Amelia Bedelia & Friends #1
Page 4
“I see the resemblance,” said her mother.
“That’s amazing!” said her father. “Sometimes accidents really do lead to surprising discoveries.”
Then Amelia Bedelia and her parents went back outside to help with the activities. Amelia Bedelia had volunteered to sell her famous lemon tarts. She and her mother got them from the car and set up her booth. Penny had promised to help, and soon she arrived, carrying a cardboard box for cash and some art supplies.
“Oh, no!” said Amelia Bedelia. “I forgot to make a sign.” She began arranging the lemon tarts in the shape of a giant letter L that was six tarts wide.
“That L looks yummy,” said Penny. She drew a sign that read EMON and propped it up next to the giant letter L to spell LEMON.
“Thanks!” said Amelia Bedelia. “Let’s open for business!”
Awoooo! Amelia Bedelia’s dog, Finally, spoke up from under a bush next to Amelia Bedelia’s booth. Finally had to be wherever Amelia Bedelia’s lemon tarts were, because she loved them so much. Too much!
Finally was not the only dog who felt that way about lemon tarts. Most of the dogs in town thought that Amelia Bedelia’s lemon tarts were spectacular. Most people did, too.
“Poor Finally!” said Penny. “Can I save her one tiny little tart to try?”
Amelia Bedelia nodded and passed one to Penny. “I always make a special one for her,” she said. “Tiny but tart!”
Penny handled the money, and Amelia Bedelia served up her lemon tarts to happy customers. She had to keep rearranging the tarts into a capital L shape. An hour later, she only had enough tarts to make a little l shape. After the last two tarts were sold, Amelia Bedelia and Penny closed the booth and took off to join in the festivities. Right away, they ran into Rose.
“Check out this picture of me from a hundred years ago!” said Rose, showing them a photograph of her, Heather, and Daisy wearing old-fashioned dresses.
“Wow! You guys look like you stepped out of that photograph in the lobby,” said Penny.
Amelia Bedelia’s father was volunteering at the photo booth. While Amelia Bedelia and Penny sorted through the big box of costumes from the 1920s, he explained how he had come to be friends with the photographer.
“We once did a magazine ad for a cookie that was supposed to be baked with real old-fashioned goodness,” said Amelia Bedelia’s father. “So we made the whole photograph, including the cookie, look like it was from another time!”
“Did people buy a lot of cookies after that?” said Dawn.
“Uhhhhh . . . no. Unfortunately the cookies that looked like they were from another time tasted even older!”
Amelia Bedelia chose a dress that was covered with feathers, and Penny wore a shawl with a long fringe and an even longer pearl necklace. Amelia Bedelia and Penny were very happy with their photographs.
“You two look like true flappers!” said Amelia Bedelia’s father.
Amelia Bedelia flapped her arms, and Penny joined in. They fell on the ground laughing.
“Have you seen Mom?” asked Amelia Bedelia as she finally caught her breath.
“I saw her heading that way,” said her father, pointing at a table loaded with plants.
Amelia Bedelia and Penny took off their costumes, then waded through the big crowd around the plant table. Amelia Bedelia was certain that her mom was there someplace. Amelia Bedelia’s mother adored plants and gardening.
The plant table was covered with little kits labeled:
FOR SALE!
OAK TREE ELEMENTARY KIT
GROW YOUR OWN TREE WITH AN ACORN FROM OUR TREE!
Each kit included a paper cup filled with soil and a baby oak tree sprouting from an acorn that had fallen off the school’s oak tree. The school’s motto, MIGHTY OAKS FROM LITTLE ACORNS GROW, was written in fancy writing on each cup.
Just then, someone jumped on Amelia Bedelia and Penny from behind.
“Clay, cut it out!” said Penny.
“Clay, don’t do that!” said Amelia Bedelia.
“You like my big idea for getting rid of our millions of acorns?” asked Clay.
“Very smart,” said Amelia Bedelia, looking around. “I’m definitely going to buy one as soon as I find my mother.”
Amelia Bedelia spotted a beautiful tent next to the plant table. From inside, a whispery voice with a French accent called out to her.
“Are you lost, little girl?”
Before Amelia Bedelia could answer, a mysterious figure emerged. She was a little shorter than Amelia Bedelia, and she was wearing a long purple dress with a bright pink velvet top and lots of eye makeup. Her mass of curly red hair was held back by a sparkly clip with a big flower on it. Her long black fingernails toyed with the large beads of her necklace, and her many bracelets clinked and clanked together.
“Tell Madame Brenda, ma petite. For whom are you searching? A friend? A boyfriend, perhaps?”
“Boyfriend? Ewwwwww! GROSS!” said Amelia Bedelia. “I’m looking for my mother.”
Madame Brenda put her hands up to the side of her head. She closed her eyes and began rubbing her temples.
“I am receiving signals from a long-ago world. Does the name Finally mean anything to you?”
“Yes!” said Amelia Bedelia. “That’s my dog.”
“I see ze petite chien Finally walking with your mère,” said Madame Brenda, opening her eyes. “And here they are!”
Just then, Finally barked. She raced up to Amelia Bedelia, wiggling and straining at her leash as Amelia Bedelia’s mother tried to hold her back.
“Finally met a pony named Queenie, and I believe she got a little taste of some cotton candy,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother. “It took me a while to track her down!”
“Mom, Madame Brenda can predict the future,” said Amelia Bedelia. She knelt down next to Finally and tickled her chin.
“Madame Brenda loves to solve all kinds of mysteries,” said Madame Brenda. “Especially the history mysteries.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” said Amelia Bedelia. “We only know one expert history mystery solver at Oak Tree . . . and our friend is about your size!” Amelia Bedelia reached out and grabbed the giant flower from Madame Brenda’s head, causing her curly red hair to slide off and hit the ground. Amelia Bedelia laughed.
“Joy! Is that really you?” asked Penny, laughing, too.
Tears of laughter made Joy’s makeup run, leaving black streaks down her face.
“You’re such a great actor, Joy!” said Amelia Bedelia.
“I have a prediction,” said Amelia Bedelia’s mother. “Another ceremony is about to take place. Ms. Hotchkiss is getting ready to bury a new time capsule, to be opened one hundred years from today. Let’s go watch!”
Amelia Bedelia, Penny, and Joy raced to the student lounge. Kids and parents and teachers were gathered around the stump table, eating ice cream and cotton candy and buzzing like bees.
Mr. Jack held up a two-foot length of white plastic pipe that was a foot in diameter. “This was left over from an odd job I did. It’s perfect for storing something. I even glued a cap on the end.” He handed it to Mrs. Roman. “Put whatever you want to save in it. Then I’ll glue another cap on the other end to seal it.”
“Then how do we open it?” asked Wade.
“No one has to worry about that for one hundred years,” said Clay. “I’m sure someone in the future will be able to figure it out.”
The students of Oak Tree Elementary lined up to put things into the time capsule. Some put in whatever they had in their pockets, such as coins or pens. Others had written long letters. There were a few acorns. Rose put in her favorite book.
“That had better not be a library book,” said Mr. B. “You don’t want your great-grandchildren to have to pay the fine on a book that is one hundred years overdue.”
“This is in honor of you, Mrs. Shauk,” said Angel as she and Cliff approached the stump carrying something. “We are sure that one hundred years from now, kids will st
ill be talking about you.”
“We figured that if Roman numerals have lasted this long, then people one hundred years in the future would understand this message,” said Cliff. He held up a sign that looked like a license plate.
For once Mrs. Shauk had trouble seeing. Her hawk-like eyes were brimming with tears. She hugged Angel and Cliff. “You are all great. This is for everyone at Oak Tree Elementary,” said Mrs. Shauk. She held her sign for a minute, then put it in the time capsule.
“Last call,” said Ms. Hotchkiss, waving her feathered cap. “Anyone else want to contribute something?”
“Don’t seal it yet,” said Pete. He came forward and took out his great-grandfather’s pocket watch. He held it up for all to see. It sparkled like it was brand-new, reflecting the light as it dangled from its gold chain.
“My great-grandfather devoted his life to the future of this city. He thought that the best way to ensure a bright future was with education. Every generation climbs upon the shoulders of the one that came before, trying to see into the future. My great-grandfather helped many little acorns grow into mighty oaks. One hundred years ago, he contributed his most prized possession to the future. Today, I would like to do the same, to honor his memory and his faith in us.”
People were applauding Pete long after he wrapped up the watch in its original covering and carefully placed it in the time capsule. Clay’s father applied glue to the end of the pipe, and Ms. Hotchkiss was given the honor of putting on the cap to seal it. Then Clay’s father handed it to Dawn and Cliff to put into its stone vault by the student lounge and the stump.
Amelia Bedelia was standing next to Clay, whispering back and forth during the ceremony.
“This feels like a funeral,” said Clay. “A bunch of people standing around watching a burial.”
“Remember when we buried that pet gecko in my backyard?” said Amelia Bedelia.
“I sure do,” said Clay. “I was the one who defrosted him, after months in the freezer.”
“What was its name?” said Amelia Bedelia.
“Roger,” whispered Clay.
“No, that was the owner,” said Amelia Bedelia.
They were quiet until the name popped into both of their heads at the same time.
“Georgie!” they said loudly.
“SHHHHHHH!” said Mrs. Shauk. glancing behind her to catch who was talking.
Amelia Bedelia looked around, trying to memorize the faces of her friends and the people in her hometown. It was dawning on her that no one there today would be around for the two hundredth birthday celebration to open their time capsule. Not her teachers, not her parents, not Finally, and probably not her.
Amelia Bedelia was happy that she had taken the time to write a note and put it in the time capsule. She’d written it in cursive, then printed it too, in case the people in 2120 couldn’t read cursive.
To the students of Oak Tree Elementary,
There is nothing I can do to impress you. There is no invention or technology I have that will not be out of date in one hundred years. Instead of trying to predict what the world will be like in one hundred years, I promise that I will be kind and helpful and work REALLY hard to make the world better for the future.
Your friend,
Amelia Bedelia
As the ceremony came to a close, Amelia Bedelia and her friends grabbed shovels and helped Mr. Jack bury their time capsule back in the stone vault.
“I know what we need!” said Joy, once they had finished piling up the dirt and stamping it down. “Ice cream!”
Amelia Bedelia laughed. “That is a date!”
“Remember, people!” said Ms. Garcia, Amelia Bedelia’s science teacher at Oak Tree Elementary. “All great inventors think outside the box!”
Amelia Bedelia looked at her friend Joy and shrugged. Teachers were always telling them to think outside the box.
Amelia Bedelia rarely stood in a box to think, and neither did any of her friends. But Amelia Bedelia had also never invented anything famous—at least not yet. Not a lightbulb, like Thomas Edison . . . or shampoo made out of peanuts, like George Washington Carver . . . or a chocolate chip cookie, like Ruth Wakefield . . . or even a pair of earmuffs, like Chester Greenwood.
“An inventor starts with a problem and then finds a solution that doesn’t already exist,” Ms. Garcia continued. “So, let’s think about that for a minute. What is a problem that you would like to solve?”
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Amelia Bedelia’s Time Capsule
Copyright
Art was created digitally in Adobe Photoshop.
Amelia Bedelia is a registered trademark of Peppermint Partners, LLC.
AMELIA BEDELIA & FRIENDS #1: AMELIA BEDELIA & FRIENDS BEAT THE CLOCK. Text copyright © 2019 by Herman S. Parish III. Illustrations copyright © 2019 by Lynne Avril. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
Cover art © 2019 by Lynne Avril
Cover design by Sylvie Le Floc’h
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019944437
ISBN 9780062935182 (hardback) — ISBN 9780062961815 (paper-over-board) — ISBN 9780062935175 (paperback)
Digital Edition SEPTEMBER 2019 ISBN: 978-0-06-293519-9
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-293517-5
1920212223PC/BRR10987654321
Greenwillow Books
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