by Lisa Graff
On the other side of the curtain, the orchestra began to play. The ballerinas scrambled to their places.
Julia was worried.
What if Daisy really did fall over?
What if Madame Robespierre really did chop off her baby toes?
Was that why Sophie had asked Julia to come? Was that the big scoop she’d been talking about?
Just before the curtain rose, Julia noticed something across the stage. On the side opposite her, crouching under a folding table just like she was, there was a small, blond person.
Not just any small, blond person.
Sophie Simon.
Sophie was reading a book.
The curtain went up, and the audience cheered. The lights were bright and the music was loud.
Julia could see Daisy’s parents in the very first row.
The ballerinas began to twirl, their giant, ugly hats spinning above them.
They twirled once.
They twirled twice.
Three times they twirled.
And four.
And five.
Daisy, so far, had not fallen over.
Julia wanted to write LOTS OF TWIRLING in her notebook, but she was too busy staring at Daisy.
On the one hand, Julia really really did NOT want Daisy to fall over. If Daisy fell over, she was going to be two toes short of a full set. And that would be a very bad thing.
On the other hand, Julia really really DID want Daisy to fall over. If Daisy fell over, there would definitely be something newsworthy to write about. And that would be a very good thing.
This, Julia thought, was what Miss Harbinger would call “a reporter’s dilemma.”
As she finished the tenth twirl, Daisy Pete began to look queasy.
On the fifteenth twirl, her face was as green as a toad’s.
On the seventeenth twirl, the tip of the tower on top of her hat began to wobble.
On the eighteenth twirl, it wibbled.
And on the nineteenth twirl, in front of Madame Robespierre and her parents and everyone, Daisy Pete fell right smack on the ground.
The hat tumbled off her head and onto the stage.
The Eiffel Tower broke in half.
Julia gasped.
The audience gasped.
The ballerinas gasped.
The orchestra stopped playing, and the girls onstage stopped dancing.
Daisy Pete looked like she was going to cry.
Everyone was waiting—waiting, waiting, waiting—to see what would happen.
But just as Madame Robespierre leaped out of her seat—to chop off Daisy’s baby toes, or possibly worse—Julia heard a holler from the other side of the stage.
“Remember what I told you!” the voice bellowed.
It was Sophie Simon, her fists balled up at her waist.
All of the ballerinas turned to look at her.
“Remember!” she shouted to them. “Fight for what’s right! Just follow Daisy!”
And just like that, every single one of the ballerinas hiked up her tutu and sat down on the stage to join Daisy where she lay in a crumbled heap.
Madame Robespierre bounded up the stage steps two at a time.
She did not look pleased.
“WHAT IS GO-ING ON?” she hollered at her dancers.
Daisy sat up slowly. She looked at Madame Robespierre, and for the first time all night, Julia thought she didn’t look afraid.
Julia placed her pencil over her notebook and got ready.
Something important was about to happen, she just knew it.
Daisy smiled at Madame Robespierre, a slow stretch of a smile that showed all her teeth.
“Madame Robespierre,” Daisy said. “We’re not going to dance anymore. Not until your”—Daisy glanced over at Sophie—“until your tyrannical domination over this dance company has ceased.”
The audience began to murmur, and Julia did her best to spell TYRANNICAL DOMINATION in her notebook.
Madame Robespierre glared at Daisy.
“What is zese joke?” she hissed at her.
“It’s not a joke,” Daisy said, firmer this time. “We’re staging a sit-in.”
The other girls nodded.
“By sitting on the stage.”
“A SEET-IN!” Madame hollered. Pound! “Ballerinas do not seet!” Pound! “Zey dance!”
Madame shouted at the orchestra to start playing again. But even as the music swelled around them, the ballerinas refused to dance.
They just sat.
Julia could see the people in the audience shaking their heads and whispering to each other.
“DANCE!” Madame screeched. She tried to lift Daisy to her feet, but Daisy’s body hung like a limp noodle, and she refused to stand up.
Madame tried to lift the other girls, but they made their bodies limp, too.
They didn’t look much like ballerinas, Julia thought.
They looked more like boiled broccoli.
Not one of the dancers was going to dance.
Now this, Julia thought, was a news story.
Julia set down her notebook and picked up her camera. As Madame pounded her stick on the ground, trying to haul her dancers to their feet at the same time, Julia clicked photographs.
Click!
Pound!
Click!
Pound!
Click click click!
POUND!
“YOU ARE ZEE BALLERINAS!” Madame Robespierre bellowed. Her hair was flying from her bun in frightening wisps. “YOU WILL DANCE!”
Julia took another photo.
One by one, parents rose from their seats and climbed to the stage to scoop their pink-tutued daughters into their arms and walk out of the theater.
And as they exited the stage, Julia noticed that each girl handed Sophie Simon what appeared to be a five-dollar bill.
* * *
By the time Mr. and Mrs. Pete got to the stage, Daisy was the last ballerina left.
“Madame Robespierre,” Mr. Pete said. “I think I speak for everyone in this town when I say that my daughter will not be attending your school of dance ever again. I’ll be talking to the school board immediately and asking for your resignation. Your days in this business are over.”
He turned to Daisy then, and held out a hand for her.
Daisy slowly rose to her feet.
She bent carefully at the waist.
She took a long, deep bow.
The audience went wild with applause.
Julia couldn’t help but smile as Madame Robespierre ran off the stage.
She knew for a fact that her story was going to make the paper this time. She even had the perfect headline.
ROBESPIERRE GETS THE AX.
Now, she thought, if only she could figure out a way for her best friend, Owen, to get that rabbit he’d been wanting for his birthday …
The Lemur at the Pool Party
Sophie’s parents often drove Sophie bananas.
But they had never driven Sophie more bananas than on that Sunday afternoon, as they dropped her off at Owen Luu’s birthday party.
“Oh, dill pickle!” Sophie’s mother gushed as they walked into the backyard. Kids were already swimming and splashing in the pool. The girls were wearing bathing suits, and the boys were wearing swim trunks. Everyone was giggling and happy and looked thrilled to be at a birthday pool party.
Everyone, that is, except Owen and Sophie.
Owen was wearing green dolphin trunks with a dress shirt and tie.
Sophie had cargo pants on over her swimsuit, and her pockets were stuffed with objects she’d sneaked from home.
Very, very strange objects.
Objects she thought might come in handy.
“Oh, isn’t this exciting, jelly bean?” Sophie’s mother went on. “You’re going to have so much fun!”
Sophie rolled her eyes to the right. She had not come to the party to have fun.
“Yes, biscuit!” Sophie’s father exclaimed. “I think this wil
l be the perfect place for you to make some friends!”
Sophie rolled her eyes to the left. She had not come to the party to make friends.
Sophie Simon had come to the birthday party to make sure Owen got his rabbit.
Then he would give her twenty dollars, and Sophie could finally buy the graphing calculator of her dreams.
The Pembo Q-60.
The latest model.
She turned to her parents.
“Mom?” she said. “Dad? Can you guys leave now?”
“Oh, Maxwell,” Sophie’s mother said to her husband. “Did you hear that? Our little pudding pop wants nothing to do with us.” She wiped away a tear. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
Sophie’s father nodded. “She’s pushing away her caretakers,” he said. “Just like Doctor Wanda was talking about last Wednesday.”
“Our little banana cream pie is finally becoming well-adjusted.”
“Mom?” Sophie said. “Dad? Seriously, will you leave?”
“Of course, my darling little lettuce wedge,” her father said. “Here.” He handed Sophie a sparkly blue gift bag. “Don’t forget Owen’s present. I hope he likes what you picked out.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Sophie said.
She wasn’t listening.
She was looking around for Daisy.
“Goodbye, my apple crumble!” her mother said, kissing her on the left cheek.
“Have fun, wonton!” her father said, kissing her on the right cheek.
Sophie waited for her parents to leave, and then she wiped off both her cheeks. An “apple crumble” plus a “wonton” was enough to make her seriously ill.
Sophie spotted Daisy by the present table. She was leaning over a wooden crate, making chirping noises.
Either Daisy had lost her mind, Sophie thought, or inside that crate was a ring-tailed lemur.
She went over to see which it was.
“Hi, Sophie!” Daisy called to her. “Do you want to meet Lenny the Lemur?”
Sophie bent down and peeked through the slats of the crate.
Staring back at her was a ring-tailed lemur. It looked just like the one Sophie had seen in the flyer outside the pet store.
The lemur had very short ears.
The lemur had a long, bushy tail.
“Yap!”
The lemur had a very noisy yap.
“Perfect,” Sophie said.
Lenny the Lemur was the exact opposite of a rabbit.
“Where did you get him?” she asked Daisy.
Daisy poked a finger through the crate to rub Lenny’s fur. “My cousin Matilda runs a rescue center for exotic animals. She’s letting me borrow him for the day.”
Sophie nodded. “And Mrs. Luu thinks this is the pet your parents picked for Owen?”
“Yep,” Daisy said.
“Yap!” Lenny yapped.
“And your parents don’t suspect anything?”
“Nope,” Daisy said. “I told them Owen’s mom called and said she changed her mind.”
“Yap!” Lenny yapped.
“I think,” Sophie said, “that everything will work out perfectly.”
When all of the guests had arrived, Mrs. Luu told them they were going to open presents first.
Owen began to unwrap his gifts. Everyone crowded around him to see what presents he got.
Everyone, that is, except Sophie.
Sophie didn’t care what presents Owen got. Unless he unwrapped a graphing calculator, she wasn’t interested.
Owen did not unwrap a graphing calculator.
He unwrapped board games and card games and video games and loads of other stuff that Sophie found extremely boring.
From Julia, he got a box of rabbit food.
From Daisy, he got a rabbit cage.
From Sophie, he got an empty blue bag.
Owen turned the bag upside down.
“Where’s my present?” he asked.
“Oh,” Sophie said. “I guess I forgot to put it in there. But you can keep the bag if you want.”
“Um, thanks,” Owen said.
“You’re welcome,” Sophie told him.
Mrs. Luu clapped her hands together. “And now, Owen,” she said, “it’s time to give you my present.”
She pulled the crate out from under the table.
She pried off the lid.
Inside was Lenny the Lemur.
At last, Sophie thought. Now things were getting interesting.
Lenny leaped out of the crate and scrambled onto Owen’s shoulder, cuddling in the nook by his neck.
Owen looked like he’d rather spend an hour on the tilt-a-whirl after drinking a barrel of pickle juice than be snuggled around the neck by a ring-tailed lemur.
“Isn’t he fantastic, Owen?” Mrs. Luu cried. “It’s exactly what you wanted!”
“I-I … It’s … I…” Lenny was licking his claws and staring at Owen. Owen gulped. “It-it … I…”
Sophie poked him in the side.
“It’s perfect,” Owen said. He gulped again. “It’s exactly the exact same pet I wanted. Exactly.”
“I knew you would love it!” Mrs. Luu exclaimed. “Now! Time for cake!”
While Mrs. Luu lit the candles, Sophie thought about the most recent book she’d checked out from the library.
Fascinating Facts About Ring-Tailed Lemurs
She thought about one chapter in particular.
“The Diet of the Ring-Tailed Lemur”
There were lots of interesting bits of information in that chapter, but there was one fact that Sophie had found especially fascinating:
One of a lemur’s favorite snacks is grasshoppers.
Mrs. Luu finished lighting the candles.
Sophie scooched to the very back of the crowd of kids, far away from Mrs. Luu.
“Everybody sing!” Mrs. Luu called out.
“Happy birthday to you!” they all sang.
Sophie reached inside her right pocket.
“Happy birthday to you!”
She pulled out a handful of grasshoppers she’d found in her yard.
“Happy birthday, dear Owen!”
She tossed the grasshoppers up in the air, and they landed—plunk plunk plunk plunk—right on top of the cake.
“Happy bir—”
“YAP!”
Lenny the Lemur leaped from Owen’s shoulder and pounced onto the cake, trying to grab the grasshoppers.
He snuffed out the candles.
“Yap!”
The cake toppled over.
“Yap!”
Fur and frosting went flying.
“Yap!”
“Owen, your birthday cake!” Mrs. Luu screamed. She yanked Lenny out of the frosting and dropped him on the grass. “I spent seventeen hours perfecting the icing! And now it’s ruined!”
Sophie smiled.
“Th-that’s okay, Mom,” Owen said slowly. “I don’t mind. That lemur is the exact pet I exactly wanted. Exactly.”
Mrs. Luu sniffed. “Well,” she said, examining the frosted, ice creamy lemur at her feet. “Okay then. I’m glad you’re so happy. I guess it’s time for the high-dive contest.”
While Mrs. Luu led the children to the diving board, Sophie scooped up Lenny the Lemur and set him on her shoulder.
Lenny licked his cakey claws, and Sophie winked at him.
Sophie thought about another chapter in the book about lemurs.
“The Social Habits of the Ring-Tailed Lemur”
There were tons of exciting pieces of information in that chapter, but there was one fact that Sophie had found especially remarkable:
When lemurs get cold, they like to warm their bellies in the sun. They can stay perfectly still for hours.
Mrs. Luu snapped her fingers. “Everybody in line for the diving board!” she cried.
Everyone lined up behind the diving board ladder.
Sophie stood at the back of the line, Lenny perched on her shoulder.
She reached inside her left pocket.
She turned the fan on high and shot the frosty air at the ice-cream-covered lemur.
“YAP!”
Lenny leaped from her shoulder and raced up the ladder.
He plopped himself down—PLOP!—in the sunny spot at the very center of the diving board.
“Oh no!” Mrs. Luu shouted, staring up at the lemur high above the pool. He had his belly to the sun, his little lemur arms out to the sides. “How can we have a high-dive contest when there’s a lemur on the diving board?”
Owen shrugged.
He did not seem very upset about not being able to dive.
Mrs. Luu stomped to the front of the line and climbed the ladder.
She walked to the edge, one wobbly footstep at a time.
She tried to pry Lenny off the diving board.
She poked and prodded.
“Yap!”
The diving board flopped, and Mrs. Luu bounced. Down below, the kids held their breath. But Mrs. Luu kept her balance and did not fall into the pool.
She tugged and tickled.
“Yap!”
The diving board flipped, and Mrs. Luu bobbed. Down below, the kids held their breath. But Mrs. Luu kept her balance and did not fall into the pool.
She jerked and jostled.
“YAP!”
The diving board flip-flip-flop-flop-flipped, and Mrs. Luu bumped and bopped and bucked. Down below, the kids held their breath. But Mrs. Luu kept her balance.
She did not fall into the pool.
And that lemur would not move a muscle.
“I had this diving board installed especially for your birthday extravaganza!” Mrs. Luu wailed across the water. “And now the high-dive contest is ruined!”
Sophie smiled.
“I-I don’t mind, Mom,” Owen said. “Really. I still exactly love that exact lemur exactly up there.”
“Well,” she said once she had climbed down the ladder. “As long as you’re happy, Owen.” She looked up at Lenny and shook her head. “I guess it’s time for the old-fashioned taffy pull.”
While Mrs. Luu set out the pot of taffy mixture on the table, Sophie thought about Chapter 3 in the book about lemurs.
“Predators of the Ring-Tailed Lemur”
There were loads of incredible nuggets of information in that chapter, but there was one fact that Sophie had found especially amazing.
One of a lemur’s fiercest enemies is the Madagascar ground boa. If confronted with a boa constrictor, a lemur will attack.
