That is, everything except I still needed to think of a way to carry my portfolio.
This was easier said than done.
I first looked around the house for something box-shaped, but nothing was quite the right fit.
Shirt boxes were too small.
Board game boxes were too narrow.
Cereal boxes were too…crumby.
Still, I couldn’t see carrying a hanger around all day, although it was a clever idea.
Defeated, I lay on my bed and stared at the wall. The perfect smile of Tommy H smiled back at me from my new poster.
I still had the cardboard tube it had come in. Maybe I could use that to store my art?
It turned out to be a great solution. Everything fit perfectly, and this way my art wouldn’t get crumpled.
I was really proud of myself. I had worked hard on my art collection, and no matter what happened, that made me feel like a “real” artist.
“Way to go, Babymouse!” I proudly said to my mirror.
I quickly washed up, put on my pj’s, and climbed under the covers.
* * *
The next morning, I jumped out of bed even before my phone alarm went off. It was the big day! Finally!
Then I realized I had been so busy worrying about my artwork that I hadn’t thought about what to wear! I whipped open my closet and started tossing clothes onto my bed.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” I called.
“Me,” said my little brother, Squeak. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
“What are you doing?” he asked, looking around.
“I’m trying to find a cool outfit to wear to the city!”
“A cool outfit?” he said with a smile. “I know what you should wear.”
“Yeah?” I asked skeptically. I usually didn’t trust him on matters of fashion, but it was cute that he wanted to help his big sister.
Squeak returned a minute later…with my snowsuit.
I waved him out of my room and looked at the clock. I had to make a decision soon if I wanted to be on time—and not get stuck with the gum seat again!
(STUCK, ha. But no time for jokes!)
I looked at my options.
Finally, I decided on a classic white shirt, a denim skirt, and a bright-red pair of patent-leather high-heel pumps. Ms. Painter had said to wear comfortable shoes, but we were going to the city! And nobody wants to get discovered wearing stinky old tennis shoes. (Except maybe a tennis player. But you know what I mean.)
I didn’t want to drag around my backpack all day, so I grabbed a basket-style purse from my closet instead. Perfect!
“Babymouse, you’re going to be late!” Dad called from downstairs.
“Coming!” I yelled back.
I grabbed my Whiz Bang™ and stared at it, feeling a little (just a little) guilty. I knew the permission slip said we couldn’t bring our cell phones on the trip—but the Whiz Bang™ wasn’t just any cell phone. It was my connection to the world and everyone in it!
Besides, it was good in an emergency. Like if I got separated from Penny. Or they ran out of chocolate gateaux at the museum snack bar. This way, I could just call for takeout. (Cakeout?)
That settled it. I was taking my Whiz Bang™ along, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop me. With that, I tossed the Whiz Bang™ into my basket and grabbed my tube of art. I was ready to go.
Mom and Squeak were sitting at the table eating breakfast. Dad was at the stove making pancakes.
“Got to go!” I announced, grabbing a granola bar. “See you later!”
“Wait a second, Babymouse,” Mom said. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Could she have found out about the phone? Was I totally busted?
“What do you mean?” I asked, shifting uneasily from foot to foot.
She gave me a funny look.
“Your lunch!” Dad said, tossing me a brown paper bag from across the room.
I laughed nervously as I caught it. “Oh, right. Thanks, guys!”
“Have a great day!” Mom called after me.
I made it to the bus stop just as the bus was pulling up. I was practically bouncing with excitement. I climbed on and looked around for my friends. Penny waved to me from the back. She had saved a seat for me. “Thanks,” I said, sliding in next to her.
“Big day!” she said.
“Yep, finally!” I replied.
“How do you think we’re going to be traveling to the city?” she asked me.
“Hmm…,” I replied. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Suddenly, my mind was alive with possibilities.
I immediately pictured a stretch limousine big enough to fit my entire class. We would pop bottles of lemonade, sing karaoke, and dance under a sparkly disco ball all the way to the museum. We’d watch our small town slowly fade away, replaced by the bright lights of the big city.
“Maybe we’ll take a limousine!” I exclaimed.
Felicia scoffed at me from across the aisle. “Sounds like someone’s been staring into bright lights too long,” she yawned.
I turned red.
“Okay, well, if not a limousine, then maybe a super-luxury RV!”
I pictured an oversize RV packed with a fully stocked fridge, a milk shake machine, Ping-Pong tables, a wide-screen TV, and reclining movie-theater seats. We could call it the Glamour-A-Go-Go!
“Keep dreaming, Babymouse,” Felicia said.
* * *
We met in the art room so Ms. Painter could take attendance. Not surprisingly, everyone was present.
“Great!” Ms. Painter said, checking the last name off her list. “The school bus will be here any minute.”
My heart sank. Another school bus? Seriously? I looked way too chic to arrive at the museum on a boring old school bus.
Le sigh.
We filed out of the room and toward the front lobby.
“Remember,” Ms. Painter said. “Everyone needs to stay with their partner…or in this case, your ‘art-ner.’ ”
Penny and I stayed together. Wilson and Georgie did, too. They had paired up for the day.
I stepped onto the bus and was hit with a strong whiff of something awful.
“Ew!” yelled my friend Duckie from the back of the bus, holding up a moldy green plastic bag. “Someone left a tuna sandwich here!” From the smell, I was guessing they’d left it there last school year.
Everyone groaned as our teacher instructed us to open the windows.
Maybe this was why Leonardo da Vinci tried to invent a flying machine—to avoid stinky buses!
After yesterday’s gum fiasco, I decided it would be best to let Penny choose our seats. We climbed into a two-seater behind Felicia and her friends, who were whispering excitedly.
I couldn’t help but (purposely) overhear snippets of their conversation.
“So everyone is still good with the plan?” Felicia asked.
Melinda, Belinda, and Berry whispered, “Yes.”
“As soon as possible, we ditch the art museum and head into the city. We start at Kazoo. That’s the clothing boutique I texted you guys about, where all the celebs are shopping these days. Then we grab lunch at Epic, the famous sushi place downtown. Later, we go to the Theater District to see if we can snag tickets to Koalaton, starring—”
“Tommy H!” they all squealed in unison.
I couldn’t believe it! Felicia and her friends were sneaking off by themselves for a whole day of city fun? No fair!
But mostly I was jealous of them seeing Koalaton with Tommy H.
I immediately began to rethink my day at the art museum. I knew I had agreed to the terms of the trip, and that the whole point of us having no chaperones was to prove we didn’t need them—but this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see Tommy H!
Soon
after, we pulled up to the art museum. I grabbed my basket and poster tube as we rushed off the bus.
Ms. Painter herded us into the lobby of the museum. It was covered in glistening marble, with lots of cool tall columns.
In the center of the floor was a bright-yellow sun made out of brick-like mosaic tiles. It was like my very own yellow brick road! Who knew where it would lead?!
“Now, students,” Ms. Painter said. “Do check out as many exhibits as possible, but be sure to meet back here by five o’clock at the latest.”
“MOST IMPORTANTLY,” she continued, “do not wander away from the museum. You may only go outside to get lunch at the food trucks, and then immediately come back inside. Am I understood?”
The class gave a loud “Yes, Ms. Painter,” after which she released us to go exploring.
Most of my classmates immediately poured into the museum. But before I rushed off with the masses, I had business to attend to.
“Hold on a sec, Penny,” I told her. “I have to do something really fast.”
“No problem,” Penny replied. “I’m going to check out the museum map over there.”
I approached the information desk. There was an older lady sitting behind it.
“Excuse me,” I said.
“Hello. May I help you?” she asked.
“Are you the museum curator?”
She smiled warmly. “No, I’m a volunteer. Is there something I can help you with?”
“I wanted to show my art collection to the museum curator, please.”
“I see,” she said. “That’s great that you’re an artist! But unfortunately, the museum doesn’t accept unsolicited portfolios.”
My heart sank. I didn’t know what “unsolicited” meant, but I was pretty sure she was politely saying no.
“But I’ll tell you what,” she continued. “We do have young artists’ programs from time to time, so you can follow us online and maybe get involved that way.”
“Thanks!” I said. “Do you think I could leave my art with you anyway, so I don’t have to carry it around the museum all day?”
“My shift is almost over. But we actually have a coat-and-item check right across the way,” she said, pointing. “So you can store your things safely there.”
I looked to where she was pointing, but instead of seeing the coat check, my eyes lit upon the gift shop right next to it.
“Okay, great!” I waved good-bye and went to track down Penny.
We stopped briefly at the coat check, where a man handed me a number slip and a hanger. This made me laugh, because if I had just gone with the hanger idea, I would be all set right now!
Instead, he stored my poster tube in a cubby in the back.
I took a deep breath as we walked into the glowing museum shop next door. The shop was full of all sorts of incredible stuff: key chains, scarves, umbrellas, tote bags, books, posters, pencils, and everything in between.
“Hey! There’s Wilson and Georgie!” Penny called, waving.
They were checking out the postcards. There were hundreds of them, and each one was more beautiful than the last. (To be honest, I didn’t really get the whole point of mailing a postcard. From what I’d heard, it was some medieval form of communication, from back before there was reliable Wi-Fi.)
“How do I look?” Penny asked, donning a tote bag and dramatically throwing a scarf over her shoulder. She was so good at that.
“Fantastique, mon amie!” I said with a smile.
It was then that I saw the most magical thing I had ever seen: a silver spoon with a little painting on it!
“Wilson, can you believe your eyes?” I asked in disbelief.
Wilson rubbed his eyes, confused. “It just looks like a fancy spoon to me.”
“No, no, no,” I responded. “You’re missing the whole point!”
“If anything, the spoon is missing a point. Get it? Like a fork or a knife?” he asked.
Georgie slapped Wilson on the back. “Good one,” he said, laughing.
“There is a painting on the spoon!” I said.
Wilson furrowed his brow. “Uh, you know they have the real paintings hanging in the museum, right, Babymouse?”
“I need that spoon, Wilson!” I exclaimed, ignoring him.
A cranky-looking salesman came over.
“Would you like to buy something?” he asked me.
I swallowed hard. “How much does this spoon cost?”
The salesman gave me a disapproving look. “This is a limited-edition collector’s spoon,” he replied.
I held it up to catch the light.
In the glint of the spoon, I saw something over my shoulder. I spun around to see Felicia and her friends sneaking out of the lobby bathroom and toward the exit.
“They’re leaving!” I called to Penny.
The salesman looked confused.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and handed him the spoon. “I have to go now. Thanks for your help.”
He harrumphed as he placed the spoon back in its case. I ran out.
Penny, Georgie, and Wilson dropped what they were doing and ran after me.
“Where are you going?” Georgie asked.
“Felicia and her friends are sneaking out of the museum to spend the day in the city,” I told him.
“Sounds like trouble to me,” said Wilson.
“What about you, Penny?” I asked. “Do you want to follow them?”
Penny bit her lip. I could tell she was torn.
“It’s up to you,” I said nonchalantly. “But remember, every day is an adventure,” I continued, breaking into the Koalaton theme song.
“Ugh,” Wilson and Georgie groaned, covering their ears.
Penny’s face lit up. “Ev-ery day. Ev-ery day. If only you le-e-et it beee,” she sang back, giving me a high five. “Let’s do it!”
“See you guys later!” I said.
I waved good-bye to Wilson and Georgie as I hurried out a small side door labeled “Not an Exit.”
“Babymouse, wait!” Penny shouted.
Such was the beginning of our fabulous city adventure.
Though my shortcut was a bit of a disaster, it did save us time in the end. I climbed over the boxes, and in minutes Penny and I were on the street, just steps behind Felicia and her friends.
I really wanted to hop in a cab and yell “Follow those girls!” but I didn’t want to waste precious spoon money. Plus, from the looks of it, the cabs were going more slowly than we could travel on foot.
We followed them through a maze of streets. It wasn’t easy, because we had to stay close enough to watch where they were going, but far enough away that they couldn’t see us following them. I felt like I was in a spy movie.
The city was incredible. Everywhere I turned, there was something new to see: towering buildings, fancy stores and restaurants, and vendor carts on the street selling soft pretzels and hot dogs. I wondered if any of them sold chocolate gateaux.
Finally, we ended up in a huge outdoor square.
I was trying to decide whether to follow them around all day, or ask them to let us go with them. But in the end, it didn’t matter, because a huge bus went by and we lost sight of them completely. Felicia and company had disappeared.
We were on our own.
“Babymouse!” Penny cried, realizing. “They’re gone! We’re lost!”
“Don’t panic, Penny,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”
At that moment, a giant costumed monster came toward us.
“You look like you could use a hug,” he said in a muffled voice.
Penny wasn’t so sure, but I saw lots of small children hugging other characters and having their pictures taken, so I thought, Why not?
I gave the monster a big hug as Penny took a photo on my Whiz Bang™. The monster’s fur smelled kind of like the
school bus, but the hug did make me feel a little bit better.
I pulled away, and the monster put out his hand. I gave it a high five.
“I don’t want a high five,” the monster said. “I want a tip!”
“Oh,” I said, looking down at my chafing shoes. “Here’s a tip: don’t wear heels if you plan to walk all over the city!”
The monster was not amused. “A money tip,” he said.
Penny and I looked at each other. A tip just for a hug and a picture? Maybe I should rethink my art career.
I handed the monster a dollar. He pretended to cry when he saw how little it was, but finally he left to go rip off some other kid.
“Man!” I said. “What a weird place.”
Penny nodded. “Yeah, and why would…” She broke off. “Look! A cat!”
“No more characters, please!” I wailed.
“No, a real cat!” she said. “Actually, I think it’s a kitten. Over there!”
I looked where she was pointing, and saw a tiny gray kitten hiding in an alleyway nearby.
We crossed the street and went into the alley.
“There she is!” Penny said.
The gray kitten was sitting in an old pizza box, chewing on stale crusts.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” I said gently, putting my hand out.
The kitten took a curious step toward us.
“She’s not running away!” Penny whispered excitedly.
“Probably because we still smell like tuna from the bus this morning,” I replied.
“Aw, she’s so cute!” Penny gushed. “Look at how little she is. She needs our help!”
School-Tripped Page 2
