn’t want to
go in, or even get close to it at all. In San Diego, people were everywhere; there were lifeguard
towers, and people were laughing and yelling. In Seattle, it was quiet, and there were way
fewer people. How could there be no waves? What kind of ocean is that? This made me miss
home even more.
NICOLETTE NUNEZ
is a Junior at Ballard High School.
She loves music and photography. In
the future, she wants to start her own
foundation. She is inspired by live
music and concerts, where you can
never be sad.
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PHOTO BY VICTORIA VANBRUINESSE
Seattle has beaches, but I don’t care to go to the beach anymore.
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ZOO POEMS
Our youngest writers PENNED poems inspired by a field trip to the woodland park zoo, where they
observed, took notes on, and illustrated many of the animals.
Blackbird
Watching
Bethania Bahru
Cris Torrescano-Hernandez
Black bird
is looking for food
reading about birds
Doing eating.
The penguins are really big.
They were following my
pencil.
The jaguars are sleeping.
They are moving a little bit.
The turtles are sleeping.
Their necks are sideways.
The poison dart frogs are
tiny.
They are peeking at us.
The flamingoes are fighting
and arguing.
They are squeaking.
The beetle has a green spot
on his back.
Sleeping otter
in a nest
covered with fur
swimming
den to den.
The giraffe
long legs long
tail short
brown and white
ears.
Penguin; Tarantula
Ryan Musehl
Penguins are perfect for
Eating, with the right recipe—
No food is better.
Guano, more guano!
Ugh! Why are you trying to get
away?
I’ll make you a stew!
No penguin will escape!
BETHANIA BAHRU
is six years old and in the first
grade at Whittier Elementary.
She likes her bedroom and wants
to be a teacher.
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The tarantulas are perfect,
and they are successful
right in the middle of town,
and then you better run!
No way, you can’t escape!
The tarantula is perfect.
Us, they’ll suck our blood.
Like it?
Ahhh ahhhhh!
RYAN MUSEHL
is eight years old and in second
grade. He is home-schooled,
and wants to be an awesome
Jedi when he grows up.
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CRISTOPHER
TORRESCANO-HERNANDEZ
is in second grade at Greenwood Elementary. He loves
drawing and Star Wars, and his
dream is to be a scuba diver.
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S TA R WO R D s
LAST summer, workshop STUDENTS TRAVELED TO the UW planetarium, where THEY used a combination of
MICROSOFT’S worldwide telescope program and science fiction literature to explore space and create
their own stories.
Disaster on the Icy Planet!
Colman Bashore
The ship sped through the solar system at two light years per hour. It sped past Mars, past
Jupiter, past Saturn, and then zoomed straight out past Uranus, Neptune and Pluto, into the
vast area of space.
About five thousand light years further into space it exited the Milky Way. This ship was
no ordinary ship; it was a space exploration ship. It was called the Intergalactic Exploration
Pod, or I.G.E.P. It was one of the fastest crafts known to
man and also the largest. I.G.E.P was flown by the calm intergalactic pilot Sir B.G. Wales and
his easily frightened co-pilot Private A.N. Shield. Two scientists accompanied the pilots: the
smart but panicky Professor J.C. Cane and the quiet Professor I.Z. Lale.
When they reached their destination, a gray planet covered in cracks with black splotches
scattered across the surface, they sent down a large landing craft.
”Why would anyone ever want to come here?” shuddered Private Shield.
He and Professor Cane stepped onto the icy surface of the planet, clad in star suits. They
hoped the suits were well made. The two men reached into the craft and drew out a torpedo-shaped object with a red end. The red tip was extremely hot and started melting the ice
immediately. After a few hours, a gaping hole was left in the ice, and the two men returned
to I.G.E.P.
“Whew, I’m glad that’s over,” said Shield.
The next day, or at least 24 hours later according to I.G.E.P instruments, the tired explorers
took a crab-shaped craft with a large bubble cockpit and set it above the hole in the ice. Sir
Wales and Professor
Cane clambered into the craft and descended into the hole.
“We hope we will live to see you again,” they said.
The explorers traveled under the ice on a mission to find intelligent life down in the planet. After twenty minutes they found themselves in a large underwater cave. It was a gigantic cavern covered in a vast array of colors.
“Amazing,” observed Cane.
In the center was a small building, and from it emerged the aliens. They were tall and thin,
completely orange, with flipper hands and feet, and bulbous eyes. They grabbed Wales and
Cane and shoved them roughly into a huge pit.
Cane was desperate, “What are we going to do?” he exclaimed. “How are we supposed to
study extraterrestrial life when the extraterrestrials are evil aliens who shove us into deep
black pits?!”
“Calm down,” comforted Wales. “Getting back to Earth alive is more important than studying. Anyway, when we don’t come back, Shield and Lale will come looking for us.”
“They can’t. They don’t have the crab!”
“Oh yeah,” remembered Wales.
Six hours later, according to their galactic watches, they were brought food by an alien
who they attempted to converse with, but they were ignored. The two explorers tried in
vain to swim up out of the pit but a web of electric seaweed sent them straight back down.
Ten hours later, two aliens in black armor and sea jet-packs descended into the pit and
dragged the explorers up and out.
“What’re you doing with us?!” screamed Cane.
“We are taking you to the Tzokae Lintuz,” replied the alien.
“The Pokey Lint?”
“Silence!”
Continued on next page!
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Star words
The aliens, who identified themselves as Vbloko, took the explorers to a large building. They were led through several halls and staircases until they found themselves
in a huge throne room.
“Bow before the Tzokae Lintuz,” snapped one of the aliens in armor.
They bowed before a large lumpish alien with a long purple robe with flowing
sleeves. The membrane in between its fingers was baggy and the creature’s eyes
were bored.
“Why are you here?” asked the Tzokae Lintuz.
“We are explorers from the planet Earth,” replied Wales.
“I have never heard of the planet Earth,” said the Tzokae Lintuz. “Take them to the
prison, they will be my entertainers.”
Some of the aliens led them down some cracked stone stairs to a large dark room
filled with other prisoners. It was crowded with indescribable aliens and the floor
was hard and rocky.
“Why did I ever want to go to space!” despaired Cane.
The two got no sleep that night. The next day two aliens came and led them up
the stairs to the Tzokae Lintuz’s throne room.
They were given drums and rattles and told to entertain the Tzokae Lintuz.
After the two unskilled musicians were done relieving the Tzokae Lintuz from his
boredom, they were led back down the stairs where a meal of hard, dry, and moldy
bread and water was waiting. “The aliens are everywhere,” said Wales. “Escape is
impossible.”
Epilogue
Meanwhile, Lale and Shield were waiting. After one Earth week, they made the
painful decision to abandon their friends and head back to Earth. Years later, they
still wondered what had happened to J.C Cane and B.G Wales on that planet far
away.
COLMAN BASHORE
an eleven-year-old Trekkie, attends Seattle Country
Day School. In his opinion,
The Rangers Apprentice:
Emperor of Nihon-ja is the
only story that can compare
to Star Trek.
U
t!
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GUTTER STARS
MILES RAPPAPORT
The famous Irish writer Oscar Wilde once
wrote in one of his plays: “We are all in
the gutter, but some of us are looking at
the stars.” What do you think this means?
I think it means, “We are all in the same mass, but
some are looking at what could happen to the
Earth, to your family, to you!” Things like having
man reach different galaxies, or small things like
growing up.
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Mars
Liam Hyde
“We are now landing on Mars.” The pilot began the highly complicated landing procedure
as the crew of scientists and explorers got in their fresh off the factory when they left, but
now the stinky and dusty space gear.
As they flew into Mars’ thin atmosphere, Cole asked Rita, “Why are we doing this again?”
“Because the government wanted humans on Mars.” Rita pulled her left boot on.
“I know, but we’ve had rovers here for 300 years. Why do we need humans?” Cole pulled
on his right glove.
“Probes don’t explore or go off course.” Rita stood up as she put on her helmet.
“Fine. At least we’re here after a three-month voyage.” Cole pulled on his air tank and stood
up. The main chamber was completely white with three doors going out. One went to the
cockpit. One went to the sleeping quarters of 24 people, 10 explorers, 10 scientists, and 4
pilots. Cole was a grumbly, stubborn scientist, and Rita was an optimistic explorer. Being
stubborn was good for scientists, and being optimistic was good for an explorer, so the were
both good at their jobs. About seven minutes after entering the atmosphere, the Expander
landed on Mars. The third door opened into a ramp that led down to the rusty metal of mars.
Rita was the first to attempt to sprint onto Mars.
“Woo-hoo!” she yelled through the intercom as she bounded across Mars, a strange glowing appeared where her left foot hit. The glowing grew brighter and a hatch appeared out of
the blue. Rita began to backtrack and she fell into the hole. A surprised screech came over
the intercom as she fell.
“Are you okay?” Cole bounded to the new hatch.
“I’m fine, just a bit startled.” Rita’s voice was shaky.
“We’re coming!” Cole clambered down a rope.
“It’s fascinating down here.” Rita walked around the dank, smelly, and dark room. “Guys,
come down here. I need some tools.” Cole’s voice echoed around the chamber.
“It’s like an airlock!” Rita stopped walking. “That looks like a door!”
“You probably—darn it!” Cole said. Rita pulled open the door. Immediately the hatch
closed and the rope was cut off.
“Yep, definitely an air lock,” Rita said as she sprinted into the room.
“Huh, we’re cut off from the others.” Cole followed into a hall with fire and oxygen-rich
plants lining the sides.
“It looks like we can breathe.” Rita took her helmet and armor off. She shook her long
brown hair and inhaled deeply.
“Is it good air?” Cole prepared to take off his helmet.
“As good as Earth’s.” Rita did some deep breathing.
“Lead the way, explorer.” Cole ripped off his helmet and breathed deeply. “There appears to
be a gravity much like Earth’s here.”
Rita ignored him and followed his first order, lead the way.
After a lot of walking, they came to an intersection.
“Which way?” Cole inquired.
“The oxygen path goes on the left, so if the species who built this ship is intelligent, it’s
probably a trap.” Rita pulled on her helmet and walked the path of fire.
After another fifteen minutes of walking, they came to a door.
“Rita, pull out your weapon,” said Cole, as he pulled out his low-power atomic disrupter
and checked its 100% charge. “I’m opening the door.”
Rita pressed a glowing button. The room was dimly lit and rimmed with oxygen plants. An
opaque, glass-like canister dominated the center of the room. Rita walked around marveling
at every detail.
Suddenly, she tripped and activated a button on the edge of the room. There was a loud
rumbling and the caskets plummeted into an unknown area. Then, they were sucked
through the casket holes where they then began to float in space. Once Cole was over the
shock of the cavern, he was shocked ten times as much about the giant spaceship before
them. As they began space-swimming back to their shuttle, which had fallen off of Mars as
the “planet” transformed, the only thought that occurred to Cole was, “how will we be able
to defeat something that massive?”
To be continued…
LIAM HYDE
dreams of creating new worlds.
He is inspired by cats, magic,
honey badgers, and by the fantastical worlds he explores videogames and books. He hopes
to become a videogame designer, making his dream worlds a
reality.
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AFTER-SCHOOL TUTORING
AS PART OF OUR AFTER SCHOOL TUTORING PROGRAM, STUDENTS ARE ENCOURAGED
TO WRITE CREATIVELY AFTER THEY FINISH THEIR HOMEWORK. THIS TAKES MANY FORMS,
FROM THE STOP AND JOTS FEATURED IN THIS BOOK, TO JOURNALISM PROJECTS, TO POEMS AND STORIES.
Sinking Peacefully
Arcadia Seilestad
I dipped my hands into the scene of stars
The night sky rippled to my touch
I grasped the dark but it slipped away
I no longer felt troubled I let the cold wrap around me
As I plunged into the deep dark
I thought with the liquid inspiration
surrounding my body
There was no more up nor was there down
The stars were more beautiful as I got closer
I had the ideas of gods
As I lay still, suspended in the sky
I had poetry slipping off of my tongue
I had art dancing off my fingers
It was wonderful and horrifying all at once
When I realized I was sinking
The sky was eating me
I thrashed and spun in the web
I realized
That sleeping eternally among the stars was my fate
I let them swallow me whole
And I was happy again as
I let myself drown in the light of the moon
ARCADIA SEIELSTAD
is in eighth grade and is home
schooled. Already she is an accomplished artist, and uses both
drawing and poetry to inspire
her creative work. In the future,
she hopes to one day see the Aurora Borealis.
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N O T E S T O G OAT S
Students in this summer workshop visited the puget sound goat rescue
and wrote notes, stories, and poems to and about the goats they met there.
CHECK OUT THE PUGET SOUND GOAT RESCUE: www.goatsave.org
Dear Marigold,
Dear Belle,
When I met you I noticed your belly was
super big. I wonder how you feel with a
bigger belly than the other goats? My mom
says that kids are such a pain, so watch out!
Before I went to the rescue I did not know
a lot about goats but with your help I have
learned more about them. One thing that I
learned is that goats can climb! Very cool. I
enjoyed meeting you.
Could you please tell Charlie for me that
he was too excited to see me? So tell him
next time to be like you. You were amazingly calm. You were so calm that I thought
you must be everybody’s favorite. You’re
especially my favorite and you always will
be. Barbara must be very lucky to have you.
I would bet on that.
I know why you like to nibble on shirts,
because it’s kind of enjoyable. But I stopped
doing it because my parents were mad. You
know how parents are.
From,
Eric
Sincerely,
Lou
Dear Tulip,
Dear Charlie,
When I met you I noticed that you were
tan and white and very cute.
Do you like your hay? Or would you like
to eat strawberries and raspberries and
chocolate cake? I think you should try fruit
and chocolate cake because I have had it
and I fully recommend it (not saying that
hay is bad or anything). I like how you
were so friendly and happy when I patted
you. I learned that you eat alfalfa, and the
boys do not.
What are you doing right now? Are you eating? If you are eating, what are you eating? I
learned you couldn’t eat alfalfa. My brother said
that was unfair; do you think so? I don’t think
so, because it might make you sick.
When you read this, I will be at Camp of the
Cascades. I don’t know what I will be doing at
Camp of the Cascades, but I wish it had goats.
It has horses, but they aren’t the same. I will
miss you and all the other goats at your farm.
When I was in your pen, I noticed you kept
nibbling at my shirt. I don’t know if that means
you like me or if you just like nibbling on people’s shirts. I hope it doesn’t mean you don’t like
me, because I like you and I want you to be my
goat-friend. I’m glad you didn’t actually nibble
a hole in my shirt. I would have been mad at
you because it was my favorite shirt.
I also noticed that you didn’t like it when I
brushed your fur, but you liked it when someone else brushed you. But I wasn’t jealous, so
you don’t have to worry, because I don’t like it
and think it hurts when I brush my own hair.
I learned a lot from you and really liked visiting
your farm. I hope some day I’ll be able to come
back. I made two Japanese haiku poems for you:
Best wishes,
Sarah
ERIC BELL
is a fifth grader at Green Lake
Elementary School.
LOU MARTINEZ
is a fourth grader at Greenwood Elementary School. In
addition to writing, he enjoys
playing basketball, baseball,
soccer and clarinet.
SARAH BELL
is a fifth grader at Green Lake
Elementary School.
MARIN CADY
lives in Shoreline and is a
third grader at Parkwood
Elementary School.
Charlie is so nice
Charlie tried to eat my shirt
He nibbled at it.
Charlie is my friend
I hope to see Charlie soon
Charlie is silly.
From,
Marin
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Notes to Goats
INTERESTED? JEALOUS? AFRAID?
W R I TE Y O U R OW N
NOTE
TO A
GOAT!
CREAT E Y OUR G OA T
1. CHOOSE YOUR BREED
ANGLO-NUBIAN
SAANAN
NIGERIAN DWARF
2. CHOOSE YOUR MARKINGS
WHITE SPOTS
HORNS
BROWN SPOTS
BEARD
?
YOUR CHOICE
3. CHOOSE YOUR PERSONALITY TRAITS
CLIMBER
BLEATER
EATER
JUMPER
SNUGGLER
W RI T E Y OUR N OT E
...about anything! Past Notes to Goats have included such
colorful and varied topics as siblings, Popeye, color-blindness,
snot, street cleaners, petting etiquette, favorite foods, raccoons,
shirts, Minecraft, L.A., cowbells, chocolate cake, acrostics, berries of all types and alfalfa preferences.
SEND IT OF F !
Share your note to your goat with us here at 826 Seattle!
8414 Greenwood Ave N., Seattle WA, 98103
GOA T ILLUSTRA TIONS B Y
ADDIE SIE RS
DARIA SCHE MME L
E RIC BE LL
LANGLE Y FITZPATRICK
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M A R C O YO L O !
INVENTING STORIES ABOUT TRAVELS WAS THE GOAL BEHIND THIS SUMMER WORKSHOP,
WHERE STUDENTS IMAGINED WHAT IT MIGHT BE LIKE TO BE IN FAR-AWAY PLACES.
My Grandmother’s Story
Ava Kwong
I woke up in the middle of the night, hearing my grandmother saying, “Get up! Get up!”
“Get some of your things packed! Fast!” she said in an urgent voice.
“Why?” I asked.
“Just get some of your things packed. I’ll explain later!” she said. I had a bad feeling
about this. Soon, I had my stuffed bamboo suitcase in one hand and a woven bag in
my other hand.
“Come on!” My grandmother hurried me and my five-year-old sister out the door.
My grandmother carried my sister while I carried her luggage. As we walked through
the dark and enormous forest, we heard something rustling.
“Be quiet!” My grandmother whispered.
“Where are we going?” my little sister squeaked.
“To Hong Kong,” my grandmother said. “We have to walk quickly. We are going to
the river.”
“The river?” I echoed. “That’s a mile away!”
“Don’t worry!” My grandmother said. “We only have a quarter of a mile left!”
“Whoa! That was fast!” I said.
It’s 1954 and I am nine years old. We are escaping from Guangdong because Communism is spreading throughout China. The Chinese Civil War had started in 1927
and ended in 1950. In the middle of the war, the Japanese invaded China, so China
was fighting the Japanese and Chinese communists. After the war, when Mao Zedong
came to power, Communism spread rapidly.
Finally, we got to the river. Lots of other people were waiting, too. The boat came,
and we all climbed aboard. It was packed with people. We could stand, sit, or lie
down. I decided to sit down, marking my spot with my bags. I heard people whispering to each other in Chinese and once in a while a baby cried. I lay down on the hard
deck and looked at the sky. It was too cloudy to see the moon. The deck was cold. I
decided to get back up again. I pulled out my knitting. I was glad I brought it. I have
loved knitting my entire life.
After a while I started to feel sick. I felt like I was going to throw up so I decided to
lie down and sleep, waiting for it to be over.
Two days later, we got off the boat. It was good to be on land again. I started to feel
much better. We walked to a train station and looked all over for the train to take us to
Hong Kong. I spotted an officer and asked him where the train to Hong Kong was. He
pointed, and I thanked him. We got aboard and found a place to sit.
After what felt like years, we got off the train. My sister and I ran around looking for
our mother. Then we spotted her, carrying bread, looking for us.
“Hi, Mother!” we shouted and ran to hug her. We had not seen her in two years.
“Are you hungry?” she asked us.
“Yes!” we said. She gave us some bread. I bit into it and realized it was my favorite
kind! Next, we took a bus to my mother’s house. I was really happy, sitting there eating my bread. Finally we got off of the bus and walked to the house that my mother
and older brother had picked out for us. When we got there, I saw my older brother! I
had not seen him in two years. It was so good to see him again! I ran over to him and
hugged him.
“Hi!” he said and hugged me back.I never saw my old house again.
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Ten years later, I met a really nice guy in high school. We dated until his brother
took him to America. Two months later, I received a letter in the mail. It was from
him! He asked me if I would marry him. I immediately wrote back saying that I
would. One year later, after lots of paperwork, I finally flew to the United States of
America. When I got there, I had to learn many new things–even how to hold a cup
the right way!
We got married and worked in a restaurant in Bellevue, Washington, which we
eventually owned, called Sun Sun. It was a Chinese restaurant, of course, but my son
made delicious grilled American cheese sandwiches for kids.
AVA KWONG
attends Bryant Elementary School and enjoys
reading, writing, history
and spending time with
her cats.
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M A R C O YO L O !
The Danger of a Rainy Day
in a Helicopter
E
N
LI E
ON
V
I
S
U
Brayson Dahlgaard
CL
X
E
One day rain poured down on a tropical island just as I was flying over in a helicopter.
The rain was different - it was green, it glowed, it was sticky - this meant it was toxic.
It flooded the island and made a huge wave. I saw people get knocked out and sent
flying by the waves in the boats below. The huge waves hit the helicopter. I fell to the
island and I was knocked unconscious.
Once I awoke on the island, I found that there were killer Venus Fly Traps, pea
plants that shot their peas at you, and regular flowers that cut you apart so that the
Venus Fly Traps could finish you off. I tamed a Venus Fly Trap, pea plant, and flower.
I grew them on my own, so they knew me and wouldn’t want to kill me. The plants
were in pots. I found a toxic puddle, and gave each of my plants a little bit of the
mossy-looking water so that they would mutate like the rest.
I had to escape before time ran out. The plants were growing and going to kill me
and then take over the world. I needed to find the least deadly path to the boats I had
seen from my helicopter ride. But, there were paths within paths, as if the jungle was
a giant killer maze. I needed some tools first: a knife for if I got tangled up in the vine
traps, a small sword for if I ran into Venus Fly Traps, plant food for my plants, regular water, and an axe for if I ran into any wooden walls. Then I walked past a shed. I
walked in and that’s where I found my tools.
Going through the jungle, I did not know what to expect. That’s why I had these
plants. If I didn’t have the right tool, then the plants could help. The first unexpected things were trees that tried to whack and hurt me with their branches. Here, my
pea plant helped by shooting its peas at the trees from a safe distance. It had a longer
range than the tree’s enemy branches.
The next things I ran into were quicksand, algae, and moss. The moss could kill my
plants, and so could the algae. The quicksand was like a trap in an unfair Mario game
because it was hidden. The trees and evil plants covered the quicksand with branches
so I couldn’t see it. However, there was a certain pattern. Normally the leaves didn’t
touch each other, but when they covered the quicksand, the leaves were stacked. I
could see it because normally the leaves were far apart but when on the quicksand,
they were on top of one another. I was shivering with nervousness, but then I found
a nearby tree and a branch with a greenish-yellow vine hanging down. The quicksand was wetter than all of the dirt and it attracted vines. I grabbed onto a vine, and
I swung across the quicksand to the other side, but the quicksand was so enormous, I
had to grab another vine, and then another, and then another. The vines were slippery from the rain forest in the jungle. I slipped down the vine and my foot dipped
into the quicksand. “AHHH!” I quickly climbed back up the vine to have a higher grip,
and pulled myself out.
I knew there was a source of water near the quicksand because the quicksand was
wet, so I knew the algae and moss were next. I did not want them to hurt my plants,
so I picked some of the peas off my pea plant and planted them. I made a little hut
out of the enemy trees I had encountered, using the sticks and leaves, and let my pea
pants grow over night. I let my Venus flytrap and flower guard my pea plants and hut
while I slept peacefully.
The next morning, I had my pea plants form a line so that all of the algae and moss
enemies were in sight. The moss was worse than the algae because it could grow on
trees and turn into lichen. Lichen is where two plants become one. My biggest fear
was that the pea plant and moss would combine and the pea plants would shoot moss
from a far-off distance at my plants. I needed to tame some moss before the enemy
moss had the opportunity to kill my pea plants.
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M A R C O YO L O !
The next day, I got my moss combined with pea plants. I told my plants nicely,
“Just walk closer to the pool of water until you see the enemy algae and moss and
begin shooting your moss and peas at them.” They knew they had to listen to me
because I fed them.
The battle lasted for five hours. Finally I could shout, “Victory!”
I walked through the dead moss and algae out to the edge of the sea that had been
blocking my path. I found the boats. My plants and I motored home.
BRAYSON DAHLGAARD
attends Bryant Elementary School and enjoys
reading, writing, history
and spending time with
her cats.
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M A R C O YO L O !
E
N
I
L VE
ONCLUSI
EX
Trouble in Seaonia
Tatum McLaughlin
Chapter 1
Once upon an adventure…
Wait, wait, wait, hold it. Adventure? You’re calling my life an adventure!? Ha ha,
very funny. Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Mercury. I’m 12 years old
and live in Joansville (more like Boringsville). I’m an adventurous girl living in a boring town and I’m about to tell you about the adventure of a lifetime.
It all started during another drab day in Joansville (boringsville)… My family was
going to the town announcements. They were usually dull things like the time of the
next town meeting, or the location of a memorial service, but today was different!
I walked up to the platform and waited for my eyes to glaze over. But no! The mayor stepped on stage and said, “I don’t know why anyone would do this,” (that always
means it’s going to be exciting) “but our neighbors underwater are in need of our help.
They requested one person be sent to help rid them of the Oantula a terrible monster
with a tarantula body and a great white shark head. It’s eating all of Seaonia’s crops.
“Ahhh!”said the villagers.
The mayor said. “The volunteer has to be older than 10 and very brave. If you would
like to go, please step on stage.”
I of course, stepped onto the platform. I was the only person on stage. The mayor
said, “it looks like we have our adventurer, does anyone object?” I was sure my parents
would, but they didn’t! So I packed my bags and two days later was off to Seaonia.
At the same time in Seaonia… panic was breaking out.
“Calm down everyone,” said the queen, “There is a young adventurer by the name of
Mercury coming to save us.”
“Hooray!” said the people, “Here she is now, can you see her over there?”
Mercury was freaking out! The people of Seaonia had given her the ability to breath underwater. It was so cool! I’ve already visited a cool city on land. It was called Tor. I
had some great chocolate! Then I went underwater.
“Ohh I think I see Seaonia up ahead. It looks totally amazing (unlike Joansville)I
can’t wait!” (but I as a fearless young girl didn’t think about the danger I’d face. Dun,
dun, dun!)
As I approached Seaonia, I could see that they were restless. Soon I stood before the
gate. They asked my name.
I said, “I’m Mercury Kyester now let me in.
Chapter 2
“You must be the young adventurer here to save us.”
“That’s me obviously!”
“How can you be so cheerful in times like this!??”
“What do you mean by ‘times like this’?”
“I mean… the Oantula!”
“I think the mayor mentioned that,” I said, “is that what I have to get rid of?”
“Yes,” he said, “Now you will meet the queen.”
“Ok,” I said and off I went to meet the queen.
30 minutes later…
“Prrrreeessentingg—Mercury our savior.” I like being introduced like that. I met the
queen. She’s breathtakingly beautiful. I got a tour of Seonia. It’s almost as beautiful
as the queen. Everything’s white and sparkling. There’s an extravagant building that
looked like the Leaning Tower of Piza (minus the leaning part) I was glad it was bigger
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M A R C O YO L O !
than Joansville. People are transported with water currents. They whooshed to and
fro with there pet seals at there sides.
They all wore long flowy garments and had hair down to their hips. There are no
males in Seaonia, just girls.
After the tour and the ceremony, I went looking for the Oantula. I searched for it
for days. I saw amazing coral reefs, plants, and sea creatures.
But no Oantula. I was starting to get frustrated, when I saw something move! I
floated after it as fast as I could. It turned out to be a piece of kelp. I was so mad!
Then finally I saw the Oantula! I silently crept up to it. I grabbed my new sword
and sliced the Oantula. It roared, and lumbered over to me. It bit, I doged, it came
charging at me, I rolled. With a final slice it fell to the ground.
It I had vanquished the Oantula! I went back to Seaonia triumphant. I had ridden Seaonia of the Oantula! Everyone went crazy when they heard the news. I don’t
really have any recollection of the following days, just parties and dancing. Then I
went back to Joansville. Don’t worry though, my adventures aren’t over yet!
TATUM MCLAUGULIN
attends the Meridian School
as a fifth grader, and is a devoted member of the Cascade
Swim Club.
t!
o
J
&
p
o
t
S
UNDERCOVER
JACK NEWTON
Imagine you learn someone famous
has been secretly posing undercover as
a student or teacher at your school.
The president is at our school; I know because I
caught him disguising himself.
He is at our school because he misses being a regular kid at school. He wanted the experience again,
so he enrolled in our school.
He disguised himself as a stereotypical geek.
In order to make himself look like a kid, he used
top-secret government technology developed by
NASA to shrink down to the size of a student.
He has two bodyguards that are invisible because
they used invisibility spray, also by NASA.
His favorite class is Presidential History, because
he is the president.
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M A R C O YO L O
We’ll Rescue You, Hori!
E
N
I
L VE
ONCLUSI
Yubi Mayima
EX
Introduction
This story is about Rika and Sakura, who are sisters. Rika is 9 years old. She has a
special ability to talk and understand animals. She got this ability from Tori, the
magical flying deer when Meigi, their older sister, found Tori in their yard. Sakura
is 8 years old. She loves being in and making stuff with nature. Sakura likes the
creativity of nature and the variety of things she can find there. Sakura got this
talent because, when she was little, she always played in their yard. They live on
the island of Tomigachi. But this island is unusual. It floats on the clouds. That
means it’s always warm. The girls wear dresses with blue and white
stripes. They also wear aprons of embroidered lace. The boys wear black suits with
white ties.
Chapter 1
A Great Day
It was morning and the girls stretched and woke up. They were exceedingly happy.
“Let us go to the park,” suggested Sakura.
“That shall be great,” replied Rika. The girls quickly dressed and tended their pet
cat, Mori, and their dogs, Nori, Noki, and Noda. They washed them, air dried them,
and brushed their fur. The girls dressed the pets in tuckers and pinafores. Then the
girls went downstairs to set breakfast. Sakura went to the barn with the milk pail to
get milk from the cow, Sharina. Breakfast was blackberries with rice and milk. Then
the girls put the leashes and collars onto the pets. It was time to go!
Chapter 2
Time at the Park
The girls and pets walked to the park. The girls played ball with the pets. It was
really fun. Sometimes the pets rolled on the ground for the joy of it. The ball was
pink and purple. Then the girls rested in the shade while the pets played a game of
Volleyball. Sakura had made the net with sticks and grass. After a while of resting
in the shade, Sakura said, “Let’s make nature dolls.”
“Okay,” Rika said. Sakura helped Rika find flowers, leaves, unique looking sticks,
and grass. The dolls worked out perfectly. Then the girls made nature insects, dogs,
cats, birds, houses, and deer.
Chapter 3
Trouble
Now, the girls were very absorbed in making things. They had forgotten about
the pets playing. Meanwhile, the pets were having great fun. They had gained lots
of energy. They were kicking and pawing the ball really far. At one point they were
pawing the ball near the river. Then, when Hori tried to grab the ball it rolled into
the river, dragging Hori with it. The current was pretty strong and the water was
deep. The puppies barked nonstop. The girls and the puppies were too surprised to
move.
“Come on,” said Sakura. We need to rescue Hori.
Chapter 4
The Race Down the River
The girls held the scared puppies and ran down the river. The trouble was that
they could no longer see Hori. At one point the girls entered a deep forest. The
youngest puppy sniffed the air. It yelped. The rest of the puppies started barking
too.
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M A R C O YO L O
“The puppies sense something,” Rika said.
Then, after a minute or two, they heard a crashing of water. Rika whispered under
her breath, “Angel Falls.” Then they saw it. The beautiful graceful water fell down
like an angel. But the girls didn’t think of it as an angel. They thought of it as a beast.
If Hori had went down the waterfall she’ll be scared, hurt, wet, and quite exhausted.
Chapter 5
Angel Falls
The steep waterfall was impossible to go past on dry land.
“I know something,” Rika explained, “Lets ask Tori the magical flying deer to carry
us to the river bank.”
“But how is Tori supposed to know?” asked Sakura. The girls thought for a while.
The puppies started playing with falling leaves.
“That’s a great idea,” shouted Sakura.
“What idea?” said Rika.
“We could carve a message to Meigi on a leaf. When the north wind blows we’ll
let go of our leaf. Meigi will see it and send Tori here.” The girls did so. Two minutes
later, Tori arrived.
“Can you bring us to the riverbed, Tori?” Rika asked in animal language.
“Yes,” Tori said. Tori carried them to the riverbed safely.
“Bye-Bye Tori,” the girls shouted.
Chapter 6
A Caiman, Hori!
As the girls continued on their way the puppies started barking. Now Rika was
starting to get annoyed by their barking. Then in front of them was a long. But what
on the log? Hori! But Hori was getting chased by a caiman. The caiman was big and
brownish green. It had a long, sharp teeth and a slimy drool. The girls shouted and
stomped their feet. The surprised caiman dove down into its den again. The splashing dogs were able to make a bridge so Hori could go on dry land. The happy though
drenched cat happily cuddled against Rika.
“Angel Falls was scary!” Hori said.
“We thought so,” Rika replied.
Sakura carried the dogs and they made their way to their house. The girls swung
on branches to get over the waterfall.
Chapter 7
Yay Hori!
When they reached home, they were tired. They flopped upon the couch. After a
cat nap they washed and the girls dressed. Then they had a celebration for the income of Hori!
THE END
YUBI MAYIMA
goes to Big Picture Middle
School. He chose to write
about his father, Abdiqani,
because he was interested in
his childhood in Somalia.
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826! True!
Hollywood stories
STUDENTS USED FAMOUS PEOPLE AND EVENTS AS INSPIRATION FOR
WRITING THEIR OWN FICTIOn IN THIS MIDDLE SCHOOL SUMMER WORKSHOP.
The Energy Dilemma
Ian Hinck
Here we go again, Denzel Washington thought as he took in a quick breath, then
broke into a sprint through the streets of Seattle, pursuing the suspected representative for an evil organization that plagued the world. In a matter of seconds, he
caught up to the man and grabbed his wheelchair.
He said, sarcastically, “You are arrested for jaywalking and having the intent of
causing a car accident.”
The man replied, “But sir! There were no cars coming, and I had to get to work.”
Denzel cut him off and said, “Excuses, excuses. You’re coming with me, old man.”
A few weeks later, in the Bahamas, Denzel went to talk with his two police superiors.
As the meeting started, he proclaimed, “I quit. This is a cruel job. I mean, arresting a
disabled man trying to get to work, and honestly, guys, you can only pay me minimum wage when you live here?!”
His superiors replied, “We figured that you would say that, so we got you a new
job…as a spy for the CIA.” Later that night, Denzel rejoiced, because his lifelong
dream was to be a real spy, just like James Bond. His other lifelong dream was to
own a hippo, but then again, he was dropped on his head as a child.
Twelve days later, Denzel got a letter in a bright purple envelope that was crumpled and
had a melted wax seal that bore little resemblance to the CIA emblem it was meant
to represent. The contents of the letter consisted of a coffee-stained piece of scratch
paper with only a handwritten address. He soon realized that it was the address for
his old high school.
When he arrived, he found his old principal, Bob, who had always liked him.
Denzel blurted out, “You’re in the CIA?”
Bob replied, “Yeah, how do you think I got military-grade security cameras in the
school? Regardless though, your mission is to infiltrate the Walmart world headquarters
in the Seychelles islands.”
“Wait! Why Walmart?” Denzel interjected.
Bob replied, “Because you need to destroy their progress on the 8 Hour Alert energy supplement.”
“Why?” Denzel asked.
“Because their product will challenge 5 Hour Energy, and that would be terrible,”
Bob said. “Here are your plane tickets. Now go and stop Walmart.”
In the Seychelles Islands three days later, Denzel found a bag of gear that he assumed was for his mission. In the bag was less than he expected. It consisted simply
of a watch, a paintball gun and a pair of car keys. To make matters worse, the car
was a 1996 Toyota Camry with a broken headlight and barely any gas. The hotel was
broken down and smelly due to an infestation of rats. Denzel wondered how the
government could spend $300 billion on remodeling the White House and couldn’t
even have him stay in a decent hotel. Aside from the bad accommodations, Denzel
was happy in Seychelles. But that would all change, as he would have to start his
mission soon.
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826! True! Hollywood stories
In the dead of night on August 17, 2013, Denzel Washington quietly slipped by
a group of guards standing outside the Walmart world headquarters. He quickly
climbed up the side of the laboratory and shimmied around the window ledges
until he found an open window. In the room that he entered, he saw one guy, or
“tango” as they would have called him in the police force. After considering what to
do for a moment, Denzel quickly took the man from behind, slammed his head into
the wall and knocked him out.
Promptly, Denzel snuck through the well-lit halls and located the formula for the
8 Hour Alert energy supplement in lab A-3 on a custom-made Swiss lab table. As he
began melting the formula with a Bunsen burner, he heard a loud sound coming
from the hall. Instinctively Denzel pulled out his paintball gun, but then put it back
down, realizing that it would do practically nothing to an armed guard. Sweat began
to bead on his forehead as a tall figure appeared.
The figure was Arnold Schwarzenegger, Denzel’s greatest foe.
Arnold shouted, “Step away from the formula or I will be forced to terminate you!”
Denzel panicked. Fighting Arnold Schwarzenegger had always been his worst fear,
ever since he saw Kindergarten Cop. As painful flashbacks pulsed through Denzel’s
head, Arnold went in for his first punch. Denzel’s body flew back on impact of the
punch and he cringed on the floor. Arnold slowly walked to Denzel’s body and said
in an angry Austrian accent, “I was the one who dropped you on your head as a
child.” This sparked a surge of anger in Denzel that caused him to kick Arnold to the
ground and shoot a paintball down Arnold’s throat.
Arnold spat the paint out and gasped, “I’ll be back.”
Denzel calmly replied, “Never again buddy.”
Then he took the formula, chucked it into the ocean, and snuck away.
Back in America, Denzel was congratulated by his superiors and given free 5 Hour
Energy for life. Back at his house, there was another special gift: his very own hippo,
which he named Farid.
IAN HINCK
is an eighth grader at
Eckstein Middle School.
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ELABORATE OUTFIT
ELIAS ROJAS JR.
Describe the most elaborate outfit you
have ever seen or worn.
Well now, that’s easy. When I was in my school
play and we did Alice in Wonderland, we needed
a queen and we got a fat high schooler to do it.
He had a glitter bodysuit, and we managed to salvage a Hello Kitty Queen of the World crown.
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826! True! Hollywood stories
A Tail of Missing Puppies
Caroline Ashby
Chapter 1
Every morning, one disappeared. Snatched from their beds, when the sun just started
peeking
through the window at that house in New York, another puppy was gone.
“Get up, get up, get up!! It’s the mooorrning!” I said in a sing-songy voice. I was in a
pretty good
mood, and happily placed each bowl of food in front of the corresponding pet. One
for Angel, one for Muffin, and Puffles, and Dan, Stan, Silky, Joe Mcgardner, and me!
Or “the Crew,” as I liked to call them. I smiled, watching them all sniff at their food,
then dig in. I did the same. Dan and Stan were twins, the roughest of the bunch,
while Muffin, Silky, and Angel were quiet and calm. Joe Mcgardner was by far the
biggest and oldest. Which was funny, because my other dog, Puffles, was half as big
and old, but they were still best friends. Also, he was bright white in color and had
the fluffiest coat of fur you could find.
Suddenly, Zendaya, my best friend, walked through the door. She was still in her pajamas and was intently staring at her phone. She looked unnaturally uncomfortable
as she sat down at the table where I was eating.
“Um, Ashley, look at all of this stuff.” She pointed her phone towards me and
showed me a
website called Puppy Theft in NYC. “Ever since you quit acting, this weird lady has
been trying to steal your pets.” She looked closer at her phone. “I guess she’s a fan of
yours and she was jealous.”
“What?!” I replied. “I thought if she was a fan, she wouldn’t steal my stuff. Especially something so important!”
Zendaya shrugged and added one more thing,
“Oh, and Ash? She’s planning on stealing one tonight.”
Chapter 2
People were pretty surprised when I told them I would be focusing on caring for
my pets and quitting my acting job, but I knew it was the right thing to do. It was
pretty scary, though, because whenever I exited my house, there would be a group
of angry people waiting to yell at me.
I walked down the street, the Crew trailing behind me. I nervously bit my lip and
tried to ignore the angry reporters that I knew would be there; they seemed to be
glaring at me with a look of disgust.
“What do you plan to do now? How will you earn money? Are you threatened by
anyone now
that you quit? What about…YOUR LITTLE PUPPIES?” Reporters shot glances at me
and stuffed
microphones in my face.
Bursting through the crowd, I ran home, wiping a couple of tears from my face.
The Crew
whimpered when I slammed the door shut.
“Zendaya! What’s happening?!” I sniffed.
“I don’t know, really. But get to sleep. It’s almost eleven thirty p.m.,” she replied
carelessly. “Go
to bed.”
Chapter 3
I woke up to the sound of cars racing across the streets. I was just getting up when
I noticed
something was wrong.
“Dan? Stan?” I muttered nervously, holding back my fright. They were gone.
The next three days were some of the worst I had ever experienced in my life. Dan
and Stan were gone. Along with Puffles, Joe Mcgardner, and Muffin. Silky and Angel were the only ones left. That’s when I set to work to get them back.
“Z, we need to do something about this. I’m just whipping ideas out of my head, but
maybe we could work with a plane somehow? Track ‘em? Or, you know what, actually we could SEND some people out in disguise, y’know, so then…”
Zendaya cut me off abruptly.
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826! True! Hollywood stories
“Geez, Ash! I got you covered. Meet me in front of your house at midnight. I’ll tell
you the plan from there.” Without even saying goodbye, she trotted out the front
door.
Chapter 4
I crept out onto the sidewalk and shivered as the wind blew across my back. It was
an eerie night, with the moon shining and the roar of thunder. I could smell the rain
pouring down and stepped in the opposite direction. Turning around, I bumped into
a shadowy figure.
“What the—?” I gasped.
“Ashley, it’s just me.” I heard in a familiar voice. When I didn’t respond, she added
“Zendaya.”
“Oh, hey,” I murmured back. I stuffed my hands in my coat pockets and shivered.
“So…what’s the plan?”
“Well, this is where it all starts…” She went on, describing how she could track the
fan that was
stealing the puppies and find where she was hiding them. Then, with a little bit of
teamwork, we could drive down to the house and get them back.
“So, basically a combination of what I said?” I accused after she finished.
“Yup. Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s get going.”
Chapter 5
Getting to the house took about two days. It was going to take about two hours, but
Zendaya didn’t fill up the gas tank and we ran out. It was an unprofessional move
on her part.
The house was more of a cottage, really. It looked old and worn-down, with a rustic
old weathervane perched on top. There was a stone path leading to the front steps.
Daisies and other wildflowers coated the lawn and a weird smell, a bit like burnt
toast or coffee, was coming from the inside of the cottage. It was the opposite of what
I had imagined.
To be honest, I had imagined a scary-looking mansion with animal heads plastered on the walls. But I stood corrected.
I quietly wandered into the house, Zendaya traveling close behind me. I looked
around to find a big wooden staircase in front of me. I tiptoed up only to hear a joyous sound. The sound of Puffles, Dan, Stan, and Joe Mcgardner, all barking together!
Until now, I would have plugged my ears and given them food so they would stop.
But not today. I turned to Z and smiled the biggest smile ever.
“Do you hear that?! It’s all of ‘em, my sweet, sweet, puppies! Woo-hoooo!”
Zendaya cringed. “Uh-oh,” was all she said before I heard the menacing sound of
feet stomping up the stairs.
Chapter 6
“Who is there? I’m standin’ right here; come on out and fight like a real man,” a
voice said. It was a lady for sure, but she sounded pretty old for a fan, maybe thirty
five or forty. I dodged to the side and hid between two bookshelves. I wasn’t exactly
sure where Z had hidden, but I couldn’t go out there.
“Come on out! Seriously!” the voice yelled, sounding annoyed. I ignored her,
though I was
more frightened than you could even imagine, and quickly crept into the room
where I heard the dog noises. Not to my surprise, each one of them was there, each
cooped up in a cage of their own. The cages seemed to be trashed and were a mere
two feet by two feet in size. I quickly opened up the cage doors and embraced the
dogs, hugging them tightly.
“Well, if you’re not gonna come on out, like I politely asked, then I will come to
you,” said the
voice. I heard footsteps getting louder and louder. I knew I was a goner.
“Ash!” I heard the most relieving thing ever, not including the puppies. “It’s me!
Come on up
and take the Crew with you!”
I looked up; Zendaya had opened a window that was oddly on the ceiling, and
was hovering
above with a helicopter. I smiled and grabbed onto a low-hanging rope that dangled
through the window. I got on the helicopter, grabbing the Crew behind me.
Epilogue (Two Months Later)
“Ash ,we need some more dog food, ” Zendaya said. She picked up the newborn
puppies Joey, Mango, Iceberg, and Moe and set them down in front of the big bowl.
“Okay. I’ll get some right now.”
CAROLINE ASHBY
is a sixth grader at Washington Middle School. She wrote
this piece as part of her second
workshop at 826 Seattle.
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PRO-DWARF PLANET
Pluto never should have been a planet. If we determine that Pluto is a planet, then we cannot determine how many more trans-Neptunian objects are
planets. For example, when Eris, a trans-Neptunian
object, was discovered, we determined its behavior
very similar to Pluto’s. So, if Pluto becomes a planet,
there’s no reason for Eris not to be a planet. Pluto being a planet without other trans-Neptunian objects
not being planets would completely distort the definition of planet.
Technology has evolved, and so some things no
longer make sense to keep. Some of the best scientists
from all over the world have come together to create
an updated definition for planets.
We’re not anti-Pluto; we’re pro-science.
Pluto is a planet because it has moons, it orbits the sun,
and it has an atmosphere just like the other planets. It
has a greater mass than any asteroid and it’s a sphere
shape.
The difference between Pluto and the other planets
is that Pluto is smaller than the rest of the planets and
has an elliptical orbit.
Pluto is not considered a planet because of the
IAU’s definition, but the IAU’s definition did not
say that a planet’s orbit had to be circular.
PRO-PLANET
N
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Pluto is not a true planet because it does not clear its neighborhood. Pluto is in the Kuiper Belt where lots of objects are not
affected by Pluto’s gravity. In order for it to clear its neighborhood, it must destroy or kick out the Kuiper Belt objects (also
known as debris or asteroids), which it does not do.
Also, it is a fact that if you take three of the biggest objects of
the Kuiper Belt and combine them, they would have a greater
mass than Pluto. But if you take all the asteroids around Earth
and combine them, their mass is less than the mass of Earth.
Pluto is simply too small to be considered a classical planet. In
conclusion, we love Pluto as a dwarf planet.
Neptune has enough gravity to throw Pluto off orbit, therefore giving it an elliptical orbit. Pluto does not have enough
gravity to do the same to the other Kuiper Belt objects or Neptune. Pluto being a planet would distort our understanding
of a planet. If we made Pluto a planet, we would have
to make Eris and all the other things in the Kuiper belt
planets.
PRO-DWARF PLANET
OUT LI N E A N D P R O OF
Q PA R TI TI O & C O NFIR MA TI O R
U
Pluto is our future because it is a mystery
and we need to make people believe and figure out a way. If we say Pluto is not a planet,
then nobody would learn about it and nobody would go there. Science is all about discovering new things and going new places
isn’t it? Let’s not push Pluto to the side.
The IAU stands for International Astronomical Union. They say that Pluto is not a
planet.
They say this, but they are wrong!
PRO-PLANET
I N T R O D U C T I O N A N D S TAT E M E N T O F FA C T S
Q E X O R D I UM & NA R R A TI O R
T H E G R E AT D E B AT E
PLUTO PROTEST 2013
IN THIS WORKSHOP THAT GREW OUT OF OUR ANNUAL PLUTO-IS-A-PLANET MARCH AND RALLY, STUDENTS LEARNED THE PROCESS OF CONSTRUCTING AND DELIVERING A CLASSICAL DEBATE WHILE
ARGUING THE STATUS OF PLUTO AS A PLANET OR A DWARF PLANET.
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T H E L A S T WO R D
A GRAVE INJUSTICE has occurred! We, the concerned astronomers, interstellar travelers, earth-bound astrophysicists, unite and demand that Pluto be reinstated to the planetary pantheon. Pluto is more than just a hunk of rock, floating forlornly in space – it is the
representation of all that is special and unique in the universe. Pluto has always been a planet of the people; it was discovered by an under-educated farm-boy through tenacity and hard work and it was named by an imaginative and thoughtful 11-year-old girl. Pluto has
never been the domain of the scientific elite. Despite the apparent “victory” in this year’s debate, Pluto’s significance to our collective
imagination remains. In astrology, Pluto is an important transformative agent and revealer of secrets. In modern space exploration,
Pluto defines the final frontier of our celestial neighborhood. To the populist, it is a symbol of the importance of the ordinary man; and
to all, Pluto embodies the mystery and wonder of the cosmos. Demoting Pluto and removing it from the planetary pantheon is a grave
injustice that must be rectified.
J U S T I N A L L A N- S P E N C E R , M A S T E R O F P LU T O - O R I E N T E D C E R E M O N I E S
826 Seattle refuses to refer to Pluto as anything but what it is — the ninth and final planet in our solar system.
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So, the location of Pluto makes it so that it is unable
to clear its neighborhood. If Pluto does not fit the
definition of a planet, then Pluto is not a planet
and should never have been a planet.
As for Mercury, earlier I heard, “Oh, well, Pluto
has moons. Mercury does not have moons.” We
are not discussing moons.
Neptune cleared Pluto a very long time ago,
which is why Pluto has such an elliptical orbit.
We are not saying that because Pluto has an
elliptical orbit that it is not a planet. Pluto is not a
planet because Pluto does not clear its neighborhood.
Pluto is a dwarf planet. It will get its recognition:
it will be the star of the dwarf planet group.
We’re not trying to get rid of Pluto, we’re just
giving it a new title.
PRO-DWARF PLANET
TEAM PRO-DWARF PLANET: KEVIN HUYNH, YASIN ALI-HALANE, IBREEZ ESMAIL, MAGGIE HALL
TEAM PRO-PLANET: ABRHAM WOLDEMICAEL, JACK THAI, NAZRAWIT DESSIE, DANTE TREJO-SAVANI, SAMANTHA WICK
We listened to the facts that both sides presented. We payed attention to the persuasiveness of the arguments on
both sides, and the credibility of the arguments that each side made in favor of their respective positions. We assigned point values to each of those, which we then summarized and then compared. When all our three judges
compared, we discovered that we had awarded one side one point more. It was very close, but there was clearly
a one point winner.
That was the side that said that Pluto is a dwarf planet.
T H E J U D GE S
Q THE D E C ISI O NR
According to the IAU definition, a planet should
“clear its neighborhood.” This is quite vague. We don’t
know if they mean ALL objects should be cleared. If
Earth were in Pluto’s neighborhood, it wouldn’t be
able to clear its neighborhood of debris.
The evidence used to demote Pluto is insufficient.
The IAU definition isn’t specific enough to prove a
valid point. If the IAU definition were to be applied
under the assumption that it means all objects in the
neighborhood, then Earth, Neptune, Jupiter, and
Mars, as well as Pluto, wouldn’t be planets.
Therefore, please reconsider what defines a
planet, both in your mind, and the minds of
those around you.
PRO-PLANET
R E F U TAT I O N A N D S U M M A RY
Q R E F U TA TI O & PA R O R A TI O R
W H E R E T H E W I L D T H I N G S G R OW
A SUMMER TOUR OF THE VOLUNTEER PARK CONSERVATORY
GAVE STUDENTS THE INSIGHT AND INSPIRATION
TO CREATE STORIES ABOUT PLANTS AND FLOWERS.
The Evil Fly Trap
Thane Dahlgaard
One cloudy day in Seattle, a little Venus Fly Trap named V.F.T. was chomping some
flies in his apartment.
Hmm, if I grew bigger, then I could eat cars, and there must be tons of flies in
them, he thought. And if I grow even bigger, then I could eat the Space Needle,
and there must be even MORE flies in there!
V.F.T. had been bought by Larry. He was first found by a store named Nuclear
Plants. What they do to plants is they make them nuclear. And after that happens,
they put them on sale. Larry came along and bought the Venus Fly Trap. One of
the store people told him to be careful because some of the old plants were blood
suckers. Larry didn’t really pay attention to details, and he didn’t know that nuclear meant alive, and that the plant could think on its own. And the store person also
said that when it thinks, be very careful; it could do what it wants if it thinks hard
enough.
So V.F.T. grew bigger and bigger; every six seconds he grew two inches. His roots
turned into legs and he went downstairs and out the door. He walked toward the
Seattle Center, still eating flies and growing as he walked. When he got there, he
was one-and-a-half feet taller than the Space Needle.
All the humans around him were very mad because all their cars (and a few children) were gone because V.F.T. had eaten them too.
The humans gathered around, trying to spray him with poisonous plant spray
from spray cans.
“Quit eating our children and our cars!” the people yelled. “They cost about six
grand! And the children cost $165!”
“Sorry, I didn’t know,” said V.F.T. “I don’t even know what children or cars are!
They just had lots of flies on them.” With that, V.F.T. bit the top of the Space Needle
off.
“They have dust on themselves! Not flies, dust!! So quit eating our children and
cars! And don’t bite off the new Space Needle that’s going to be put up in five
months because of you,” the people yelled. Unfortunately, there were 275 people
in it at the time. V.F.T. swallowed the top of the Space Needle whole.
Fortunately, there was a botanist in the top of the Space Needle who had plant
spray. He knew to release the spray right when they were in V.F.T.’s throat, right
at the back of his neck. He released the spray, and killed V.F.T! That’s when V.F.T
thought, I totally regret this. They were all freed from the Space Needle, and everybody celebrated.
But one day, another plant grew…
THANE DAHLGAARD
is a homeschooled and
in third grade. He lives in
Bothell.
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where the wild things grow
Orchid Adventure
Jessica Darlington
“Hey, everyone! I found a new species of orchid!” the new botanist yelled. “It is somewhere in the Amazon. I must go there and find it and bring it back!”
“Be quiet,” yelled the other botanist. “You go back to your magic fantasy land so we
can get to work.” The new botanist’s name was Mark Dawn and he was very smart.
He was going to find that orchid, and in one day he was going to the Amazon to
bring it back.
That night, Mark gathered all his information, pictures and files about his new
orchid. After packing his suitcase, Mark clicked “Buy ticket to the Amazon,” on his
computer. Three minutes later, he was fast asleep. The next morning, he ate breakfast, hailed a taxi and was on his way to the airport.
After an exhausting eighteen hours on a plane, Mark was in the Amazon looking
for his orchid. The first day of looking for his orchid, all he got was twenty-three mosquito bites. That night Mark camped out with a tribe that lived in the jungle. They
put aloe on his bug bites, and in the morning they were all better.
Then he went even deeper into the jungle, finding orchids related to the one he
was tracking. The jungle was humid and Mark was getting tired, but he kept going
and found a huge tree with beautiful orchids. From where Mark was, he couldn’t tell
if the orchids were his. So he threw a rope over a branch and climbed up. Yes, they
were Mark’s orchids—bright orange with pink speckles. He pulled out one of the
flowers and climbed down.
Mark was so happy to have tracked down th new species of orchid. When he got
back to the botanist lab, he showed off his orchid, which was called the Dawn Orchid. The botanists never doubted Mark again.
JESSICA DARLINGTON
is a mainstay at 826 Seattle’s
After-School Tutoring program, and is in sixth grade at
Salmon Bay School. She also
plays volleyball.
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BRUCE THE RHINO, HERO
NEBEYAT DESSIE
Imagine you pass by a newspaper stand
and see a headline that says the president
has declared a rhino named Bruce a national hero. Write the article explaining
why.
Bruce, the rhino, has been recognized for his
groundbreaking work on brokering a lasting
peace deal between Israel and Palestine.
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where the wild things grow
Nyla Donkey
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Kate Jacobs
My name is Nyla Donky, and I am 9 years old. My mom, my dad, and my brother are
all afraid of dogs but I have a dog named Vine. I live in a jungle called Mah, but the
village in the jungle is called Maha.
One night at bedtime, I said “Goodnight Mom,” as Mom left the room. My mom
was saying goodnight back, when there was a loud bang and somebody growled,
not Vine but somebody. I ran to my window to see what happened but I only saw
two silhouettes hurrying away.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of cheering. I wondered if there was an
event that I had forgotten about. Then I realized that the grocery store was opening
up! The people we call seekers, who go and get food from other places, had brought
enough food back that we can have a modern grocery store like the ones the seekers
have seen in the places they’ve visited. I jumped out of bed and ran to my dresser to
grab my leaf dress. I wear leaf clothes like the rest of my village. I brushed my hair,
slipped on my shoes and ran out the door to see what a grocery store looked like.
As I hurried through town to see the grocery store, I felt as if I was being followed… I turned around and saw two men who I had never seen before! One had a beard
and the other had glasses. It took me a minute to realize that the two men were not
wearing leaf clothes! I had never seen anybody not wearing leaf clothes so I knew
they were from somewhere else. I didn’t even know what their clothes were called! I
was so surprised that they weren’t wearing leaf clothes that I turned and ran toward
the crowd in front of the grocery store. As the grocery store was revealed to the crowd
from under the vines that were covering it, I noticed that the same two men dashed
through the front door and were now holding an anthurium--The prettiest and most
precious flower in the jungle being held by two men not wearing leaf clothes! I knew that nobody was allowed to pick up the flower or even touch it so they
must be up to no good! Unfortunately nobody had seen them in the whole entire
crowd! I whistled for Vine and he came running. We took off toward the crowd,
ducking under people’s legs and running around babies until we got to the front of
the crowd. I told Vine the plan like we were superheroes and dashed into the grocery store. I startled the men so badly that they jumped and dropped the plant. I was
holding two pairs of handcuffs made of vines, because I love to play crime fighter
with my friends. So I slipped one over the man with glasses, who had been holding
the plant, but the bearded man started throwing cereal boxes at me! Again, I whistled for Vine and he came running. Then, he picked up the plant and threw it at the
bearded man, who wouldn’t let me handcuff him. It bonked him on the head and
he fell backwards. I heard a tiny crash and I looked over at the floor where the plant
had landed and amazingly not broken. I quickly handcuffed him and attached him
and the guy with glasses to vine’s collar. I whispered “Vine, take these two to jail and I’ll meet you there.” I scooped up the plant and wrote a note for the mayor of Maha.
This is what it said:
Dear Mayor,
Two bad guys have stolen an anthurium and are now in jail.
Yours sincerely,
Nyla
I rushed to the mayor’s office and slipped it under his door, then ran to the jail. I
entered slowly but sped up when I saw the same men in a jail room talking to the
lead jail guy. I knew I wasn’t allowed to get closer but I just had to hear their conversation. I stepped forward but it was no use, so I turned around and Vine came
running out of nowhere! Just then outside a huge crowd of people led by the mayor
started chanting “Nyla! Nyla!” The mayor gave me a gold necklace made in England
and congratulated me. That was the best day ever!
KATE JACOBS
is in third grade at Wilder
Elementary School. She’s particpated in a number of
workshops at 826 Seattle.
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Crustacean Chronicles
STUDENTS USED CLASSIC LITERATURE about the sea AND A TRIP
TO THE PUGET SOUND shore tide pools
TO INSPIRE THEIR WRITINGS IN THIS WORKSHOP.
The Crab (Lunch)
Savannah Truluck
The crab scuffles across the ocean floor, creeping...
to attack a flounder
swimming by.
Dashing quickly to another
clump of kelp.
Something moves nearby.
Just a hermit crab.
The unwary flounder
shelters in the sand,
as the crab attempts
to grab it once more.
He creeps closer,
slowly, slowly,
claws outstretched,
ready to attack.
Inches away,
almost touching...
ZOOM!
The flounder zips away.
The crab,
resigned to the worst,
creeps off
to find lunch elsewhere.
SAVANNAH TRULUCK
is in eighth grade. She would
like to be remembered for her
love of birds, her bandana, and
how she makes tight friendships.
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C R U S C TAC E A N C H R O N I C L E S
Buried Alive
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Kevin Huynh
Joe woke up, not remembering anything. Opening his eyes, he saw a whole bunch of
nothingness. There was also a whole lot of pain in his body. Being crushed by the
weight of what felt to him like sand, he pushed back with all his might. He felt the
sand shift a bit, giving him some hope. With his last bit of strength, Joe thrusted his
right hand upward. Now he no longer felt the weight of sand around his hand, but
some kind of slimy substance. Then he heard something he made out as a scream.
Hannah didn’t know much about zombies, only from the movies. She really
thought the zombie stuff was for weirdoes. Her thoughts were mostly directed towards purses and dresses and makeup; important things, like the prom that was just
a few weeks away. She was lying on the beach, relaxed, trying to get the perfect tan.
So when the dead jellyfish in front of her, yellow on top and clear everywhere else,
rose from the ground, she panicked.
Having no clue what to do and no weapon around, she screamed and screamed for
what seemed like minutes. A lifeguard finally ran over to see what the problem was.
He wasn’t much help either; he just stared. Then, when Hannah finally shot him a
glare, he used his surfboard to poke the jellyfish. It flopped over to the side and she
could tell that it was most definitely dead. Hannah let out a sigh.
Zombie jellyfish were kind of absurd.
Looking back to where the jellyfish rose off the ground, she saw a sandy, bloody
hand. It clawed around, desperate to find something to grab. The lifeguard fainted.
Hannah, on the other hand, screamed and screamed, louder than she ever had before. She was convinced that the zombie outbreak had begun!
KEVIN HUNYH
is a student at Washington
MS. He likes to do anything
that fits his definition of fun.
Kevin is still considering all
his option for his future careers when he grows up. His
spirit animal is a snake.
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T H I S R E A L LY H A P P E N E D
FOR THIS IN-SCHOOLS PROJECT AT BIG PICTURE MIDDLE SCHOOL,
STUDENTS INTERVIEWED IMPORANT PEOPLE CLOSE TO THEM AND
WROTE NARRATIVES ABOUT THEIR LIVES.
Abdiqani’s Life
Abdulahi Abdi
Somalia—what a hot place. It is over ninety degrees there every day and it is hometo many deadly creatures like the black mamba, a really deadly and poisonous
snake; the lion, a fierce predator; and the hyena, a thief and a coward. If you go
to the savannah in Somalia, it is very likely that a lion will chase you. One day
that happened to Abdiqani, an active, strong boy who had a lot of energy. He was
playing in the savannah one afternoon when he heard a roar. He quickly turned
around and ten feet away, staring at him, was the biggest lion he
had ever seen.
Abdiqani always saw lions, but not one like this. Its teeth were huge—the size of
your index finger—and drool dripped out of its gaping wide mouth. Its long, thick
mane made it look tough. Its claws were sharp enough to cut through a ten-foot
wall of titanium.
Abdiqani thought, it’s over. Then he ran. The lion roared and chased after him.
Abdiqani was running like crazy, zigzagging everywhere. His heart was beating
with the speed of a cheetah. He had no weapons to protect himself.
Then he saw a big tree and he climbed it. The lion curled up under the tree’s shadow, waiting patiently. After several minutes the lion noticed a gazelle grazing in
the field nearby. It stayed low while creeping toward the gazelle. Suddenly the
gazelle noticed the lion and ran. The lion chased after it.
As soon as the lion ran away, Abdiqani climbed down the tree, ran back to his
village and told his friend what had happened.
His friend laughed and said, “Wow, Abdiqani, you have a wild mind!”
Abdiqani said, “It is true, I did get chased by a lion, the biggest one I have ever
seen.”
His friend said, “Yeah, whatever, keep lying. Oh, and don’t forget we have to go to
visit our relatives in the city on the other side of the savannah in a few days.”
So the next week, Abdiqani and his friend left the city in the morning and they
walked for a while. It was a day’s walk. They had been before, but it was their first
time going alone. The savannah was really big. Soon the clouds had an orange
glow as the sun was about to set. They realized they were lost.
Abdiqani said, “We should camp out. I’m really tired.”
His friend replied, “No we should keep going, then camp when we find out
where the
city is.”
So they kept on walking. Eventually they were under a clear dark sky. Then they
finally laid down their blankets. Just as they were about to fall asleep, the sound of
evil laughter from behind them woke them up. They turned and saw what looked
like four dogs staring at them. They heard the evil laughter again.
“What is that?” Abdiqani’s friend said.
“Dogs don’t laugh. Hyenas do.” said Abdiqani.
“I’ll hold them off, you run!” said his friend. He began throwing rocks while Abdiqani ran. Abdiqani picked up rocks on the way, and when his friend was out, he
threw rocks while his friend ran. It went on like that for ten minutes until a man
camping nearby heard the commotion and came with a gun. He shot and killed
one of the hyenas. The others hyenas got smart and ran away.
The man asked, “What are you kids doing here in the middle of the night?”
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“We were going to the city but the hyenas came and tried to attack us before we
went to sleep,” his friend replied.
The man asked, “Need a lift to the city? I am going there right now.”
They said yes so the man gave them a lift in his Jeep. He took them to Abdiqani’s
relatives’ hut in the city. His relatives were surprised to see him in the middle of the
night.
They were shocked to hear what had happened, and happy the boys were safe.
This all happened to my dad before he came to the United States. This story shows
that Abdiqani was a brave young man who cares about his friends and family, and
he still does.
ABDULAHI ABDI
goes to Big Picture Middle
School. He chose to write
about his father, Abdiqani,
because he was interested in
his childhood in Somalia.
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T H I S R E A L LY H A P P E N E D
From Bad to Good
Jose Bailon
When Phil was twelve, his parents split up, and he lost trust for adults. He felt like
there was no one there to talk to. The next year, he and his friends started getting in
trouble.
Some of his friends got arrested. He started skipping school, stopped playing
sports, got failing grades, and didn’t care about school. He started drinking, doing
drugs, sneaking out of the house, and hanging out with people that his family
didn’t want him to hang out with.
Of this group of kids, only one of them ended up graduating from high school.
The rest of them were drug addicts and alcoholics.
At the end of his sophomore year of high school, his dad sat him down for a talk.
“Phil,” said his father. “I’m sending you to Outward Bound for three weeks this
summer.”
Phil said, “What’s that?”
“It’s a wilderness camp in Oregon. You will go hiking, white-water rafting, all
those outdoor things you love.” ”That sounds awesome!” said Phil. He thought it was a good thing.
On his first day, Phil met the other kids who had come from all over the country.
“What are you in for?” they asked him, like they say in prison movies.
“What do you mean?” said Phil, confused.
“What did you do? Why did you get sent here? Drugs? Drinking?” one kid asked
him.
Just then, Phil realized that all of the kids had been sent to Outward Bound because their parents thought they were troublemakers.
So my parents think I’m a bad kid, thought
Phil. And as he thought about that over the next three weeks, he lost even more
trust in his
parents.
He lost trust in his dad especially. He always preferred talking to his dad about
his problems, but he didn’t realize being honest would make his dad think he was
bad. He always wanted to be successful, but he just had problems.
At Outward Bound, though, Phil was a leader. He got to pick where they would
go hiking, or which mountains to explore. He got a lot of feedback. People told him
he was a people person. From guiding other students, he learned to be a teacher.
He also learned that he had good patience and that he had good skills to lead others.
Every kid needs an adult whom they can trust and who will be there for their
life. So later, Phil decided to become the kind of adult that kids can trust. As a math
teacher, Phil wants to help students who are struggling or misbehaving. He really
wants to reach them and talk to them and also support them. That’s how he ended
up at Big Picture Middle School. To me, Phil is a caring guy. He solved a lot of his
problems. At Big Picture, he helps kids solve problems. Phil is a guy who can be
there for anybody. I trust him.
JOSE BAILON
attends Big Picture Middle
School, and chose to write
about Phil because he is a
good person to be looked
up to as a leader.
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T H I S R E A L LY H A P P E N E D
The Supply Truck
Alex Heindel
Ray Dyson’s face stung and was red like a rose after his wife took her hand to him.
Looking through his picture album from her trip to visit him in Fort Knox, Kentucky before he left for the war, she found a photo of an unknown lady.
***
Six years before, Ray Dyson had graduated high school in the Seattle area but
couldn’t find a permanent job because the Great Depression had started. He went
around doing odd jobs like working at his uncle’s bakery and building bridges on
Mount Rainier. When he was twenty-four, he got married to Jean, who was nineteen and from
Canada. They hadn’t been married for very long when Ray was drafted into World
War II in 1943.
“Ray you can’t go to war. We’re having a kid soon!” Jean said when she heard the
news.
“It’s not my choice. I would stay if I could,” he said.
Ray went to Fort Lewis for basic training and then was shipped to Fort Knox for
advanced training in truck driving. During that time, Jean came to visit him because they knew that their child would be born while he was gone.
Ray went to Germany in 1944 so he could drive supply trucks to all the bases. He
and all the other truck drivers were popular because they had everything that the
people wanted. He had the food, the booze, and the entertainment. It was a good
job to have in the war because he wasn’t ever in much real danger and people
were happy to see him.
The other soldiers liked to party with him. He liked to party with them. He liked
to be popular. It made him feel like a new product that everybody was waiting for.
One time, somebody had a camera at the base and took a picture of a girl in his lap
and gave it to him.
He spent another year in the military and when the war finally ended, he went
home. He had been to Germany and Austria driving trucks and had a good time
doing it.
When he came home, it was the first time he met his baby, Linda.
Back in Des Moines, Washington, he was able to find a stable job making paper
pamphlets, advertisements, and binding together the new TV Guides. After living
for three years with a bunch of young men, trying to have a good time in a depressing, dangerous place, it was a big change to become someone who was responsible
for keeping his family afloat in a small, friendly community.
One day, not too long after coming back, Ray was looking through his memorabilia from the war. The picture of a lady sitting in his lap during the war was loose
and fell out of the album. Jean was mad, and she didn’t know what else to do, so
she lashed out. Ray had been gone for so long, and Jean didn’t have anyone to be
with. She’d been taking care of a baby by herself, waiting for her husband to come
back, while Ray had friends and people to be with. Ray hadn’t thought anything
about the girl as it happened, because he had always loved Jean, and thought that
was what mattered. That’s what he told her.
They ended up having three kids, and they stayed married for the rest of their
lives. They lived into their early nineties and died a fewyears apart.
Even though they had some hard times, their lives were very fulfilling and they
made a great team. Even the picture that Jean found in a way made their relationship stronger. The difficulties produced an unbreakable bond.
ALEX HEINDEL
chose to write about his
great-grandfather because
he didn’t know very much
about him and wanted to
find out more.
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CoCo’s Car House
Jennaka Taton
When Jeanette moved in with her mom, there was a huge problem. Her mom, Jane, did
not have a big, fancy home or an apartment. Jane lived out of her 1969 Chevy Bel
Air. So that meant Jeanette had to live in the car with her mom. Jeanette was the
oldest of three kids.
Her parents had divorced when she was nine years old. She only lived with her
dad for three months, then she decided to leave to live with her mom.
At first, Jeanette was super-scared to live out of a car. But things at home with her
dad were much worse. So she packed up a brown paper bag with her little clothes
and one toy, a small stuffed panda bear named Coco.
Every morning, Jeanette would brush her teeth in a sink at a gas station, and
have a snack from the nearest 7-Eleven. Then Jane would drop her off at school.
Only then would Jeanette see her brother and sister. They would cry and cry because they missed Jeanette at home and they were kind of jealous that she lived
with their mom. But they had no idea it was out of a car.
As time went on, Jane and Jeanette would stop at different friends’ homes to eat
or shower. Then at night, they would sleep at a local church parking lot. Jeanette
said these were really tough days, but really happy days, too. It gave Jeanette a
chance to really get to know her mom. There were a lot of times they would laugh
and pretend they were undercover FBI agents or world travelers. Sometimes they
would be scared, and it would be over a cat jumping on the car. They would just
laugh and laugh because they were chicken FBI agents. Jeanette never missed a
day of school and always finished all of her homework. Jeanette said it was nice to
finally be the only kid for a while.
Jeanette’s dad never knew she lived out of a car with her mom. In fact, not one
family member had a clue, except for the few friends that knew.
One day, Jane dropped Jeanette off at school and went to work. While she was at
work, someone broke into the car and stole Jeanette’s only toy, Coco. Jane was so
upset when she saw what had happened, and she could not even imagine how
Jeanette would feel. She was filled with sympathy for her daughter.
That day after school, Jeanette jumped in the car and knew something was
wrong. Jeanette could not breathe.
“Mom, something’s wrong,” she said.
“I know. Someone broke into our car,” Jane said.
“How did they get in? The windows don’t look broken,” Jeanette said, processing
the news.
“No broken windows, but they did take some money. And Jeanette—they also
took Coco,” she said, putting a gentle hand on her leg.
Jeanette cried and cried for days. This may have been nothing for some kids, but
it did affect Jeanette’s childhood. She became very guarded over her things and
hardly shared.
Jeanette learned many lessons from this story—never leave your prized personal
things unguarded; learn to share, even if you really do not want to.
Jeanette says do not be sad about this story, because even though she lived almost
one year in that car, it was the most awesome year. Being with her mother and really getting to know her helped them both become a tighter family, and they knew
that bond could never be broken. It has helped Jeanette relate to others when hard
times come up.
Epilogue
The most memorable part of this story happens many years later. Jeanette went
to college and had to do a timeline of a small part of her life. In this timeline was
this very same story.
Jeanette received an A on that report and was approached by a publishing company to write about it. Jeanette was truly flattered, but declined the offer. She
explained that sometimes it’s best to keep some stories to yourself. Except for now.
JENNAKA TATON
is the daughter of Jeanette,
the main character in her
story. Jeanette and Jennaka
have a great relationship.
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Vietnam and Letters
Devin Otto
It was a dark night in Vietnam. The sound of crickets and birds was ringing all
around Cecil and his fellow soldiers at their base. It was bizarrely chilly. He felt
nervous—a heavy feeling in his stomach like a rock had settled at the bottom of it.
Suddenly, the earth jerked underneath him.
“What was that?” someone screamed, ripped out of his sleep.
“I think we’re being bombed!” Another soldier yelled, pulling on his clothes.
“It could be anything!” said Cecil, still uncertain as to what was going on.
Again, another blast came, quickly and violently waking them up.
Cecil Adams, a communicator, began to grab soldiers and pull them out of their
bunk beds.
“Quick, we gotta’ get out,” Cecil yelled, grabbing a man by the shirt, and pushing
him away.
One by one, he pulled men out of their beds and onto the floor. They tossed on
whatever they needed that could protect them from the cold, as the bombs went
off around them.
At last, everyone was out, now Cecil could leave.
“I need to get o…” he said, but he was suddenly hit in the leg by a piece of exploding debris. His leg was bleeding, but he pulled the metal out and continued running.
“I’m almost there…” he said. When he got to the place where they all were, he
passed out in the grass.
***
Eighteen years earlier, Cecil Adams had been born in a small town in Louisiana
just outside of New Orleans. His father was and Italian immigrant, and his mother
was Native American. His father had moved to American at a young age to join
the Civilian Conservation Corp. He got a job building a national park in the Southwest. There, he met Cecil’s mother, and they moved to Louisiana.
Cecil was an only child. He lived a rather ordinary life. Growing up, he had a passion for marine biology. When he was eighteen, just out of high school he decided
to join the Army, feeling like it was his duty. The Vietnam War was underway. He
was assigned to communications and learned Morse code.
In Vietnam, everyone you saw was against you. It was very difficult to trust
people. Cecil was constantly targeted because if the enemy got rid of the communications line, there would be no way for assistance to come. Each time though, Cecil
managed to come out alive.
But one day, the blast got him. It was a rough ride. Cecil was sent to a hospital
far away from his unit. He was in and out of consciousness for a week. One day,
while he was healing in the hospital, a letter was delivered to him from somewhere in Pennsylvania. At first, he didn’t know who it was from. But after reading
it through, he got a pretty good idea of the writer. Her name was Cynthia Fanning,
though she asked him to refer to her as Cindy. She was Irish, and called herself
kind of a hippie.
Apparently in her town hall, there was a flyer up for people to send letters to
wounded soldiers in Vietnam, and she felt that she needed to send the letter. Something in Cecil switched on at that moment, and he quickly wrote up a response
letter to her, and had it sent.
A week later, another letter came back to Cecil, and he wrote back to her again. It
continued, on and on, and before he knew it, Cupid had hit him with a machine
gun. Once Cecil had healed up though, he needed to go back to the fight. Cecil
was more afraid to go back then. He knew there was a chance he would die, and
he didn’t want to leave Cindy alone. There were months where Cecil and Cindy
couldn’t contact each other. It was a long time before they were united.
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Eventually though, the war ended. Cecil survived, and came home to Cindy
with a Purple Heart. They got married in Pennsylvania, and their lives were
happy. They had a son, named Shawn. And five years later, they had Samantha.
Their lives changed when they moved from Pennsylvania to Arkansas. Cecil
took a job at a construction company, and Cindy taught blind and deaf children.
They raised their kids there until eventually, Sam and Shawn moved away.
Shawn moved to India with his wife Sonal, and Sam moved to Seattle with her
boyfriend. Erick.
In 1999, something tragic happened. Cindy died. Cecil was heartbroken. Several months after Cindy’s death, their first grandchild was born. Cecil eventually
fell back in love, and remarried, and lived happily. But life wasn’t always easy
from there. In 2009, he survived a bout of cancer. Then 2012, he was diagnosed
with Alzheimer’s. And this time, there was not going to be any miracle healing.
He continues to live in Jacksonville, Arkansas. He still lives in the same house
where he raised his two children, and lived with the woman he met at war.
DEVIN OTTO
is in fourth grade at Viewlands
Elementary School. He is a self-described average piano player, and
in the future he would like to be
the next Tarzan.
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The Way West
Ivy Nunez
“Are we there yet?” asked Mary and John impatiently.
“We are only half-way there. It will be a long time ‘till we reach Oregon,” said
their mother, Ann.
Ann, her husband, Robert, and their two kids, Mary and John, were heading west
from Missouri to Oregon by horse and wagon. One day, after a couple hours traveling through the desolate flat wilderness, the wagon broke an axle. Robert propped
the wagon up with a thick piece of wood and crawled under the wagon to fix the
problem. While fixing the axle, the piece of wood broke and the entire wagon collapsed on him. The sound echoed through the empty land. Ann shivered with fear.
He could not get out, and Ann could not lift up the wagon for him to crawl out.
“You have to go get help but you can’t bring the kids. You will be faster if you
go alone,” Robert whispered through gritted teeth. Mary and John were only ten,
and they were terrified. Growing up, their grandpa had told them stories of Native
Americans kidnapping children and women.
“Don’t go!” said Mary.
“We can come with you,” said John.
But Ann knew that her husband was right. She left crying, her face was red from
all the emotion. Just the thought of leaving her kids and her husband scared her,
but she had to be strong. She rode away on a horse, and had been looking for help
for about three days when she finally found someone. He was a fellow pioneer,
traveling in a wagon by himself from Missouri to Oregon, and his name was Paul
Windover. Ann was filled with hope.
Paul went back with her to help. But by that time they returned, Robert was
dead. Mary and John were running around, filthy and screaming like someone
was going to kill them. They were miserable from having their dad die right in
front of them, starving, and afraid that the Indians were going to come out at any
time.
Ann did her best to comfort Mary and John. She thought about her kids. There
wasn’t much food, and although she was sad, she knew they had to keep going.
Paul invited them to come in his wagon and continue to Oregon. They finally arrived, and a couple years later, Ann and Paul got married and had more children—
one of whom was my great-great-grandma, Pearl.
I am connected to these relatives because in tough situations, I can make the
right decision, just like Ann. I am pretty brave like her too.
IVY NUNEZ
is in fourth grade at Viewlands
Elementary School. He is a self-described average piano player, and
in the future he would like to be
the next Tarzan.
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I N T O T H E WO R L D
For THIS IN-SCHOOLS PROJECT AT VIEWLANDS ELEMENTARY,
STUDENTS DID COUNTRY REPORTS, THEN WROTE
FICTIONAL STORIES SET IN THE COUNTRY.
The Nightmare
Deangelos “DJ” Clark
In Panama, even though it is beautiful, it does not mean that people are beautiful.
For example, Manuel Noriega was a bad dictator. Would you want to be his friend?
I didn’t think so. But, guess what? He is the person we are going to hear about today, so get comfortable and get ready for awesomeness.
Manuel came into power in 1983. He kept weapons from when he was in the
Panama Army. If the people of Panama were the Superheroes in this story, then
Noriega would be the villain, which is why people can make bad comments about
him because he did bad things. He hit the Panamanian people and sometimes
killed them. Manuel was not always mean. He was bullied like crazy when he was
a kid so that is why he became evil.
At night, he would practice his evil laugh.
“Har har har!” he would say. He kind of sounded like a pirate.
Because he was a dictator, he got whatever he wanted or else something bad
would happen. He wore his army outfit every day to scare people and remind
them he was a general. He started a lot of wars with other countries and after every
war he would eat bananas to celebrate his victory.
“No one better touch my bananas, or else!” he would say. One day, after a long
war between Panama and Havana (a city in Cuba) he was craving a big dinner.
“Hurry up! I want sausage, eggs, rice, and bananas, now! And I mean a big dinner!” Manuel said in his evil, mean, yelling voice.
His servants hurried to serve him. Manuel was so disrespectful that he burped at
his servant and said, “Shooooo!” so his servants ran like lightning back into the
kitchen.
Each time Manuel ate a meal he wore a special navy shirt that was green, black,
and kind of plaid. He smacked his food until it was all gone and left his plate and
silverware on his golden table for his servants to clean while he went upstairs to
his bed. “That was a good dinner, but my servants were lousy,” he said.
He got his favorite Dalmatian puppy pajamas on, and practiced his evil laugh
until he fell asleep. He snored until the moon went down and the sun rose and
things got started again.
After a long sleep he got dressed in his khaki pants with his army uniform and
went to the Panama Canal to check if everything was okay and that the oil was
being shipped.
“Some of that oil should be for my hair!” he laughed.
That morning, he was running late because he had thrown his alarm across the
room at a servant the night before and so he’d slept through his strict scheduled
wakeup time. He was so late, he had to skip his usual sausage and egg breakfast.
Usually he got around by people carrying him on a fancy bed, but he decided his
servants were too lazy and slow, so he stormed off and decided to run by himself
the few miles to the canal. When he got there, what he saw was his worst nightmare—it was a nightmare he could not wake up from. At the canal, there were
hundreds of Panamanian navy guards waiting for him. He was confused. Did I tell them to go there? He thought.
One of the guards got a hand on him.
“What is going on? Let go of me!” Manuel yelled.
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“We don’t like you anymore! You are not a good person to serve! All of Panama is
turning against you!” the guard said. Manuel had done mean things to the guard’s
family, so even though it was risky to stand up to him, the guard was just done with
it. He decided to make his own orders, and turn against Manuel.
“Really? ALL of Panama?” said Manuel. “I’ll execute the entire country!”
“That won’t happen because you’ll be in jail probably for the rest of your life!” the
guard said.
“Hope you like cells!” said another. They arrested Manuel and put him in jail.
After four months, Manuel went to trial in the courtroom. No one showed up to
root for him. Even his lawyer didn’t want to be there. He avoided eye contact with
Manuel, and stood as far away from him in the courtroom as he could.
The judge took a really deep breath before sentencing him. “You are removed from
power and will spend thirty-three years in Panamanian jail for assault and battery,”
he said. Manuel had his head down in disappointment. His lawyer smiled. The
people of Panama had a huge two-day parade to celebrate him going to jail. Even the
judge took off his robe and went to join in.
In Manuel’s jail, there was really tight security. There were guards everywhere so
if he tried to escape he’d be caught. He didn’t even have a bed to sleep on. Instead
of wearing his army uniform everyday, the guards made him wear his Dalmatian
pajamas.
Manuel thought, Man I regret doing all those stupid things... And leaving my servants at home! And with that he was left in his cell, crocheting.
“Rats!” He said.
DEANGELOS “DJ” CLARK
is a fourth grader at Viewlands Elementary School. He was inspired to
write a story set in Panama because
his relatives used to live there. He
aspires to be a scientist or a football
player.
!
t
o
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&
p
o
St
LEAF LIFE
EMNET HAILE
You are a leaf and fall has started.
Explain how you feel about this.
I am a leaf. I am orange and cold. I’m shaped
differently by a lot of pokey sides. I’m a happy
leaf, but one fall day, I didn’t know where I was.
When the wind came it took me on a beautiful
adventure. On that breezy day, the wind took me
to Times Square, New York, like a taxi to a destination. It was amazing and wonderful like an astronaut going to space or the moon. When I looked
around there were buildings, people walking,
taxis driving, and children laughing. Suddenly a
huge wind lifted my eleven friends and me, and
we knew we would have a wonderful adventure
in Times Square.
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Alice & Abdy: Success at Sochi
Christina Ellenburg & Martin Lam
“Today’s the day!” said Alice to her mother. “The Olympics are starting, and Abdy’s
competing!” Alice was so excited, but also worried. Her older brother, Abdy, was
the lead ice hockey player in offense in the world, and he was on the Russian national team. He was only seventeen and five feet tall, but he could not be replaced.
Alice was nine and very smart. She planned to go watch her brother’s game at the
Olympic ice rink in Sochi on the Black Sea, which was thousands of miles away
from their house on the frozen tundra. She could get there, however, through a
two-mile shortcut of an underground slide.
“I wish I could come with you,” Alice’s mom said. Their mom was very sick,
though, because of her pregnancy, so she couldn’t leave her bed. Alice and Abdy’s dad worked far away in California at eBay, so Alice would have
to get to the game by herself.
Abdy, meanwhile, had been training for four years near the Olympic site at Sochi.
It was his big day. He was going to play!
“I hope the team wins, so that we can get the award money and have a bigger
house, live a better life, and get better doctor equipment,” Alice’s mom said. “Alice,
you will have to walk there, even though you are only nine. Here are some provisions—vitamins, a basket of food, medical supplies, extra sports equipment, and a
flashlight, in case anything happens.” Her mom looked at her. “You look just like
your father—long blonde hair and blue eyes, just like Abdy, too,” she said. “Your
father sent us some money from his paycheck. You can spend it on what you need.
Just don’t spend it on things that you don’t need.”
Alice put all the supplies in a wagon. She also put in a dictionary, because she
was still learning how to speak fluent Russian (they spoke mostly a mixture of Russian and English at home) and the 686-page fantasy book about animals and kidnapping that she had been reading, just in case she got bored. She added the book
Abdy was reading: Mockingjay. She was biting her nails thinking about the trip.
After she had gone one mile in the underground slide, she saw a man who was
starving. He was holding a cup to put money in.
“Can you spare some change?” he asked.
“Hold on,” she said. She went to a nearby vending machine and bought him a
loaf of Russian rye bread, a pack of bologna, and cheese. The man said, “Thank you and God bless your heart.”
She replied, “You’re welcome,” and she continued her journey.
Finally, she made it to the huge, brand-new Olympic stadium in Sochi! Alice
walked her wagon to the main entrance. Two security guards were leaning on the
gate, snoring. “It’s OK,” she told the security guards. “I’m Abdy’s sister. I have supplies that he
needs.” The guards shook awake. The enormous, bearded security guards looked at
her. One of them had a cigar, the other had a billy club. They looked at one another.
“Let me in or I’ll tell your boss that you were sleeping on the job!” said Alice.
The guards rolled their eyes. Alice reached into her pocket and gave the guards
five rubles. They nodded at each other and let her past.
As Alice walked into the stadium, she heard the roar of ten thousand people
cheering. The smells of her favorite Russian foods, such as thin pancakes and
borscht, filled the stadium. Thousands of small Russian flags were waving around
like flying cats, dotted by a few Canadian and French flags. It looked like there
were people from all of Russia’s eight different time zones all in this one stadium. A
giant homemade banner waved in the audience that read “D” plus a fence, which
meant DEFENSE. Above the sign, Alice saw a countdown clock; luckily, the game
was just about to start!
“Ten minutes,” she said. Alice ran to Abdy’s locker room. When she got there, the
locker room was empty, because all the players were in the training room warming up. She looked around and found Abdy’s locker and saw his equipment was
missing! Hmmm, I wonder if Abdy knows all his equipment is gone? Alice thought
to herself. I’d better replace it, just in case.
She grabbed the supplies out of the wagon and put them in Abdy’s locker. She
quickly left and sat in her seat with the wagon next to her. “Whew!” she said, as she saw her brother. “HEY, OVER HERE, ABDY!”
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Her brother thought it was just another fan until he saw her! A surprised look came
over his face. There was a pay phone nearby which Alice used to call her mom.
Ring ring ring.
“Hello?” her mom answered. “Who is this?”
“Me, mom. I’m at the game. Abdy’s here, too,” said Alice.
“Wonderful!” said her mom.
“I had to replace Abdy’s equipment because someone took it!” she said.
After three quarters of the game against Canada, Abdy had the puck. After getting
past all five players, he finally got to the goalie. He shot; he scored! Abdy scored the
winning point. All of his teammates picked him up, throwing him and
yelling, “Hooray, hooray!” However, Abdy still wanted to know what had happened
to his equipment, and Alice had no idea.
Alice was determined to find the thief (dun, dun, DUN!). So she snuck back into the
locker room to look for clues. She knew she could watch Abdy’s game later on video. She saw footprints of a special kind of shoe that she realized only the Canadians
wore.
Then, Alice spied on the Canadian team and saw that they had Abdy’s equipment.
She found a guard and told him about the stolen equipment. The guard was drinking
tea in a glass (Russian-style) and eating pancakes and sour cream
(called blintzes).
He said, “I don’t believe you. Show me!”
So Alice took him to the Canadian locker room and showed him the proof.
Abdy’s equipment even had a “Russia” sticker that said: “Property of Abdy: DO NOT
TOUCH unless you are Coach Dmitry Donskoy (or DD for short)!”
Since Alice had cleverly solved the problem of the missing equipment, she took
Abdy’s phone and called their mom. “Mom, guess what? I found Abdy’s stolen equipment. The Canadians had it.” Her mom told her to come home quickly and help her
with her medical situation, which was getting worse. Alice knew that Abdy would
do just fine at the game without her in the audience. And he did!
CHRISTINA ELLENBURG
is a fourth grader at Viewlands Elementary School. She likes to camp,
go to Green Lake Park, and fish. In
the future, she would like a career
as a teacher for K-second grade.
MARTIN LAM
is in fourth grade at Viewlands
Elementary School. He is a self-described average piano player, and
in the future he would like to be
the next Tarzan.
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Moroccan Zombie Apocalypse
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SIV
Abdarahim Sander & Amira Hill
EX
Connor was in his junior high math class in Washington DC drooling on his notebook as his teacher droned on about parabolas and equations. It was the end of
the day, and almost time to go home. SLAM. Connor was shaken awake. At first
he thought his teacher had hit his desk to wake him up, but when he looked up,
through the window, he saw a green man hitting the window over and over as he
drooled. He looked hungry.
“What happened to that person?” said Conner, staring.
“Everybody! Get back in a corner!” said Conner’s teacher, Melissa.
“It’s a zombie!” said Conner. He fell out of his chair. Out the window, in the distance behind the zombie, Conner saw his grandpa’s car in the parking lot, waiting
to pick him up. Conner snuck out the side window and ran to his grandpa. “Let’s
get out of here!” he said. Luckily it was a hybrid car that didn’t make any noise so
the zombies didn’t hear them leaving.
“Grandpa, do you know what’s going on? I’ve never seen this happen before!”
Conner said.
“I knew this day would come,” his grandpa said. “When we get home, people will
explain this to you.” They drove home quickly. Of all the days in the year for my
parents to be on vacation, they had to pick this day, Conner thought to himself.
Right after they got home, the F.B.I. arrived in a helicopter. There was a flash
bomb. They broke through the windows and quickly escorted Conner, his grandpa,
and their white and brown bulldog, Sam Maxwell back to the helicopter
“Where are you taking us?” said Conner. “What’s your name?”
“That information is classified,” said an agent wearing a black hazmat outfit. The
helicopter was loud, so it was hard to hear him, but he explained the situation.
Conner was shaking and his eyes were open really wide. He made a hiccup sound.
“Listen really closely,” the agent said to Conner. “When your grandfather here,
Robert, was a scientist in college, there was a first zombie outbreak during Y2K and
Robert developed the antidote for it. Every zombie was treated except for one—the
woman who is now your mother. She was from Morocco, which was why you
were you born there. She is a highly functional zombie. Thus, you, Connor, are
half zombie, half regular human. Now, there is another epidemic. It’s a new virus.
Patient zero is in your home country, Morocco. We’re headed there now. We’ll be
there in an hour,” said the agent.
I don’t want to go back to Morocco! Conner thought. His eyes were wide open.
Even though he could speak fluent Arabic that he’d learned from his mom, Morocco still felt like a scary place.
“Stay close, Conner,” said his grandpa. “We can do this together, not alone.”
When they touched down in Morocco it was really hot compared to Washington
DC. It was summer at that time and somewhere between 75 and 100 degrees. There
were in the middle of a big city.
“Welcome to Rabat,” said the agent. “The capitol of Morocco.”
There was a red flag flying from the top of a big mansion nearby. The flag had a
green star in the middle.
“That must be like Morocco’s version of the White House!” said Conner. They got
out of the helicopter. He saw cats fleeing from the alley. There were lots of people
walking around. Some of the women were wearing a hijab—a scarf around their
neck and head that covered their hair. The men were wearing yellow shoes with
no shoelaces and long shirts that went down to the middle of their legs, covering
their pants.
“You’re right,” said the agent. “Go in the side door that’s opened there.” I’ll be right
there.
Conner walked in the side door with his grandpa and dog. Conner thought it was
a good idea to bring Sam Maxwell for protection and to sniff out danger. From the
hallway, they passed a door that said ‘President’s Office.’ He heard moaning from
inside.
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“I don’t know about this,” said Grandpa.
When they got to the president’s office, Conner saw that the President was a zombie too. “Hmmrrrrggggg....” the President moaned.
“What’s he saying?” asked Conner’s grandpa.
“I speak fluent Arabic,” said Conner. “I’ll ask him.”
But the president was transitioning to a zombie, so he couldn’t speak in any language besides trying to say the Arabic word for ‘brains.’
“Let’s go. We have to get out,” said Conner’s grandpa. They ran to the door, but the
FBI agent grabbed them.
“No. We’re going to the secret lab downstairs where no zombies can enter,” the
agent said. “It’s locked down automatically with sensors if any zombie tries to enter.”
The agent was still wearing his hazmat suit to protect him from the virus. Luckily it
had cooling patches inside to keep him from over-heating.
When they got in the lab, Conner didn’t know what to do.
“A zombie virus is different than a regular virus,” explained Conner’s grandpa. He
grabbed Conner’s hand and took a syringe and extracted a little bit of blood. “We
have to use your blood to test samples to see if we can destroy the zombie virus.”
Conner’s grandpa looked at the blood under a microscope.
Together, Conner and his grandpa worked day and night for a week while taking
shifts for sleeping.
“Finally! We found the antidote!” Conner’s grandpa said, waking Conner up. “I
dreamt the solution last night, and it worked!” Conner’s grandpa held up a syringe.
“We’ll put it in the water and then people will drink the water, and then when the
zombies bite new people, the antidote will spread across the world!”
“Yay! Hurray! I’ll text the FBI agent and tell him the good news!” said Conner.
Luckily they had a satellite phone and there was good wifi in the lab.
Sam Maxwell had woken up when he heard Conner yell. He was excited to go
outside too.
They went upstairs to the street. They walked down a dark narrow alley with gray
bricks. The cats were running away from Sam Maxwell.
“You’d think they’d be more scared of zombies than a dog,” said Conner.
Sam Maxwell pointed his nose, and barked quietly in the direction of the water
tower.
“I see it!” said Robert. Robert and Conner gave Sam Maxwell a turkey-flavored
treat.
“Good job,” said Conner. They all ran towards the water tower. They heard the zombies moaning, and their slow footsteps coming up behind them.
When they got to the water tower, Conner emptied the vial into the water supply.
“I hope this works!” Conner said, his hands together in prayer.
Conner, his grandpa and Sam Maxwell waited at the top of the water tower. Conner sent a text message to everyone in the country. Drink the water! It tastes like
brains! it said. All the zombies listened. Within two minutes, the antidote worked.
They were safe.
Conner got a message from the FBI agent. “You have to go home now,” it said.
Conner, Robert and Sam Maxwell were heroes. They had saved the world.
“We’re better than Superman!” said Conner.
“Well, not quite, but I guess we’re still okay,” said Conner’s grandpa.
To celebrate, they decided to stay in Morocco to have a vacation for a little while
and go shopping in the market for one of Morocco’s famous live rainbow chickens.
“I want to bring one home to show off to the FBI, and give mom and dad a souvenir,” said Conner.
“I hope they let it on the plane,” said his grandpa.
“I hope so too,” said Conner.
ABDARAHIM SANDER
is in the fourth grade at Viewlands
Elementary Schools. He likes to
write, (once he gets going) and he
also likes doing magic tricks. Abdarahim wants to be a lot of things,
including an astronaut, a writer,
and a firefighter.
AMIRA HILL
is a fourth grader at Viewlands Elementary School. She is a talented
writer.
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First Sight at Last
E
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Helen Sereste
CL
X
E
Lena got ready for the party in her town, Addis Ababa. She put on hair curlers and
her purple dress with short ruffled sleeves. The dress was traditional. Her test to become a brain surgeon was in 15 days and she had to study. She was driving to the
party but she was worried sick about the test.
Fifteen minutes later she was at the party and on top of the roof. There were blue
streamers. The lights were off, but there were disco balls, four in the corner and one
in the middle of the party.
How fun, only girls and NO BOYS! Thought Lena. Well there was one boy, her
friend, Elsa’s brother, Harold, whose nickname was Harry.
Lena fell in love at first sight. And OMG there was too much food and she tasted
some really good injera.
“How much did this injera cost?” She asked her friend, Elsa.
“We made it at home,” said Elsa.
“I can’t believe the weather, it is so hot out,” Lena told her friend.
“It is like 100 degrees out,” said Elsa. “Of course, we are in the middle of the equator,” she added.
“I love that the food is spicy with a touch of sweetness,” Lena said. “Injera is my
favorite!”
Just then, Elsa saw Lena staring at Harold.
“If you like him, make a move,” said Elsa.
“Really? That wouldn’t feel weird or awkward?” said Lena.
“No, not at all,” said Elsa.
“Thanks,” Lena said, and she made a move.
Lena walked across the room and bumped into Harry, who was talking to his
friend, Dustin. Harry turned around, “Hey, what’s your name?” he said.
“My name’s Lena. What’s your name?”
“Harry,” he replied.
“Sorry for bumping into you,” said Lena.
“It’s OK,” said Harry.
“Are you mad?” said Lena.
“No, how could I be mad? The world famous Ethiopian King is coming to our
party!”
“Abate Berhe ?”
“No, that’s his servent!”
“Oh, yeah. Alemnesh Tekle, then?”
“No! That’s the Queen!”
“Oh, right! Haile Selassie!”
“Yes!” Replied Harry.
“My dad knew him!”
Twenty minutes later, the king had come and gone and the party was over.
Fifteen days later the test was over and Lena passed! She became a brain surgeon
and married Harry. They moved away from Addis Ababa because they only had a
thousand dollars, which wasn’t enough to live on in a city where even injera was a
hundred dollars. They were going to miss their family and the Ethiopian lakes and
rivers, but Lena and Harry had always dreamed of moving to a peaceful place like
Costa Rica. So they moved there, and they had a very peaceful life.
HELEN SERESTE
is a fourth grader at Viewlands Elementary. Three of her goals are to
be better at tetherball, practice improving her voice, and send money to her family in Ethiopia. When
she grows up, she would like to be
a singer or a doctor.
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ONCLUSI
EX
Life in War
Phoebe Martin
Elsa was a girl with sizzle. She ran as fast as she could to get to school with her best
friends, Annabella and Sophia. It was a cloudy fall day in Copenhagen, Denmark.
“BRRINNG. BRRINNG” went the bell to start the day. As Elsa and her friends sat
down, their teacher, Mrs. Sei, walked in. She wrote something on the blackboard.
Division, Elsa thought to herself, Oh-no! I hate Division. I hope Sophia helps me
since she is good at it.
Elsa tapped her head five times to signal to Sophia that she needed help at the
exact same moment Annabella signaled to Sophia the same thing.
Sophia shook her head ‘no’ and gave her friends the usual look to mean: do your
own work. Annabella and Elsa both let out a big sigh.
After an hour, it was time for recess. “Time to go outside,” Mrs. Sei said. “When
you come back in we will do division.”
Annabella, Sophia, and Elsa went to play jump rope. They heard a loud BANG
and then another. Mrs. Sei screamed at them to get back inside. Frightened, everyone ran back to the classroom.
Elsa felt a tightness in her jaw. “What is happening?” she asked Mrs. Sei.
“The Nazis are dropping bombs. The war has begun,” Mrs. Sei said.
Elsa crouched down with Annabella and Sophia under their desks as the warning sirens went off. They grabbed each others’ hands and holding them tight.
After two hours, they got out. “Your parents are coming,” Mrs. Sei said.
We will not start school again until we know it is safe.” Elsa ran to her parents.
They had already gotten her siblings: Ruby (age 8), Rex (age 6), and Stella (age 2).
They went home. Because Elsa was 12, she knew what the bombs meant. They
meant they were under attack.
“Elsa and Ruby, your mother and I need to talk to you,” said their father.
“About what?” Ruby asked.
“Well, we are Jews and the Nazis and their leader Hitler hate us. No one knows
why, but he does. That mean’s something is going to happen around here,” their
dad said.
“Like what?” asked Ruby and Elsa in unison.
“Well, that means we will have to make our own synagogue at home because
the Germans are smart and they will grab every person in the synagogue and kill
them,” their mother said.
Everyone was silent until their mother told them, “Go wash up for bed girls. Rex
and Stella are already in bed.”
Elsa lay down in the tiny little bed that she shared with Ruby. She stared at the
ceiling. Will we die because we are Jewish? She thought to herself. Soon, she fell
asleep.
“Elsa, Ruby! Time for breakfast! We are going to start without you if you don’t
come now!” their mother yelled.
Elsa and Ruby raced to get ready. Ruby put on her play dress and Elsa put on a
skirt and stockings and a long shirt. Their mother had used the last eggs in an omelet. All the siblings sat together at the table
“This will be one of your last good breakfasts,” their mother said.
“Why?” asked Rex.
“Because the Nazis have taken the butter and milk,” their mother explained.
After they had their breakfast, Elsa went outside. School was cancelled until further notice, but it was still safe to play outside until further notice. Annabella and
Sophia were waiting outside with a soccer ball. They ran off to the park to play.
After a few hours they went home.
When Elsa got home, their family friend, Walter, was there talking to her parents
in the living room. He had a serious expression on his face. Ruby and Stella played
with paper dolls in their bedroom. Rex played with his toy trucks. Elsa’s parents
called her over, and she went in the living room to sit on her father’s lap.
“Elsa, the war has begun and that means we have to move, but you are going to
stay with Ruby and make sure she doesn’t get hurt,” said her mother.
“Where are we moving?” Elsa asked.
“That you can’t know. Stella and Rex have to come with us—they’re too young
to stay behind. I have made plans for you to stay with Sophia for now. Once your
father and I get settled, Sophia’s parents will arrange for you to join us. Go now and
get Ruby and tell her what’s happening,” her mother said. Elsa felt like crying, but
she knew she couldn’t because Stella would ask her too many questions. So she
took a deep breath and went into the bedroom.
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“Ruby, will you come outside?” She asked. They walked outside together.
“It looks like our family is moving and you and I are going to stay here,” Elsa said.
“Why?” Ruby asked.
“Well, that I can not answer now. Go inside and do not say anything to Rex or Stella,” Elsa replied.
Ruby looked terrified as she left. It will be OK, thought Elsa. You have to be brave
for Ruby. As Elsa walked inside, her dog, Polish, jumped up on her and licked her.
This made her feel better.
In the morning, her parents, Stella, and Rex were gone. At first, Elsa was worried,
but then she thought that her parents probably left a note. Elsa woke up Ruby.
“What’s going on?” Said Ruby. “Where are mom and dad?”
“They probably left a note. Help me find it,” said Elsa. Ruby sat up in bed, then got
up to help.
“Elsa, I found it!” Ruby yelled. Ruby was reading the note as Elsa walked into the
room. Ruby handed it to Elsa.
Dear Ruby and Elsa,
I have left to move with your Papa and Rex and Stella. Elsa, I am counting on you to
keep Ruby safe. There is some cream and bread, but use it wisely. Sophia will come
get you with her parents, but stay hidden. Burn this note so the soldiers do not find
it.
Love,
Your Mother and Papa
“Come, we must get dressed,” Elsa told Ruby. They put on their normal clothes and
hid until Sophia’s parents arrived that evening. Because Ruby was younger, she
went first with Sophia’s dad, carrying their basket. Sophia’s mom stayed until it was
safe to go and then they made a run for it.
When they got to Sophia’s house it was dark and Ruby was not there. Sophia’s dad
led them up to a storage room in the attic of the house that Elsa had never been to
before. Annabella, who was also Jewish, was there too. He told them all to keep very
quiet. Annabella wrote on a paper: No talking. Soldiers might find us.
Elsa was glad Ruby had brought the basket of food and that they had a book to
draw in until they were out of hiding.
My parents thought it would be best if I hid here with you, Annabella wrote.
Elsa’s mother’s words raced through her mind and she knew her mother was
counting on her to keep Ruby safe. It is up to me, Elsa thought.
When Elsa work up Ruby was still asleep.
“Is there bread for breakfast?” Elsa whispered.
“Yes,” Annabella said.
They ate breakfast.
Ruby handed Elsa her book. Elsa took it and looked at it. In it, Ruby had drawn an
angry solider and a dog, barking orders at an older man. She’d also drawn a Star of
David. Elsa smiled at Ruby. Ruby looked like she was going to cry. She hugged Elsa
for a long time.
“Yesterday Sophia’s dad told me we all are going to escape tonight to Sweden,” Annabella whispered. “Are you ready?”
“I’m coming,” Elsa replied. “I’m ready.”
They left at 10:00 pm so that it would be dark. Sohpia’s dad tapped quietly on the
door. Elsa answered. It was time to go. Elsa pointed to Ruby, who was sleeping, and
Sophia’s dad picked her up.
“Stay hidden until you get to the boat. You girls go with Sophia, We will take care of
Ruby and meet you at the dock,” Sophia’s mom said. With that, they all went out into
the darkness of the night.
Elsa was nervous as she followed Sophia down a path. Suddenly, they heard footsteps. It was the Nazis! The girls jumped into the bushes. They heard yelling in the
distance. Elsa, Annabella, and Sophia squeezed their hands. Then everything was
still and the soldiers were gone.
Elsa, Annabella, and Sophia ran until they got to the boat just in time. Sophia’s parents were waiting there for them. The captain gestured for the girls to board and hide.
He opened a secret door and they climbed in and said good-bye to Sophia. Inside
they found Ruby who cried quietly in fear.
“It’s all over. We are safe,” Elsa said and hugged her.
They arrived in Sweden the next day and Elsa and Ruby’s parents were waiting
with Rex and Stella. They all hugged. They were safe.
PHOEBE MARTIN
is 10 years old and goes to Viewlands Elementary. In addition to
writing, she loves reading and listening to country music. She has
Danish heritage..
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Come fly with me
IN this workshop, students wrote FICTIONAL stories
that took place during the dawn of commercial AIRLINE travel.
Danger Up Ahead
Jibril Ali-Halane
It was May 19, 1964 in Washington D.C. I was thirty-two-year-old pilot Bill Robertson. I was tall and thin with blonde shaggy hair. My co-pilot, Sam Smith, and
I were supposed to take a passenger plane to the Bahamas. Sam and I had been
partners for years. It was our first time heading to the Bahamas though, and I was
feeling a little nervous because I’d never set foot in the Caribbean before.
I woke up at 4:00 a.m. I got up because I was feeling nerve-racked. My forehead
was heating up and my palms were getting sweatier and sweatier. I felt like I
couldn’t sleep one bit more. I put on my uniform and my aviator sunglasses. Without my hat on, I looked like a cop. I quickly put on my hat without thinking
one bit. Time was slowly draining from the clock nearby the side of my bed. I paced
around the house for hours thinking nervously about the big flight. I jogged to the
door and I was off.
As I drove to the airport, I watched as the lights blinked slowly in front of me as
cars rushed past. Man was it already rush hour? I thought as the light blinked of
green. As I stared blankly at the airport, I saw a car right next to me. I said loudly
so the driver could hear me, “Sam?” The driver rolled his window down and turned
his head to face me.
“Yeah?” he said. Once he realized it was me he shouted, “Oh, hey!” The gates to the
airport opened. I rolled down my pitch-black windows to see sun shine down.
Wow, no wonder it was rush hour, I thought.
“Well, we better get moving. We have a flight to catch!” I said to Sam. We quickly
parked and raced for the plane. We were in the cockpit in mere minutes. We were
huffing and puffing as we got ready to take off.
“Man,” Sam said. “We almost missed it!”
“Yeah, I know,” I replied calmly, still wheezing. “Well, it sounds like everybody’s
on. Let’s go!” I grabbed a hanky and wiped my sweaty palms.
“Alpha, I hear you. Are you ready to take off?” said the control tower operator
through the radio.
“OK,” I said, “OK!” I saw out of the corner of my eye that Sam was wondering
what was going on with me. “It’s OK. I’m feeling fine,” I muttered under my breath.
“Anyway, let’s take off.”
In three hours, we were over the jungle of the Bahamas. All of a sudden, I saw
that the left wing was tilting. I saw Sam catch it out of the corner of his eye too, and
the look he gave me described all the words he wanted to say. I grabbed the P.A.
“Attention! We may fall into the dense jungle! Remain calm! I repeat, remain
calm!” The first thing I heard were shrieks of horror and Sam did the same as the
passengers. There was a rumble then silence, total silence.
“The wing fell off!” a passenger shrieked.
“EMERGENCY LANDING!” I screamed.
All I remember after that was everything going white. I woke up to see Sam
standing in front of me. To my horror, the entire plane was in bits and pieces of
debris lying in the small patch of field into which we had crashed. I saw injured
passengers nearby. I stood up and said to Sam, “We’re walking to the airport.”
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Come fly with me
I gathered everyone who wasn’t injured. We got everyone to carry the injured passengers. It was going to be a long walk. We walked for what I thought were days.
We ate food we’d brought from the plane, and drank water from the rainforest.
Finally we reached a coastal city with the airport where we were supposed to have
gone. I heard people give shrieks of “Oh!” and “No!” as we passed. We went to the
local hospital and got treatment for the people who were injured.
As I entered the airport with Sam to go back home, I said “This time, we’re the passengers.”
After that, we realized piloting is dangerous. So after a couple of years, we retired. I
was glad. Now I work for Tower Control.
JIBRIL
ALI-HALANE
is a fifth grader at Gregory Heights
Elementary School in Burien.
He’s attended numerous workshops and was published in last
year’s What to Read in the Rain.
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Come fly with me
E
N
LI E
ONCLUSIV
EX
In Search of the Next
Sherlock Holmes
Yusuf Ali-Halane
As a child, I had always admired the Wright Brothers. The fact that two men managed to invent and fly the world’s first successful airplane was absolutely jaw-dropping. I would often find myself dreaming that I was there on that cold December
day nearly sixty-two years ago during the event. I mean, the thought of being
able to fly was something most (if not all) of us would love to be able to do. Who
would’ve thought that I would one day be on a Boeing 747 heading for England? I
certainly didn’t, until my boss at The New York Times called me into his office on a
cold December morning.
“How can I help you, sir?” I asked in a confused tone. The room was musty and
dimly lit. His desk was cluttered with potential stories and his walls covered with
awards.
“John, how would you feel about going to the other side of the Atlantic?”
“I’m not sure, sir. Why?”
“Several sources indicate that London’s most famous mystery writer is planning
on hanging it all up for good. They say he could be the next Sir Arthur Conan
Doyle.”
“Doyle? You mean guy who wrote the Sherlock Holmes series?”
“That’s the one. So you can see how promising this new writer could be. I need
you to take a plane to London to figure out what exactly is going on.”
“Of course!” I exclaimed. It wasn’t the story that had gotten me excited; it was the
fact that I was going to ride inside a plane for the first time ever. Call me a little kid,
but the thought of flying is an amazing thing. Even at the age of 23, I still dreamed
that I was flying in the air as if I were Superman.
Of course I agreed to the job, and just like that I found myself walking towards the
Boeing 707 that would carry me and several other people across the Atlantic and
into London, the heart of England. I stopped halfway there and just stood on the
runway gazing at this beautiful piece of art. Yeah, it can be viewed as “just a hunk
of metal.” But it’s so much more than that; it’s a symbol of progress, innovation, and
promise. As humans, we’ve come from walking on our own two feet to flying in
the air. And if we as humans are able to fly in the air, then there really is no limit to
what we’re able to accomplish.
“Sir, the plane is ready to leave,” the stewardess said.
I came back to my senses to find a stewardess in front of me, and a roaring airplane ready to go.
“Thank you very much, ma’am”
I rushed up the steps of the plane and quickly found my seat. I breathed a huge
sigh of relief as the plane took off and flew into the air. I looked through the window to my right and all I saw were clouds and blue skies. I never imagined that
I would be where I am right now, I thought. I was sitting still in my seat, but my
mind was racing. I was finally doing what I had dreamed of ever since I was a kid:
flying. December 3, 1965. It’s a date that I know I’ll never forget.
But then, it was time to focus on the task at hand. I began writing questions for
the British author I would hopefully soon be meeting. As the airplane continued
seamlessly flying through the sky, providing not only popped ears and transportation, but inspiration and wonder.
YUSUF ALI-HALANE
is sixteen and lives in Burien with
his mother and his two brothers.
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STOP & JOT CONTRIBUTORS
NEBEYAT DESSIE
attends BF Day Elementary
School. She is in second grade,
regularly
attends
writing
workshops at 826 Seattle with
her two sisters, Naz and Tensaye, and she knows a lot about
rabbits.
EMNET HAILE
goes to Westwood Elementary School, is in the fourth
grade and is ten years old.
She likes singing, and writes
beautiful poems.
JACK NEWTON
is in fifth grade at St. John
School. He enjoys outdated
computer technology, and
making models of old-model
Apple computers.
ZOË NEWTON
is an eighth grader at St. John
School. She is a prolific writer
and her stories have appeared
in numerous 826 Seattle publications.
ELIAS ROJAS JR.
attends Adams Elementary
School. He is eight years old
and in the second grade.
MILES RAPPAPORT
is nine years old and in the
fourth grade at APP at Lincoln Elementary School. He
is a big fan of obscure video
games, and Archie comic
books.
LILLY GREY RUDGE
is a sixth grader at Hamilton
International Middle School.
She enjoys playing the violin
and writing darkly humorous
fiction.
All Stop & Jot Illustrations by Toby Liebowitz
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a ck n o w l e d g e m e n t s
PARTICIPATING STAFF AND VOLUNTEERS
Bill Thorness
Barbara Jamison
Kathleen Alcalá
Al Tietjen
Kim Kent
Rebecca Brinson
Carolyn Wallace
Jared Leising
Diana Bryant
Katherine Walton
Eric Magnuson
Megan Burbank
Melissa Westbrook
Dave Masuda
Alicia Craven
Alek White
Forrest Perrine
Michaela Gianotti
Stephanie Wilson-Rothfuss
Kate Pluth
Alex Halsey
Dan Shumow
Miles Wray
Alison Jennings
Andrew Simon
Steve Yasukawa
Teri Hein
Doug Smith
Bushra Zaman
Sam Hernandez
Sue Spang
Nick Hunt-Walker
826 SEATTLE YOUTH ADVISORY BOARD
Melat Assefa
Haddy Njie
Finn Colando
Cece Rosenman
Brook Geleta
Jasmine Sun
Laura Malatos
Sam Zagula
IN-SCHOOLS TEACHERS
Angie Armbrust (Viewlands Elementary School)
Nohra Giraldo (Proyecto Saber, Ballard High School)
Debbie Spiegelman (Proyecto Saber, Ballard High School)
Jessie Towbin (Big Picture Middle School)
This project was made possible by a generous SPONSORSHIP FROM OUR PRINTER, Alphagraphics.
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A
PUB LICATION
FROM
TH E
FOLK S
826 SEATTLE
A WR ITI NG AND TUTOR I NG CE NTE R
I N S EATTLE , WA
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