by Coco Simon
“Should we try some games after this?” I asked.
“Yes, I want to be on firm ground for a while after—Aaaaaah!” shrieked Sierra as our car swung out again to the edge of the wheel. I laughed like crazy and kept my eyes open this time.
“Bring it on!” I yelled. I was ready for whatever came at me.
Most of the carnival games were rigged so that we wouldn’t win. Even though we knew that, we tried to throw rubber rings onto old Coke bottles, but they all bounced off. We sprayed water into clowns’ mouths, and Allie won a tiny stuffed monkey. We threw softballs at pyramids of other softballs, and I won an inflatable plastic beach ball that was cute and matched my outfit perfectly.
Mr. S. wanted to be sure Sierra won something, so we went to an easy game where you threw a fishing line over a fence and the magnet on it picked up some junky thing on the other side. Sierra won a little plastic purse that she thought was adorable.
After a while we were ready to wrap things up. All the sugar had worn off, so we were tired, and it was getting chilly.
“Are you kids ready to head home?” asked Mr. S. I think he certainly was, but he’d had fun with us, I knew. “One last game?” he asked as we passed El Toro Loco.
“Haha, Mr. S.,” I said. “That game’s impossible. No one wins! You can tell by the prizes!”
The only prizes were giant—and I mean GIANT—stuffed bulls hanging overhead. They were around five feet long and three feet high, with huge felt horns and brown shaggy coats.
Mr. S. laughed. “You’re right. But we might as well use up our last tickets if we have any?”
We all searched our pockets and came up with seven tickets. The game cost six.
“Let’s do it!” he said, walking up to the counter. The game was a simple basketball toss, but you only got one ball. It didn’t look that hard, but it must’ve been rigged somehow, because no one was stopping there to even try.
“Who wants to do it?” asked Allie’s dad.
“No, thanks,” said Allie. “Too much pressure!”
Sierra shook her head. “Me neither. How about Tamiko?”
I shrugged. “It’s totally rigged. There’s no way I’ll win. Maybe you should do it, Mr. S.”
But Allie’s dad shook his head and put the tickets down on the counter. The carnival kid handed him a basketball, and he held it out to me. “Go for it,” he said.
I took a deep breath and focused. I held the ball in one hand and mimed throwing it a few times, just to get the feel of it.
“Come on, Tamiko!” said Allie.
“You can do it, chica!” cheered Sierra.
I bounced the ball once or twice, just to ham it up and get our money’s worth. Then I lifted the ball into the air, and . . . swoosh! It went right into the basket!
“What?” I screamed, turning to my friends in shock. “I won!” We grabbed one another and jumped up and down as a unit, yelling and cheering.
Even the carnival kid was shocked. “I’ve never seen anyone win before!” he said. “I don’t even know how to get the bull down for you!”
He had to call a supervisor and have the lady come over with a stick to lift the giant prize down for me. She let me pick the one I wanted, and I chose the bull with a kind of smushy-looking pug face.
Mr. S. said, “Let me go pull the car up to the entrance so we don’t have to lug that thing all the way though the parking lot.”
As he walked off to the car, I hugged Allie around her neck and said, “Your dad is the best.”
She looked at me and smiled. “He is pretty great, isn’t he?”
Sierra nodded. “He’s that good kind of dad who makes things more fun but isn’t annoyingly in the middle of everything, taking over.”
“Totally,” I agreed. “And he thinks we’re funny.”
Allie glowed happily. “It’s true.”
“This was the best day ever!” I crowed. “And I can’t believe I won El Toro!”
“OMG, where is he going to sit in the car?” Sierra said, and laughed.
“We might have to strap him to the roof!” said Allie.
The car ride back to Bayville was quieter. Sierra fell asleep, and Mr. S. listened to the radio, so we didn’t talk. El Toro was smashed into the cargo area in the back. He was already leaking some tiny Styrofoam pellets. I’d have to sew up his seam when I got home.
I pulled out my notebook and looked over my ice cream notes with satisfaction. Mrs. S. had definitely gotten her money’s worth today. We had a good list of ideas and a side list of market research—of which stands had the longest lines, and which foods the little kids ate the most of. (Fact: they preferred the sweetest flavors over anything else, which was a little boring but true.)
Next I reviewed my list of rides and the sketches I’d done of them. I was definitely thinking I’d do the swings for my project. They illustrated motion and speed and centrifugal force and weren’t as hard to build as a Ferris wheel. I added a few more details to my sketch—estimating the length of the chains on the swings and the size of the swing seats relative to the ride. These were really good notes that would help me when I started my project.
As we reached the outskirts of Bayville, I texted Kai to let him know I was almost there and asked him to come get me. He texted me back one letter, K, and I put my phone away in my rucksack.
As we pulled up outside Molly’s Ice Cream, I could see that it was hopping. Lots of people were going in and out, and it made me feel good.
“We might have to help mom!” Allie said to her dad, peering out the car window.
“I’ll park, and we can go in and check. But first let’s help Tamiko with El Toro,” said Mr. S.
Mr. S. popped open the tailgate as we climbed out of the car.
“Poor El Toro!” I cried. The stuffed bull was all squished.
“Where can we put him?” asked Mr. S.
I looked around, but Kai hadn’t arrived yet. “How about if I just wait out here on the bench?” I suggested. “Assuming Mrs. S. doesn’t need my help in the store.”
“I’ll run in and check,” said Sierra. “Be right back.”
Mr. S. helped me carry El Toro to the bench as Allie closed the tailgate. Mr. S. was laughing. “Your parents are going to kill me for letting you bring this thing home! Where are you going to put him?” he asked.
“In my room! He’ll be like a beanbag chair. I can sit on him.”
Mr. S. laughed again. “I knew you’d have a plan, Tamiko!”
“Thanks!”
Mr. S. settled El Toro on the bench as if the bull were a customer. I sat down next to him. Then four things happened all at once:
Sierra popped out to say that she and Allie would help Mrs. S. with the store, so I was free to take El Toro home.
Kai pulled up in front of the store to pick me up.
Allie jumped out of her dad’s car holding my notebook, which I’d left behind.
And Ewan and his friends Jake and Connor came walking up and said hi to me as they entered Molly’s. Ewan’s eyes grew huge when he saw El Toro, so I hustled into Kai’s car because I was so embarrassed.
And with all those distractions, plus wedging El Toro into the car, that was how I left my idea notebook on the bench.
CHAPTER NINE
BOOKLESS
It wasn’t until I’d gotten home, settled El Toro into a corner of my room, showered, and gotten into my cozy sweats that I realized the notebook was missing.
“Shoot!” I said as I punched the contact for Molly’s on my phone. I knew exactly where I’d left it—on the bench outside the store. After my graceless exit with El Toro in front of Ewan, I’d just wanted to peel out of there ASAP, and I’d forgotten to go back and get it.
“Molly’s Ice Cream. Allie speaking,” said Allie when she picked up on the other end.
“Ali-li! Thanks for an amazing day!” I cried into the phone.
“It was super-fun, wasn’t it?” she agreed.
“Totes. Listen. If you c
an please bring my notebook home with you, I’ll stop by first thing tomorrow to pick it up, okay? Are you at your mom’s or dad’s tonight?”
“Wait, what?”
“My notebook. I left it on the bench outside the store. Someone must’ve brought it inside, right?” Suddenly my hands felt icy. “Right?”
“Um, I’m not sure. Hang on.” Allie put her hand over the phone receiver, but I could still hear her asking everyone. She got back on. “No one brought it in. Let me run and get it. It’s probably still on the bench. Hang on again, okay?”
“Yup,” I said. “Thanks.” I could picture the notebook sitting on the bench, and I thanked my lucky stars that it wasn’t raining out, or that thing would have been totally ruined. I looked at my fingernails as I waited. Maybe I’d do a fun manicure after this. Something carnival-themed.
“Miko?” said Allie.
“Got it?”
“Um . . . no. It wasn’t there. I’m so sorry!”
“Wait, what?” My stomach dropped, even worse than on the swinging Ferris wheel car. “Are you sure you looked really carefully? Like, behind the bench, or maybe someone put it on the window ledge. . . .”
“Tamiko, I’m so sorry. I really looked all over. Even in the tree bed by the curb and on top of the fire hydrant and all around. It’s . . . gone.”
“Oh no.” I sat down heavily on El Toro. “What am I going to do?”
I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. Allie assured me that they’d keep looking and that some customer must’ve picked it up and surely it would be returned any minute.
I didn’t have a lot of confidence in that outcome. After I hung up with Allie, I started mentally reviewing all the project ideas I had in that book, not to mention all my best carnival stickers that I’d used on the cover. There was all our ice cream research—which Mrs. S. had paid for—and losing that made me an irresponsible employee. And of course all my info for the science project was in there: the sketches, the dimension estimates, the ratios, the scientific concepts. All missing.
And worst of all, of course, were the pages and pages of drawings of Ewan Kim. I cringed, thinking of kids flipping through and laughing. They’d probably assume I was doodling pictures of my crush, since I had recently learned that drawing someone was an “obvious” indication that you liked them.
I ran down the stairs. “Kai! Kai!”
“In here!” he called from the TV room, where he was doing his homework. “What’s the matter? You sound frantic, dude.”
“That’s because I am frantic. Can you please, please give me a ride back to Molly’s? I lost something and just have to go check for myself that it’s not there.”
“Seriously, Tamiko? I just got all settled in to write a draft of my midterm paper for AP Economics. Do we really need to go right now?”
My eyes welled up. “Yes.”
Kai looked at me and sighed heavily. “Fine.” He wasn’t happy about it, but he stood up and walked to the front hall, where he grabbed his car keys and jammed his feet into his Allbirds sneakers. “Let’s go.”
I was quiet in the car, thinking of all the wrong hands my notebook could have fallen into. A toddler who got the pages all sticky. A busy mom who spilled her coffee milkshake onto it. Some slob who tore out pages and used them to blow his nose. A terrible thought occurred to me. What if someone who knew Ewan had found it? Oh no! They’d probably show him the pictures, and they’d all think I was in love with him and would have a huge belly laugh at my expense.
I put my hands over my eyes.
“Are you okay?” asked Kai.
Sighing, I shook my head. “There was a lot of stuff in that notebook that I need.”
Kai bit his lip. “Anything I can help you with?”
“No.” I shook my head. “But thanks,” I added.
Outside Molly’s, I looked everywhere for the notebook. It was hard to look for something at dusk, and I had to use the flashlight on my phone to see. I checked under the bench, on the sidewalk. I even peeked inside the trash can to see if someone had thrown it away. Mrs. S. was the only person inside the store. I didn’t want her to see me, or I’d have to confess that I’d lost all our research.
Allie was right, though. The notebook wasn’t there.
Back in the car, Kai offered to take me to Sushirrito, one of my favorite restaurants, where they serve a mash-up of sushi and burritos. But after all the junk I’d had at Felton Pier, and thinking about my current tragedy, I declined. We went home and had salads from the fridge, and I did not give myself a carnival-themed manicure. Instead I tried to finish my math worksheet, but I kept getting distracted.
I pulled out my phone and sent a text in the group chat I shared with Allie and Sierra. Any good news?
Allie wrote back right away. No, sorry . No one dropped off your notebook.
What happened? Did you lose your notebook? Sierra chimed in.
I filled Sierra in on the situation. She was super-nice about it and didn’t get mad. Still, I felt terrible about losing all of our hard work.
I also told them about losing the science project info, but not about the sketches of Ewan. The last thing I wanted right now was for my besties to think I had a crush on him.
Losing my notebook was the worst ending to an otherwise amazing day. I tried to remember all the good things that had happened: the delicious food, the fun rides, the prizes I’d won. But all my thoughts ended up on the lost notebook. I went to sleep early, my pillow damp with tears.
The next morning I woke up early and started a huge internet search for the details and specifications of carnival swing rides. When I took a break, my mom asked how my homework was going, and I explained that it was hard to re-create the project without my notes. She offered to drive me back to Felton Pier, but I declined. I had to be at work by twelve forty-five, and there just wasn’t enough time for it to be worthwhile. My mom wondered aloud if I could miss a day of work, since it was for academic reasons, but I imagined my friends’ faces if I’d canceled, and I just couldn’t do it. They’d think I was avoiding work because I’d lost our research.
I hugged her hard anyway.
“Thanks, Mama,” I said. No “Ayumi” this time. I wasn’t in the mood to tease her when she was being so nice to me.
I trudged back upstairs to keep googling and to work on some mock-ups. It was tough because I really needed an extra pair of hands to hold things in place while I added the central supports. I didn’t want to ask my parents for help quite yet. In the past they had just taken over and gotten all bossy and annoying.
While I worked, I kept a blank sheet of paper next to me and tried to remember our flavor research. Each time something popped into my head, I wrote it down. Frozen Lemonade. Hot Chocolate Marshmallow. Cola. I had an easier time remembering the ones we’d come up with first and last, but all the stuff in the middle—when we’d really been jamming—was kind of a muddle.
My phone pinged with a text, and I dove for it, expecting to see a text from Allie saying that someone had turned in my idea notebook at the store.
Instead it was a text from my friend Keiko, who used to go to Japanese school with me. She and our other good friend Ken had basically become boyfriend-girlfriend, kind of behind my back, and it really bugged me. It wrecked our whole friendship trio.
The text said, Miko! Ken hasn’t texted me in three days! Do you think he doesn’t like me anymore?
“ARRRGGHH!” I yelled.
How the heck would I know what Ken is thinking? If I were psychic, I’d know where my notebook is!
After an hour of brainstorming for my science project, my craft table looked like a war zone. There were half-built swings and balled-up chunks of cardboard, and little tubs of clay and paint open everywhere. I was stumped. I cleaned up a little, then had some lunch and got ready to go to work.
My feet dragged as I slunk toward Molly’s. If I’d been a dog, I would have had my tail between my legs. I dreaded facing Mrs. S. and telling her I’d
carelessly lost all our valuable research.
Inside, Allie was there, and she didn’t say anything. Just came and gave me a huge hug.
Sierra showed up soon after and did the same. Then Sierra said, “Let’s make a list of all the flavors we can remember, okay? It’ll be kind of fun! Like a memory game!”
Half-heartedly I accepted a piece of paper and a pen from her, and we began naming everything we could think of. I wrote:
• Cola
• Frozen Lemonade
• Bratwurst Brickle! (Haha)
• Pistachio Cream
• Fried Pickle
And so on, until we had seventeen flavors listed.
“Guys! That’s not too bad!” said Sierra.
“Not at all,” said Allie. “And maybe the other flavors will come to us. The most important ones were Hot Chocolate Marshmallow—because that drew a crowd—and Caramel Apple. But what were the details for Caramel Apple again?”
“A huge cable of caramel!” crowed Sierra.
“And chopped green apple on top. I can remember that!” I said. “Group hug, besties! Thanks for helping me to remember. I’ll keep thinking of the others.”
“You know what they say! Three heads are better than one!” said Sierra.
“So true,” I agreed. “Now, should we edit down the list to just our recommendations, or leave everything on it?”
“Let’s leave it all,” Sierra said. “Then Allie’s mom will know how hard we worked.”
“If that was hard work, sign me up to be the CEO!” Allie said, laughing.
“Should we wait to present it next week, when we’ve had some more time? And maybe the notebook will have turned up?” suggested Sierra.
Allie nodded. “Sure. I don’t think my mom minds either way. She’s got a pretty good stockpile of flavors in the deep freeze for now.”
My phone pinged, and because there were no customers in the store and because I was still hoping someone would return my notebook, I took a peek.
