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Spin the Golden Light Bulb

Page 5

by Jackie Yeager


  “Crap, this task is hard!” says Ander.

  “What’s a universally asked question?” asks Jillian.

  “And how do we make an object transform?” asks Mare. “What does that mean?”

  We look to Gregor and Seraphina. Gregor’s face looks concerned. Seraphina’s face breaks into a smile. “What? Are you guys worried? This task looks fun!”

  “Fun?” I say. “We have to use skills from all six categories to solve it!”

  “Exactly,” she says. “That’s what makes it fun.”

  After the five of us mope through dessert, Seraphina hustles us out of the dining hall. “Enough of the pouty faces. Let’s go see Ander and Jax’s room. Gregor, lead the way.”

  I tell myself to forget about our task, but I’m not so sure I can. At least Ander’s non-stop talking as we pass by all the golden doors distracts me. Eventually, we end up on the boys’ floor, and Jax opens their door just before Ander barges through.

  “Okay girls, wait until you see this!” He points to a giant board on the back wall. Streaks of color arrange themselves in different positions with each step he takes. “Come in, but then don’t move, got it?”

  We enter the room, take a few steps, and then freeze. The streaks on the wall change colors and find another spot. “Now, watch this.” He doesn’t move, but the sound of his voice causes the streaks to move to a new spot.

  I squint at the wall. “What are those?”

  Jillian reaches out and touches a blue streak. “They don’t feel like anything.”

  “They’re sound beams,” says Jax. “They display the sounds made in the room.”

  “Why?” asks Mare.

  “It’s a way for people who can’t hear to know what’s going on around them.”

  “How does it work?” I ask.

  Gregor explains, “Many non-hearing people can detect vibrations and beats. The sound beams are harnessed using a computer and laser images. The computer program was designed by a team from California. They found a way to make these beams interpret those sounds and turn them into visual messages.”

  Mare grins. “So if a person couldn’t hear at all, they could watch this wall and know if their favorite song is playing.”

  “Yes,” Gregor replies, “but only if the person knows the language of the sound beams.”

  Ander stands up on the desk chair. “This could change how deaf people communicate with hearing people!”

  “Yes, it probably will,” agrees Seraphina.

  Jillian shakes her head. “That’s amazing.”

  Ander jumps off the chair. “Wait until you see our bunk beds.”

  I pick at my nail polish. I bet it’s going to be another amazing invention.

  We follow him through an archway just like the one in our room. The bunk beds look normal to me. Ander stands before us like he’s about to give a speech.

  “Now, the girls may think these beds look like any they’ve seen before, right Jax?”

  “Right.”

  “But they would be wrong, wouldn’t they?”

  “Yes. They’d be wrong.”

  “So, girls, you are about to see how unique they are. We’ll demonstrate.”

  Ander sits down on the bottom bunk and Jax climbs up to the top.

  “Let’s say that I usually sleep down here and Jax usually sleeps up there. One night, I may say to Jax, ‘It’s not fair that you always get the top bunk. I want a turn.’”

  Jax sits up straight. “Then I would say, ‘I don’t feel like moving my blankets.’”

  “Okay, no problem,” says Ander. “Let’s take the beds for a spin . . .”

  Ander pushes a button on the bedpost. The bottom bunk moves out on rails to the right side and the top bunk moves out to the left. Then the bottom bunk slides up to the top spot and the top bunk slides down to the bottom spot.

  Ander shouts. “The beds can switch spots!”

  “That’s so cool!” I exclaim. “Can I try?”

  “Me first!” squeals Mare.

  Before the boys can protest, Mare and Jillian have pulled Ander off the top bunk and climbed into his spot. Jax looks at me and slowly stands up. I sit down and Ander pushes the button. My feet leave the ground and dangle below me as the beds switch spots again.

  Mare laughs, of course. “What team came up with this idea?”

  “The Ohio team—four years ago,” Seraphina replies.

  Ander grins. “This place is awe-some!”

  I can’t believe the stuff we’ve seen today. How will we ever think up something amazing like switching bunk beds and robotic monkeys? I mangle my thumb nail again.

  “Pardon me, ladies,” says Gregor, “but it is nearly time for evening announcements, and we must all be secured in our own bedchambers.”

  “Right,” says Seraphina. “We have a big first day tomorrow.”

  We make plans to meet Ander and Jax in the morning, and when Mare, Jillian, and I get back to our bedchamber, Seraphina reminds us that Swissa will be here to wake us at seven o’clock. I wait for my turn in the bathroom but suddenly all I can think about is sleep. I’m too tired to worry about our solution or to even miss my mom, but I send her a good night message anyway. She sends one back and I promise to call her in the morning.

  I wash up as quickly as I can in the purple bathroom, then slip into the star bed full of pillows. My mind jumps around thinking of this fancy bedchamber and the fancy campus and the fancy bus ride that only began this morning. If I can just stay awake until the evening announcements. But just like that, I fall asleep dreaming of Grandma Kitty. I have so many things to tell her about, like blueberry milkshakes, floating sparkles, balloon messages, switching bunk beds . . .

  SECRET CREATION

  My eyes flicker open. Something is bouncing near my head. I roll over and it’s Jillian jumping on the bed—on our star bed.

  “Wake up, Kia. Come on, Mare!”

  “I’m sleeping,” Mare groans and pulls the blanket over her head. I can’t pass up a chance for team bonding though, so I scramble out of my own bed and bounce with Jillian. We hop from bed to bed singing Mare’s name until she finally crawls out of her blanket cave. “Don’t you guys sleep?”

  “It’s our first day here,” says Jillian. “We want you to bounce with us.”

  “Can’t we do it later?”

  “Nope!” We grab her by both arms and drag her to a stand. Soon she’s bouncing too. Finally, we fall into the heap of pillows in the center of the star.

  “You guys stink,” she says, her hair covering her face like an old-fashioned mop. “What time is it?”

  “Six thirty,” I say.

  She flips her hair back. “What? Breakfast is at seven-thirty. That only gives us an hour to get ready!”

  “It won’t take me that long,” I say.

  “Are you kidding? Didn’t you see the boys at dinner yesterday? We might see some today, so we have to look good.”

  “Where?” I ask.

  She looks at me like I just sprouted another head. “Everywhere. Like at breakfast or in the hallways. Come on. Get ready!”

  We take turns in the shower and get dressed in shorts, flip flops and the matching blue NY shirts in our cubbies. While I’m waiting for Mare and Jillian to finish, I dig through my backpack for my phone and click on Grandma Kitty’s number. Her face smiles back at me.

  “Hi, Grandma!”

  “Oh, Peanut Butter Cup. I’ve been dying to hear from you. How is it? Do tell!”

  “It’s even better than I imagined. I don’t know where to start. Our room has sparkles. They purify the air. And our bed is so pretty. And we have this really nice preceptor, Seraphina. And our bus ride was like a movie theater, and I can’t even believe it. I feel like we’re in another dimension with more surprises every minute!”

  �
�I knew it would be wonderful and amazing and fabulous! So tell me. What is your task about? What category does it come from? Earth and Space? Communications?”

  My excitement sinks like an anchor. “All of them.”

  “All of them? Oh my. That is a different twist.”

  “Grandma Kitty, it’s an impossible twist!”

  “Now, don’t think like that. Think of it as a chance to show off things you know in all the categories.”

  “I guess.”

  “So, I’ve been wondering, has anyone said anything about your whole team coming from the same school?”

  “Well, yesterday one girl said we’re famous, and then we met Andora Appelonia, the one who started the camp. She wears this weird bun on her head, and she told us we have an advantage in this competition because we knew each other before we got here.”

  “Oh, crabapples! You do not have an advantage. I would come right down to that camp and tell her myself if it wasn’t against the rules.”

  “It’s okay. We’re going to work extra hard so it won’t matter anyway.”

  “That’s the spirit. I’m so thrilled you called me. Thank you, Dumpling. Now you go on ahead. I’m sure they have lots of activities planned for today.”

  “Yes, they do. We have to be at breakfast soon. Bye, Grandma Kitty. Love you!”

  “You too, Sugar Plum.”

  Her face fades away, and I wish I could get her back, but I click on Mom’s number instead. She picks up right away, and I hear her calling the rest of my family to the phone. They all squish into the tiny screen. “Hi, Kia!”

  “You’re all there!”

  “How are you, Kia? Did you get settled in okay?” asks Mom.

  “Yes! It’s amazing here. Wait until you see it.”

  “So, you’re having fun?” asks Dad.

  “It’s like a fairy tale.”

  “Your shirt doesn’t look like a gown, that’s for sure,” says Malin.

  I look down at the big letters and state map across my shirt. “No, but that’s okay. Everything is awesome. I can’t wait until you come.”

  “But Mom said we can’t come until the end of camp,” Ryne says.

  “None of the families can, Ryne—those are the rules. But you can come to the competition in a few weeks and cheer us on.”

  “Oh, we’ll be there,” says Dad. “We’re counting the days already.”

  “How’s your task?” asks Mom. “Will it be hard?”

  “It’s impossible! We have to use six categories to solve it.”

  She laughs. “Well the math portion shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

  “Mom, this competition is not just about math. It’s about being good at everything.”

  “Well that’s true but—”

  “I am good at other stuff too, you know.”

  “Of course, I’m just saying you can really focus on using some advanced math strategies to solve the task. That will really show the judges.”

  She doesn’t get it. I huff out a breath.

  “Kia, we know you and your teammates will use whatever skills you need to come up with a terrific solution,” says Dad.

  “I hope so.”

  “Have fun today, Little Bear.”

  “I will.”

  “And call us whenever you want to talk again, okay Kia?” Mom says.

  I doubt I’ll want to talk to her again soon, but I don’t tell her that. “I will. Bye everyone. I miss you.”

  “We miss you too. Bye!” Their faces disappear, but I don’t mind. I have to stay focused on this camp. I feel bad not wanting to talk to them—especially Mom, but she doesn’t really get any of this. Not like Grandma Kitty does.

  Mare is doing Jillian’s hair in the bathroom. She makes an elaborate braid over the top of her head and down the back. Jillian admires the creation in the mirror and leaps across the room, like she’s in a meadow of wild flowers.

  We unpack the rest of our suitcases and fill up the extra cubby spots in our closet.

  Jillian shoves a colorful skirt into one of hers.

  “Is that the skirt you wore yesterday?” I ask her.

  “Yes, I made it myself.”

  “You made it?” asks Mare.

  Jillian shoves a pair of shorts in next to the skirt. “Yeah. It was easy.”

  “Why wouldn’t you just buy one?” asks Mare.

  “What fun is that?” she replies.

  “I think it’s pretty,” I say.

  “Me too,” Mare continues. “I just think shopping would be more fun.”

  “I like shopping too,” says Jillian. “Shopping for fabric.”

  “I’ve never thought about buying fabric to make clothes,” I say. “I wouldn’t even know what to do with it.” I take out my Golden Light Bulb. “I think we need to find an important place for our Golden Light Bulbs too. How about the windowsill over the sparkle filter?”

  They agree, so we arrange our Golden Light Bulbs in a row and stand back to admire them.

  “Do you guys think it’s weird that all five of us came from Crimson?” I ask.

  Jillian sits down in the middle of the floor cross legged. “I don’t know. I never thought about it.”

  Mare sits down next to her. “Me either.” “Well, I think it’s weird that all five of us won.”

  “Why?” asks Jillian.

  “I don’t know. It’s just never happened before. It seems like a big coincidence.”

  Mare shrugs, but before either of them can respond, we’re interrupted by knocking on our door.

  Jillian rushes to open it, not quite running, almost floating. She reminds me of a gazelle. A girl appears in the doorway wide awake and smelling like flowers—the same vanilla flowers I smelled on the tree yesterday. “Hi,” says Jillian. “We’re up already. Are you Swissa?”

  Swissa looks startled. She’s a teenager, probably Seraphina’s age but a lot smaller. “Okay, that’s great. I won’t have to toss you out of the bed. That saves me a lot of time. Anyway, here are the flowers for your work table. I’ll bring more tomorrow.”

  Jillian takes the vase from her. “We get flowers every day?”

  “Yes, that was Seraphina’s request for your team. She thinks it will be easier for your creative juices to flow if you have something beautiful to look at while you work.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” asks Mare.

  “Nope. I wish I was. I’ll be back while you’re out of the room to clean up.”

  “Thank you for the flowers,” I say.

  She spins around and leaves without saying goodbye.

  “So, that’s Swissa,” Mare says.

  “She seems mad,” I reply.

  “I would be mad too if my job was to clean up all these fancy rooms.”

  We head down the hall to meet Ander and Jax. They’re waiting for us at the bottom of another set of winding stairs. Ander is jumping from the step to the floor, from the floor to the step, and back again.

  “What are you doing?” Mare asks.

  “We’re having a competition to see how many times we can jump back and forth in thirty seconds.”

  Jax shakes his head. “No, you’re having a competition with yourself. I’m just watching.”

  “Well, I hope you won then,” I say to Ander as I walk toward the dining hall.

  He catches up to me. “Oh, I did. No one even came close!”

  ***

  At the entrance to the dining hall, we swipe our meal cards through the reader and each take a tray. There’s a boy in front of me loading up his plate with something mushy. “Cool,” he says. “Scrambled Apples.”

  “Scrambled Apples?” I scrunch my nose.

  “They’re a camp tradition, I guess. I gotta try them.”

  “Me too, then.” I plop a scoop onto
my plate.

  “There’s peppermint in there,” he says. I look at him, and he’s grinning. I try not to melt into the floor. I’m starting to see what Mare was talking about when she said there were cute boys here. Maybe I should have spent more time getting ready like she did.

  “I’m Johab from Colorado. What about you?”

  “I’m Kia, from New York.”

  “Do you live near the Statue of Liberty?”

  “No, that’s about six hours away from my house, but I’ve seen it. In fact, I dressed up like it one year for Halloween. My costume was kind of babyish but I didn’t care. I’ll wear anything with a crown.”

  He squints and moves down the line.

  Wow. Maybe he doesn’t like Halloween. Whatever. I don’t care what he thinks of me anyway. I’m going to kick his butt in the finals no matter how cute he is.

  I take some pancakes and pour steaming syrup over them, but once we’re at our table, I try the scrambled apples first. The peppermint slides down my throat, warm and sweet. I decide not to bother with my pancakes after all and go back for another two scoops.

  We’ve just finished eating when Seraphina appears at our table. “Hey it’s my Crimson Kids! I see you’ve tried our famous Scrambled Apples.”

  Ander leans back in his chair. “Those are outstanding.”

  “You can thank Andora for them. They’re her secret creation. But if you’re finished eating, we can head out to meet Gregor. He’s reserved a private room down the hall for our first team meeting.”

  “Finally!” Ander jumps out of his seat. “I was wondering when we’d get to the good stuff.”

  “Me too!” I hurry to the counter to clear my tray, but as I walk away, I can feel someone staring at me. I turn around and see the witch girl from the check-in line yesterday. She’s sitting at the table from Michigan. I pass by her on the way back again, but she doesn’t look away. In fact, she stretches her head to follow me as I catch up to my team. That’s really weird. She knows I saw her watching me. Why doesn’t she look away? No one keeps looking when they’re caught staring.

 

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