We realize we have a lot more to do if we’re going to morph our old solution into our new one. Mare comes to the rescue and helps us organize. She assigns us each something to be in charge of. Jax has already planned a way to put the metal stand back together and make the wooden circle spin. We’ve named it the Circle Spinner.
Ander takes charge of the new computer program that we’ve named the Ancestor App. His job is to input all the facts we’ve researched about our relatives or ancestors. We have to be sure the ghost-like images of the people who lived long before we did will come to life in front of the judges. We also challenge him to find a good way to show it up on the stage.
I’m in charge of the script—again. I need to find a way to re-write this play using the Circle Spinner. We’re going to have to make it start in one position and then make it change at least three times before it goes back to its original position. I’m not sure yet how to do that.
Jillian updates our costumes. We work side by side so that she knows how our characters are changing and how to dress them. Mare takes care of the paperwork. Now that our solution has changed, she’ll have to rewrite how we used skills from all six categories to solve the task. I ask her to work with Jillian and me. We need her to help us put these ideas all together.
Mabel has been working overtime. We have no time to go to the dining hall so we’ve programmed her to bring our lunch and dinner boxes. Cold sandwiches aren’t our first choice, but it doesn’t matter. My teammates want to win this competition as much as I do now!
By the time we’ve packed up our dinner boxes and stored them inside Mabel’s dress pocket for the trash, the glue has dried on our Circle Spinner. We divide it into five sections from the middle with strips of red duct tape. Red is the color of Crimson Elementary so that’s our unanimous choice. Now that our circle looks like a pie chart, we each pick a section to decorate, using our favorite colors and our team mantra: Be Curious, Be Creative, Be Collaborative, Be Colorful, and Be Courageous.
We use the materials left over from our smashed Ghost Gallery to decorate around the words. When we’ve finished all the gluing, Jillian stands up to get a better look. “It’s like a piece of artwork.”
I unstick my fingers. She’s right, but something’s missing. I’m just not sure what it is. I can feel something forming in my brain, but it doesn’t turn into an idea. I take a breath and try to be patient. It takes a few seconds of staring but then I realize. We need something in the center, something that pulls each of us together as a team.
“But what?” Mare asks when I tell them my idea. “We could write Crimson Five in the center since everyone is obsessed with calling us that but besides that, what else do we all have in common?”
“This competition,” says Jax.
I snap my fingers. “That’s it.”
“What could we use to show that?” asks Jillian.
“What if we display the Ancestor App in the center somehow? We used all the skills in our team mantra to create it.” Jax explains.
“That’s perfect!” I say. “But how do we display it?”
Ander walks around the table twirling a pencil. “I have to think about that.”
***
We spend the next few days working out the details of our new solution. Eventually, the metal bracket gets put back together, and we attach our Circle Spinner to it. Jax is a genius. The circle spins and everything. With Jillian and Mare’s help, I change the lines in our script. Our play is now about a little girl who wonders what she’ll be like when she grows up. She stumbles upon a magical place where the townspeople tell her how they figured out what they would be like when they were younger.
That’s where our Circle Spinner comes in. The spinner starts in the upright position, at “Be Curious,” the place where all children begin as they ask themselves this question. Then as each character helps the little girl, they rotate the spinner and explain to her how important it is to understand her past, using one of the words on our spinner, before she can move on to her future. Then they show an image of one of their ancestors who have similar personality traits to them. They explain to the little girl that by using the circle spinner, she can get a glimpse into her past so that she might get a glimpse into her future too. At the very end, the Circle Spinner returns to its original position at “Be Curious,” just like the rules require.
Jillian fixes the original language by changing the lines but keeping the motions the same. I try to rewrite the finale song, but it’s really hard, and I get stuck. I need the rest of my teammates too. They help me change it, and then we all try to help Ander with the Ancestor App. But all he can do is throw his arms back behind his head. “I just can’t find a way to display the Ancestor App on the center of the Circle Spinner. Every time I try to, the paint and duct tape block the images. It’s not a good back drop.”
“But we have to project those images onto the spinner. That’s the key to our rotating object,” I say. “Otherwise, all we have is a spinning circle with words and pieces of wood glued all over it.
“What if we cover the center with something, like maybe the fabric scraps over there,” Jax suggests.
“We can try it,” says Ander.
Jillian throws Jax a pile of pink fabric and he holds some of it in front of the spinner.
Ander directs the app to project onto it by pushing the invisible buttons. Nothing appears, and he huffs out a breath.
“See? I don’t know what else to do!”
Jax walks closer to the spinner. “How do you think the app transmits the image?”
My teammates look at each other. I know this. I’m sure we learned this in math. “It’s digital,” I explain. “You must have to program it to find some sort of binary code.”
“What’s binary code?” asks Mare.
“It’s a series of zeros and ones. They can be transmitted through the airwaves. That’s how our cell phones work.”
“Then why can’t they transmit onto the paint or fabric?” asks Ander.
“That’s because those aren’t transmitters for digital code,” I explain. “You need something like, let me think. Metal!
“We have a lot of that left over,” says Jax. “Let’s use some of the cranks and brackets. We could attach those to the center and then transmit the images right on it.”
“I’ll try it,” says Ander. Jillian and Mare hold a few pieces up as a test. Ander enters in the information for Jillian’s great aunt. The image is blurry, but it’s there.
“That’s better but it’s not bright enough,” says Ander. “I don’t know how to make it clearer.”
My head starts to hurt. We are so close. This new solution is way better than I imagined, but not like this. If the judges and people in the audience can’t see the ancestor images, they won’t understand what we’re looking at. Our play won’t make any sense. There has to be something that will conduct zeros and ones better than regular metal. But what’s a better conductor than metal? My brain swirls. I start to bite my nails but then I stop. Gold. Gold is a better conductor than metal.
“I’ve got it, you guys! I know what to do. We can attach a Golden Light Bulb to the spinner. The app needs gold!”
***
We walk onto the field in silence. I think my teammates are imagining the Ancestor App with my Golden Light Bulb glued to the center. We have to change our focus though. It’s time for the Nacho Cheese Ball Finals! We watch Team Rhode Island march out in matching uniforms. They look like a professional sports team—two boys and three girls. I catch Ander’s eye. He doesn’t seem to have a plan—and neither do I. Other teams from all over the country are holding up signs. Some for Rhode Island. Some for New York. Seraphina walks across the grass and stands near the scoreboard.
The whistle blows. I guess we’re going to wing it. A girl with big muscles in her legs plows by me. It takes me a second to react. By the
time I do, her whole team has beaten us out of the neutral zone. They fire shots at our target, and before we can even get to them, the score is two hundred fifty one to zero. We fire back, bringing their score down to two hundred and seven, and force them back to the neutral zone.
My team sprints toward their target and get some points up on the board. One hundred eighty to be exact. They clobber us with glob after glob, and we have no choice but to retreat. The crowd cheers as we bounce back and forth from their target to ours and back again. I run by Ander. His face is covered in cheese, except for two holes for his eyes, but I don’t see the usual fire in them. I don’t feel it in myself either.
The whistle blows after the longest game of the summer, and we are not the winners. Rhode Island is crowned Nacho Cheese Ball Champions. We walk over to them looking more orange than ever, shake their hands, and accept our runner-up medals—a bucket with a scoop in it. We walk off the field together looking like astronauts thrown off the moon.
“The best team won,” Ander shrugs. “I guess they wanted it more than we did.”
“At least we made it to the finals,” says Jax.
“Yeah,” I say, skipping off the field. “And in two more days, we’re going to make it to the finals again. The one that really matters.”
QUARTER ’TIL TOMORROW
The girls and I stayed up way past lights out last night. We knew it was against the rules, but we had to learn our new lines and practice our dance. Time was practically up. It wasn’t so easy trying to whisper and dance silently in the dark, but we did it. Who needs sleep anyway? We could sleep when the competition was over.
This morning, I step through the Meeting Room Twelve doorway, and I remember how I felt the first time I walked into this room—like I couldn’t wait to start solving our task, but I worried we wouldn’t ever agree or work well together. Today, I can’t wait to practice our amazing solution as a united team. I guess we have come a long way.
We’ll have until dinner time tonight, when our families finally get here, to practice. Seraphina has planned a big party! Gregor didn’t want her to because he said we needed our rest for Rehearsal Judging, but she convinced him that after all our hard work this summer, we deserve a celebration no matter how the judges score us tomorrow.
He has arranged to have our costumes, sets, and props transported here. He said he wants to keep our stuff safe, especially after what happened in the shed. And that’s a relief. We can’t have another disaster happen.
We grab our costume bags and scatter to the hallway bathrooms. I slip into my yellow overalls, minus the ragged pieces, and brush my hair into pigtails. After removing some of the tattered pieces of fabric on her own costume, and adding more sparkly pink fabric to her dress, Jillian has turned herself into Madam Sparkles, the dramatic townsperson who chats with all newcomers to the magical land of Crimson Catroplis. Mare has changed too and is now a mystical teenager, snapping her gum and staring at her reflection in the Circle Spinner’s metal bracket.
We meet up with the boys in the hallway. Ander puts on his funky hat and bows to us, now looking like a court jester—like one of those clowns who could entertain the whole town. Jax, the Gate Keeper, flares his cape and smiles a little bit. His face doesn’t even get pink.
Back in Meeting Room Twelve, Seraphina gasps. “You guys look spectacular!”
“Thanks Seraphina!” I squeal, skipping around the room. “We do, don’t we?” My teammates skip behind me until Gregor clears his throat. Loud.
“It’s quite early to celebrate—don’t you agree?”
I know he’s right so I stop skipping.
Seraphina ignores him and grabs a small box. “I have my timer ready. I’m going to sit in those seats with Gregor. We’ll pretend we’re the judges. Tomorrow the audience will be seated behind them. When I say, ‘New York team, time begins now,’ you’ll quickly carry your spinner and other props to the judging area and begin.”
We scurry to our assigned spots. Mare and Jillian go to each side of our team sign. We’ve decorated it with the word, New York, a picture of the statue of Liberty made out of torn up newspapers, a picture of our school, Crimson Elementary, drawn out of duct tape, and in the center we’ve painted out our question, What will I be like when I grow up? Jax and Ander grab onto either side of the metal base on the Circle Spinner, and I grab hold of the wooden circle to keep it steady.
Out of nowhere, Ander starts dancing around the spinner. “Look at me in my fancy pants. I’m ready to do my crazy dance!”
I try not to laugh, but I can’t help it. Gregor clears his throat. Again. Seraphina raises her timer. “Okay very funny, Ander. Let’s focus now. Team, are you ready?”
Ander yells out to her in one of his many random voices, “Yup dee dup dup dup. We’re ready to show you our Team Circle!” The rest of us burst out laughing.
Gregor stands up. “Ander, I thought you were going to focus.”
Gregor seriously has no sense of humor.
“Sorry,” he says.
“Wait!” says Seraphina. “Don’t be sorry. That was great. If the judges ask your team if you’re ready, I want you to sing that altogether.”
“Are you sure?” Mare asks.
“Yes, I’m sure. They won’t be expecting that.”
“That’s good,” says Jillian. “Then that will make us memorable!”
We stand very still and wait for her signal. When she asks if we’re ready, we chant, “Yup dee dup dup dup, we’re ready to show you our Team Circle!”
Seraphina puts her finger on the timer. “New York Team . . . begin.”
We sing a short version of our finale song as we wheel out our Circle Spinner and Team Sign. Once they’re set up in the right spots, we scurry behind the Circle Spinner so we can’t be seen. Then, I skip out first, inside the pretend taped off area and look at Seraphina and Gregor as if I’ve just stumbled upon a strange place.
“Where am I?” I say in a slow, loud voice. “This doesn’t look at all like Crimson Elementary, but where could I be?”
Ander jumps out from the other side of the spinner. “Where could you be? Well, Small Person, I will tell you where you could be! You have entered the magical, mystical land of Crimson Catropolis and I am Freddie Dinkleweed.”
“Freddie Dinkleweed?” I repeat.
He spins on his heel. “At your service.”
I open my arms in confusion. “I think I’m lost. One minute I’m at school trying to find the answer to a question and then—poof, I’m very far away from home.”
“Welcome!” calls Jax, creeping out from behind the spinner. “I am the Gate Keeper. Freddie forgets that it’s my job to welcome visitors.”
Ander dances a short jig and slaps Jax on the back. “The Gate Keeper has control issues.”
Jax ignores him. “Hello, Small Person. I am certain I know what question you were asking.”
I place my hands on my hips. “How would you know that?”
Jillian twirls out from behind the spinner and places her hands on my shoulders. “Oh, Dahling, we all know what your question is. It’s the question all children ask. I wanted to know the answer when I was small like you too.”
Mare struts out from the other side and leans against the corner of the spinner. “Me, too. I always asked, ‘What will I be like when I grow up?”’
“Yes!” I jump up and down. “That’s my question. That’s my question! I want to know what I’ll be like when I grow up!”
“Of course, you do,” says Jax. “That’s where we come in.”
“That’s right,” Ander sings. “We’re here to help. Yes, we are. Yes, we are. We’re here to help . . . aren’t we Madam Sparkles?” He slides over to her, his face two inches from her face.
She crinkles her nose and waves him away. “Get away, Freddie. Please get away.”
He sulks back to the spinn
er.
“What do you mean when you say, ‘You’re here to help me?’” I ask.
Jax flares his cape. “We mean this magical place is here to help you. Crimson Catropolis is the place all children come to find the answer to that question.”
“But how did I get here?” I ask.
“You knew the way the whole time. Now follow me.”
Ander jumps out from behind the spinner. “It’s spinner time! It’s spinner time!”
Teenager Mare waves her arm as if to introduce the giant spinning wheel. Madam Sparkles throws her feather boa over her shoulder and spins it. Ander slides over to me. “Pay close attention, Small Person. This is where it gets fun. It’s time for the Great Golden Light Bulb Spin.”
My eyes grow big. “Will this tell me what I’ll be like when I grow up?”
Ander motions so that he can whisper in my ear. “More,” he says. “It will tell you even more.”
We say the rest of our lines, all while Seraphina times us. When we say our last one, she jumps to her feet. “Oh my gosh! That was awesome, awesome, awesome! You even used a Golden Light Bulb. Guys! That app thing is genius! How did you ever think of that?”
Gregor claps real slow.
I should have known he wouldn’t like it, but then his serious face turns into a sort of grin. “Bravo, Crimson Five. Bravo. Now that is a solution worthy of your team.”
“You liked it?” I ask. “Really?” It’s a miracle!
Ander takes off his hat. “Do you really think it was good? I messed up one of my lines.”
“Me too,” I admit.
“And I was late spinning the spinner,” says Jillian.
Gregor waves his arms. “I knew you had the ability to create something special—I just knew it! And don’t worry about those small details—we can fix them. We have the rest of the day. We will practice until it’s right. Just focus. You will get it right.”
Spin the Golden Light Bulb Page 16
