by Honest Lee
That meant they would have absolutely no animals in the house that might pee or poo or vomit on their precious interior decorations. Thus, no cat for Emma.
Unfortunately for Mr. and Mrs. Embry, Emma came home one day with a check for $1,037,037,037.04. And she planned to spend every dime of it on what she’d always wanted: cats.
The next day, Emma bought every cat in the state—whether it was from a store or from an alley. She had them all shipped directly to her house. Within twenty-four hours, Mr. and Mrs. Embry’s dream house became their nightmare house.
Curtains were shredded, couches were covered in hair, and anything that looked like a bird (or had a bird on it) was utterly destroyed.
“Our beautiful home!” Emma’s parents cried. “What have you done, you terrible child?”
“For years, your home was more important to you than me,” Emma said. “Now, my dream pet has ruined your dream house. Fair is fair.”
Mr. and Mrs. Embry growled and screamed and threw a tantrum. When they were done, they told Emma, “If you have so much money, perhaps you and your cats should go live somewhere else.”
“That’s a fantastic idea!” Emma said. She’d always wanted to live on an island of cats.
Emma bought a large island in the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Polynesia. She renamed it Cats Island. (Not to be confused with Tashirojima, Japan—also known as Cat Island.)
Then she chartered a plane to take her and all her cats to their new home. She built a castle full of pillows and scratching posts. The televisions only played movies and shows about cats. Outside, there was a massive garden of catnip.
There was only one law on Cats Island:
NO DOGS ALLOWED.
Emma started a stray adoption service so that anytime a cat needed a home, it was flown (first class, of course) to Cats Island.
Emma finally had everything she ever dreamed of. There was only one problem—it turns out Emma is severely allergic to cats.
Her eyes swelled up, then sealed shut with icky-sticky eye goo. She broke out in hives, and her whole body became itchy. She couldn’t stop scratching. But the worst part was the sneezing. Every thirty seconds, she sneezed a terrible and loud and snotty sneeze that scared all the cats away. And no matter how many allergy medicines she took, she was still allergic to her favorite thing in the world—cats.
Eventually, she had to leave Cats Island and go home.
CHAPTER 5
William
All the students in Classroom 13 were careful not to use the p-word around William. You know the one—paranoid.
“I’m not paranoid!” William yelled. “It’s not paranoia if someone’s really after you. I’m telling you, we’re all being watched. That woman has been watching me all day!”
“But, William,” Ms. Linda said, “I’m your teacher. I’m supposed to be watching you. That’s how school works.”
“Aha!” he shouted back. “So you admit you’ve been spying on me! It’s a conspiracy!” He looked at the others with a smirk on his face. “Told you.”
The other students were used to William being the most paranoid suspicious kid in Classroom 13. So, when William decided his life was in danger because of his lottery money, they shrugged it off.
“But, you guys,” he said, “someone is going to try to rob me. Or worse! I just know it.”
“Then hire bodyguards,” Ethan told him. “Of course, if you don’t pay them enough, they could turn on you, too.”
William agreed. Trust no one.
He left school that day, taking a different path home than he normally did—in case he was being followed. He changed clothes as he snuck through the park, trying different disguises he had in his backpack: a neck brace, a nun’s habit, a cowboy hat with a mustache. He finally decided to dress like an old man.
He folded up the lottery check and hid it in his shoe. He changed his outfit, stuffed his clothes with newspaper, then added an oversized scarf and a hat. “No one will recognize me now,” he muttered.
Out of the corner of his eye, William thought he saw an unmarked car pursuing him with bad guys inside. He hopped on a bus going the opposite way from his house. It took him clear across town. This will throw them off my trail, he thought.
“You look just like my grandfather,” said a young woman on the bus. “Please, take my seat.” So William sat down. But then the woman started staring at him. He was sure that she wanted to steal his billion-dollar check too.
At the next stoplight, he ran off the bus.
When William got home, he ditched the disguise. But with each passing minute, he grew more worried. He was certain he would be robbed at any second.
He cut a hole in his mattress to stuff the check inside. But he became paranoid scared that the check would get stuck in the mattress springs and he’d have to rip it out. (Last he checked, the bank wouldn’t accept paper shreds.)
He needed a new plan. But where would his check be safe?
William jumped when his bedroom door opened. It was his parents.
“Son?” his dad said. “Is everything okay?”
“Someone’s trying to steal my money!”
“Don’t be para—I mean, silly,” his mom said. “Why would someone steal your allowance?”
“Not that money. This money.” William showed them his lottery check.
“Oh!” his dad said.
“Why don’t we hide it for you?” his mom said. “If someone is after you, no one will suspect we have it.”
“And as adults, we know lots of great hiding spots,” his dad added.
“Great idea!” William said. “Take that, bad guys!” He hugged his parents, thanked them, and went to sleep. (Being paranoid cautious all day was exhausting.)
The next morning, William peeked out his windows. No one was spying on him. His parents’ plan had worked.
As he went to thank his parents, he found they weren’t home. His parents’ clothes were gone. So were their suitcases. And so was his pet goldfish, Goldie. “That’s weird,” he whispered.
William’s mind started to wonder. Had his mom and dad stolen his money? Would they really run off without saying good-bye? Were they thousands of miles away on a beach somewhere, sipping umbrella drinks and laughing about their double cross? And was the goldfish—that shifty-eyed sneak—secretly the mastermind of the whole thing? And was Goldie even his goldfish’s real name?!
William chuckled to himself. That all sounds so… so… stupid paranoid, he thought.
Soon, William would learn that his paranoia was correct. His parents had run off with his money—and they were not coming home.
CHAPTER 6
Sophia
When she was born, Sophia was partially deaf. Now she wore hearing aids so she could hear. And every night, as she drifted off to sleep, she listened to “Sounds of the Rain Forest” on her laptop. (She found the exotic sounds of insects and birds and monkeys quite soothing.)
You see, Sophia loved nature. She talked to plants for hours, protected bugs, and hugged trees. (Sometimes they were rather long, awkward hugs.)
Because of that, Sophia believed the term “tree hugger” was invented for her. Per copyright law, she thought she deserved a nickel every time someone said it. Not that she needed any nickels. Now she was a billionaire.
After cashing her check for $1,037,037,037.04, she flew to South America and bought the Amazon. Not a piece of the Amazon—the whole Amazon rain forest.
Then she put up handmade signs all around it that read: NO SAWS ALLOWED!, PROTECTED AREA—KEEP OUT CONSTRUCTION JERKS!, and TREES ARE FOR HUGGING—NOT FOR CUTTING! (The signs were made on recycled paper, of course.)
She put up hundreds of these signs without using a single drop of bug spray to protect herself. After all, she believed that bug spray harmed the atmosphere and hurt innocent bugs.
But the Amazon insects didn’t care about Sophia the way she cared about them. Sophia was bitten by twenty different species of bugs during her travels. B
y the time she was done, her skin was swollen with hives, warts, and awful rashes.
Next, she built protective sanctuaries for all the endangered species there. She paid local hunters to stay away and spread the word that the Amazon was “under new management.”
“Whatever you say,” the hunters said, shivering in their boots. Sophia’s face was so monstrous from all the bug bites, she looked like a monster from a horror movie.
Sophia didn’t care what she looked like. If the pygmy marmosets could talk, she knew they’d thank her. (Instead, most of them flung poop at her.)
Before she could buy Madagascar and save its rain forest, Sophia ran out of money. Property taxes, land deals, flights, bribes, and sign-making supplies were not cheap. The fat black markers alone were five bucks each.
Still, Sophia had saved the rain forest.
“I love nature, I love nature,” Sophia repeated to herself over and over while she itched and itched and itched.…
CHAPTER 7
Santiago
Santiago didn’t get a dime from Ms. Linda’s lottery winnings. That’s what happens when you stay home sick.
CHAPTER 8
Ximena
Every day, on Ximena Xuxa’s walk home from school, she stopped at the strip mall. She would high-five the florist, pick up some caramelos for her abuela (that’s Spanish for “grandma”), and grab a new brochure at the travel agency.
(Her family couldn’t afford to travel, but Ximena liked getting lost in the pictures of faraway islands and famous landmarks.)
But not today.
Today, with her check for $1,037,037,037.04, Ximena ran home as fast as she could. She skipped her usual stop at the strip mall.
The florist was ready to high-five her, but all he saw was a girl-shaped blur run by. His hand was raised but left high-fiveless in the air.
The owner of the sweets shop looked at her clock. She wondered if Ximena was sick. She always picked up caramelos for her abuela. But not today.
Even the travel agent—who let Ximena take all the travel brochures she wanted (free of charge)—was worried. The new Grand Canyon brochures weren’t going to look at themselves.
At that moment, on the other side of the tracks, in the poor side of town, Ximena bolted through her front door like an Olympic runner.
“Mamá… Papá… Abuela…” Ximena said, out of breath. She held up her check. “You’re not going to believe this.…”
And they didn’t.
You see, the Xuxa family had very little money. Mr. and Mrs. Xuxa both worked two jobs and worked hard for every dollar. So they found it hard to believe their daughter could become an instant billionaire simply by showing up to school.
“You’re right. I don’t believe it!” Mr. Xuxa said. He stared at the check.
“Me neither!” her mom said. She kept counting the commas.
“Truly, mija?!” her abuela said from her bed. “I am so happy for you, mija. Now you can see the world, just like you’ve always wanted.”
“Will you come with me, Abuela?” Ximena asked.
“I wish I could, but no. I am too old and too tired. But you should go.”
Abuela was Ximena’s best friend. She didn’t want to see the world without her. But as Ximena stared at her collected travel brochures, she had an idea. If she couldn’t take her abuela to see the world, then she would bring the world to her abuela.
First, Ximena rented the Statue of Liberty. She had it airlifted from Liberty Island right to her driveway. Ximena thought it was much less green in person than in the brochures. Ximena repainted the statue electric pink and gave her a pair of bright yellow sunglasses. (When she was returned to New York City, everyone seemed to like the new look.)
Ximena then rented Mount Rushmore. It was airlifted from South Dakota to her backyard. She agreed with the brochure that the monument was “impressive,” but she thought it needed something extra. So she hired a sculptor to chisel her abuela’s face next to President Lincoln’s. It was her abuela’s idea to add a mustache and a Mohawk.
Ximena called the French government about renting the Eiffel Tower, but someone had already bought it. (Ximena wondered if it was someone in her class.)
Ximena spent her fortune renting other famous landmarks. She rented the Great Sphinx from Egypt, the Great Wall of China from China, the Taj Mahal from India, and the Leaning Tower of Pisa from Italy. She even rented Big Ben from England. (Though it was only temporary, the queen was not pleased about it.)
Abuela loved everything that Ximena brought home for her to see—except for Stonehenge, which Abuela called “just a bunch of rocks.”
When she ran out of enough money to rent new landmarks, Ximena had just enough left over to buy her abuela a brand-new (and very comfy) bed and a lifetime supply of caramelos.
Together, they looked at new travel brochures. They didn’t have a lot of money, but they had a lot of love—which, like the brochures, was free of charge.
CHAPTER 9
Jayden Jason
Jayden Jason James (or Triple J, as some called him) was the most popular kid in the entire school. He had a standing invitation to sit at any table in the cafeteria. He was voted class president four times in a row (in the same election). And he was always the first to be asked to study groups, sleepovers, and birthday parties.
He was the closest thing to a celebrity Classroom 13 had.
But he never let fame go to his head. Triple J was a people pleaser and a genuinely nice person. If he missed someone’s event, he felt terrible.
And since he was always asked to attend everything (and there was only one of him to go around), Triple J was exhausted all the time. He needed a break.
So with his lottery winnings, he decided to clone himself.
He held a press conference about it on the playground. Ava acted as his press secretary and pointed to kids in the crowd (one at a time) to ask questions.
“How many clones will there be?” Teo asked.
“With the new clones, there’ll be enough of me to go around,” Triple J said. “In the past, I know I’ve disappointed some of you because my schedule was overbooked. Soon that will be a thing of the past. I hate missing events!”
Hands shot up again. Ava pointed to Dev, who asked, “What do we call your clones? Will they have different names? And if so, can I name one?”
“No different names,” Triple J said. “That’s too confusing. We’re numbering them. I’ll be J-1, and the first clone will be J-2, and then J-3, and so on.”
“We have time for one more question,” Ava said.
Chloe shouted, “Cloning is not ethically or morally sound!”
“That’s not a question,” Ava said. “Looks like that’s all the time we have for today. No further questions, thank you.”
Triple J hired the world’s most brilliant scientists to clone him.
“That is immoral!” one scientist said.
“It’s dangerous!” said another.
“How will you know who you are?!” said a third.
Triple J handed them his money. The scientists suddenly changed their minds and got to work.
The procedure was a success. Within days, there were four brand-new perfect clones of Triple J. (You might think four isn’t very many, but clones are quite expensive. You could buy a space station for far less money.)
Triple J put a plan together: J-2 would attend all academic events like study sessions, quiz bowls, mathlete meetings, and school play tryouts. J-3 would handle all the athletic stuff like baseball, basketball, soccer, and (of course) bobsledding. J-4 would take care of all family responsibilities like birthdays, Sunday dinners, and movie nights. And J-5 (the fourth and final clone) would appear at all social gatherings like sleepovers, pizza parties, and recess.
Triple J would never miss a single thing again. (At least that was the plan.)
For one perfect week, the Triple J clones were everywhere at once. J-5 attended game nights at Fatima’s while J-3 was bobsledd
ing with Mason. At the same time, J-2 was studying with Sophia and Teo for their history test, just as J-4 was settling in to watch movies with his family for movie night.
Of course, the original Triple J (J-1) wasn’t at any of these events. People began to complain. They didn’t want a clone. They wanted the famous original Jayden Jason James. They wanted the real deal. Triple J was frustrated, but he wanted everyone to be happy.
Triple J decided to go back to the way things were before. He would be tired, but at least everyone would be happy.
Triple J held a press conference about it on the playground. Teo acted as his press secretary and pointed to kids in the crowd (one at a time) to ask questions.
“Why are you giving up on your clone plan?” Ava asked.
“I want everyone to be happy,” Triple J said.
Hands shot up again. Teo pointed to Dev, who asked, “What happened to your clones?”
“I sent them to live on a farm,” Triple J said. “But instead, they ran away and joined the circus. Don’t worry. They are all very happy.”
“We have time for one more question,” Teo said.
Chloe shouted, “I told you—cloning is not ethically or morally sound!”
“That’s not a question,” Teo said. “Looks like that’s all the time we have for today. No further questions, thank you.”
After that, the original, famous Triple J was back. Everyone was happy to have the real Triple J—not some secondhand clone.
Then again, how would they know the difference? Clones are the exact same in every way. They look the same, they talk the same, they even fart the same.
What if the real Triple J was the one that ran away to the circus?
Strangely enough, some of the students of Classroom 13 have wondered the exact same thing. I’ve told them just to ask Triple J the next time they see him…
