My Life in Dioramas

by Tara Altebrando

  Across the room, I saw Sam packing up his walkway diorama. He smiled at me but I didn’t feel swoony when I smiled back. Maybe because I’d been gone for a while. Maybe because of Benny, some of the magic was gone.

  Naveen was boxing up his shark and bear diorama and I caught his eye. “So did you ever decide? Shark or bear?”

  “I have absolutely decided, Kate—” He smiled wide. “That it really could go either way.”

  I laughed and wondered when Naveen would start thinking of girls as, well, girls.

  I wondered whether he’d ever have a crush on me, or whether I’d approve of whoever he chose.

  I was happy that my parents decided to let me finish middle school there in my old school—driving me to and from for one whole year—but also felt like it wouldn’t have been the end of the world if I’d had to go to school with Benny and the other kids from the neighborhood.

  We went out to dinner with Stella’s family as a sort of end-of-school celebration and got home late. I went up to get ready for bed and stopped to put my first two dioramas with the others, all stacked in the upstairs den. Looking at my weeping willow made of string, I thought about branches that die off and fall away.

  I wasn’t sure I’d ever make another diorama.

  What would I dream up next?

  I turned the light off, and out the window, fireflies pulsed in time with my heart.

  Hi!

  You don’t know me, but I lived in your house for a really, really long time. My whole life, up until just a few months ago.

  There are a few things I thought you should know.

  That cat that hangs around the barn and the yard is named Pants. Named by me, I mean. Because she looks like she’s wearing pants. But you probably figured that out. You can change her name if you want to, like if you had your heart set on some other name. But Pants has been her name for a long time. She had kittens right at the end of winter but I never named them. Maybe you already have.

  In the fall, you might want to tape around the screen doors in some of the old windows. Otherwise stinkbugs are just going to waltz in every crevice. They’re dumb. But also: Gross.

  There’s a dog buried in the woods just past the stream. His name was Angus and we put a big rock on top of his grave. I hope that doesn’t freak you out, but he lived here as long as I did and we couldn’t bear to put him anywhere else. If you grow up to be handy with a chisel, maybe you’ll carve his name into that rock. Or maybe you’ll leave him a flower once in a while.

  The cows next door are pretty annoying; you’ve probably figured that out by now. Moo!

  We have no idea why there are so many dead flies in the master bedroom. So good luck with that.

  Speaking of which, my friend Stella lives right around the corner from you. Maybe your parents will ask her to babysit you guys when she’s a little older? She is awesome at a lot of things, like dancing. She’s also just fun to be around except when she gets a LITTLE too competitive and has to be told to calm the heck down because it’s just a dance competition and anyway I CAME IN SEVENTH SO YOU DIDN’T REALLY HAVE TO WORRY!

  Also fun: Naveen. You’ll see him riding his bike or maybe launching soda bottles into the air. If you ever need help, basically with a problem of any kind, he’s your man.

  I hope you’re not sad about leaving whatever place you were living in before. Our new house is smaller, but I like it. I miss seeing Pants around, especially now that Angus is in dog heaven, but my parents say that maybe we’ll think about getting another dog when we’re settled. Meanwhile, I’ve made some friends, like this guy Benny who is sort of hilarious, and the funny thing is I’m not even that far away from you. I’m actually going to end up at the same high school as all my old friends and I go to the same dancing school I was in last year.

  Here’s the thing. Change is hard. Until it’s not.

  Trust me. One day, you’ll end up leaving Big Red, too. (Oh, yeah. We called it Big Red.) Hopefully it’ll be because you won the lotto and are moving into a seaside mansion. Or maybe just because you’re old enough that you’re going away to college.

  Either way, I bet you’ll be sad about leaving. Which means that for the time being you should kick back and enjoy. Maybe go scooter around on the tennis court that isn’t really a tennis court. (Long story.)

  One last thing. There’s a bag with a dirty spatula in it down by the woods. You can see it from the path up to the road. Throw it out if you can. Then go wash your hands. Thanks!

  Oh, and you guys totally need to get some wind chimes to hang on the back porch. There’s a hook there, just waiting. . . .

  —Kate

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Lisa Cheng, you’re the best. I may make fun of you a wee bit (“Pick! Pick! Pick!”) but I deeply appreciate your attention to detail and your obvious love of stories, books, and the job of editing them.

  I am so grateful to be working with the amazing Running Press Kids/Perseus team:

  Chris Navratil, Allison Devlin, Valerie Howlett, Frances Soo Ping Chow, Stacy Schuck, Geri DiTella, Elenita Chmilowski, Susan McConnell, Liz Tzetzo and, of course, T.L. Bonaddio. We should hang out more.

  Thanks, always, to David Dunton at Harvey Klinger agency.

  That goes for you, too, Nick Altebrando.