Flip the Silver Switch

by Jackie Yeager

  “It wouldn’t be the same.”

  “You’re crazy, Kia. If I had a chance to spend a whole year with teammates like yours, I would go. You’re lucky. You have a grandma that cares about you. If my grandpa wanted to talk to me, even through an air screen, I’d be happy. I’d tell him all about my world-wide travels with my friends.”

  “I don’t know. All I ever really wanted was to go to PIPS. If we skip the Swirl and Spark Tour, I can. That would make my grandma really proud. Maybe your team will make it, and then Principal Bermuda will realize what an idiot he’s been. He’ll be really proud of you then.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  I stand up from the step. “Good luck in the competition, Martina. Maybe I’ll see you at the dining hall. And thanks for making me feel better about my grandma.”

  She smiles. “You too, Kia. Thanks—for everything.”

  I make my way back to my tree suite, but my head is spinning. I don’t know what to think of first. I have so much to tell my teammates, and we have our costumes to finish, and oh my god, the Opening Ceremony is tonight.

  THE SILVER SWITCH

  I can hear my teammates talking in the clubhouse. I walk around to find them gathered under the tree, working on their costumes.

  “Kia! We heard about your grandma,” says Jillian. “We’re so sorry. Is she going to be okay?”

  “I hope so,” I say. “She crashed her aero-scooter.”

  “Ander told us,” says Jax. “That’s awful.”

  “Good morning, my Crimson Kids!” Seraphina appears with a box. “I have breakfast! Scrambled apples and oatmeal. Since you wouldn’t go to the dining hall, I brought the dining hall to you.”

  I look at my team. “You guys didn’t go to breakfast.”

  “Not without you, KK.”

  I can’t believe my team would miss breakfast for me.

  “Kia,” says Seraphina. “I’m sorry about your grandma’s accident. I really hope she’s going to be okay.”

  “Me too.”

  “Go ahead and eat. I’m going back inside to gather the rest of your materials. We need to finish these costumes, pronto.”

  When she leaves, I motion for my team to come closer. “I have something big to tell you guys.”

  “What is it?” asks Jillian.

  “It’s big, really big, and you’re never going to believe it.”

  My teammates drop their materials and gather around me.

  “It’s something about Principal Bermuda.”

  “Ugh, I don’t want to hear anything else about Principal Backstabber.”

  “But you have to hear this, Mare.”

  “Fine, what?”

  “He’s Martina’s grandfather.”

  “What?” Jillian replies. “No!”

  “Witch Girl is Principal Backstabber’s granddaughter?” says Mare in disbelief.

  “No way!” says Ander.

  “Where did you hear that?” asks Jax.

  “She told me.”

  “She’s totally making that up,” says Mare.

  “No, she’s not. I talked to her about it myself. She’s not lying, and that’s why she hates us—or used to hate us. Because he never even congratulated her or told anyone she won the Piedmont Challenge.”

  “That’s really low of him,” says Ander.

  Jax shakes his head. “Just when we thought he couldn’t get any lower.”

  Seraphina arrives with more supplies, and we tell her about Martina. Her mouth hangs open. “That’s unbelievable. I wonder if she’ll ever reach out to him and tell him that she was here, that she made it all the way to Globals too.”

  “I don’t think so. I think she hates him now just like we do.”

  We get back to work, but none of us say anything. I guess my teammates are as stunned by the news as I am. I pick up some yellow thread and a needle and make the first stitch on my poodle skirt, sewing the Velcro on the left side, near the hem. Then I take the felt poodle that I made last night and stick it right on top. Meanwhile, Jax works on his hippy shirt and Ander works on his bell-bottom pants.

  Mare cuts into the neckline of her 80s sweatshirt. “Hey Kia, Ander said you don’t want to go on the Swirl and Spark Tour.”

  I bite my nail. “Um, yeah, I’m thinking maybe going on the Swirl and Spark Tour isn’t a great idea anymore. I mean, not all of us wanted to go in the beginning, like you, Mare, remember? And Jax, you weren’t really sure either. So if we win, maybe we should just say no and let another team take our place.”

  “But why?” asks Jillian. “It would be so fabulous to travel the world together! Why are you changing your mind now?”

  “Because my grandma’s hurt, and she needs me. I can’t leave her for a whole year.”

  Mare shakes her head. “But I thought your grandma was all about the Piedmont Challenge. Don’t you think she would want you to go if we won?”

  I shrug.

  “Why are we talking about this now?” asks Jax. “We haven’t even competed yet.”

  “Because!” says Mare. “If all of us don’t really want to win, then we won’t try our hardest. Isn’t that what you said, Kia, when you tried to convince me to go?”

  I look at my fingernail nubs. “Yeah, but it’s different now that my grandma is in the hospital.”

  “So you’d bail on all of us now? After all this?”

  I don’t know what to say to her. I’d want to go with my team, but I’d want to go to PIPS too. At least then I could see my grandma once in a while. It’s only eight hours away, not the other side of the world. I don’t want to let everyone down, but no matter what I choose, someone will be mad at me. “I don’t know!” I blurt out and run out of the clubhouse.

  Seraphina follows me to the front of the tree suite, and I suddenly feel stupid again for storming off. “I have to go inside and get something. Can you wait for me on the front step?” She doesn’t wait for my answer, but instead scurries up the metal tree suite steps with her heels tapping along the way. Soon she reappears and sits beside me.

  I can feel her staring at me. “What do you think it will be like at PIPS, Kia?”

  I sit up straight. “I think it’ll be awesome. We’ll get to build our inventions—the Ancestor App and the Satellite Spectacles.”

  “Could any of the other kids at PIPS build them—or are you the only ones? Since you thought up the ideas?”

  I shake my head and laugh. “No, we don’t even know how to build stuff yet. They would teach us.”

  “That’s true. What about the Underwater Bubble Bike?”

  “You know about that?”

  “And your sixty-six other inventions.”

  “How do you know about those?”

  She smirks. “I have my ways.”

  “Okay, so yeah. Hopefully we can build those too, why?”

  “Kia, don’t you understand? You’re smart and so are your teammates. But so are the hundreds of kids who are here. Any of you, and all of you, can go to PIPS and learn how to build the inventions you’ve thought up.”

  “So you don’t think we should bother going to PIPS?”

  “I didn’t say that. What I’m wondering though, is if you were lucky enough to place in the top three tomorrow, and have the opportunity to go on the tour, would that be a good choice for you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “What do you think the point of the Swirl and Spark Tour is?”

  “To show kids our cool inventions.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “It’s not?”

  “It’s true you would show them your cool inventions, but your role would be to inspire kids to do what you’ve done—to think more, work hard, and dream big.”

  “But anyone could do that.”

  “Could they? What
do you think kids would rather see? A demonstration of an invention by kids in lab coats, or a play showing them a real-life entertaining scenario of an invention in action?”

  My stomach flips over. I picture kids all over the world watching us do our plays.

  “Your team is special, Kia. What you’ve done together is special. You are the ones who thought to demonstrate your invention in the form of a play. By yourselves you’re great, but together you’re spectacular. You could be the ones who inspire other kids to be spectacular too.”

  I suddenly feel important. Like I could do important things.

  “But I know you have your grandma to consider, so you should think about what you really want. If PIPS is really what you want, right now, and that’s your choice, then no one will be mad if that’s what you decide.”

  I picture Grandma Kitty lying in her hospital bed. I hate that picture in my head.

  “You know, Kia. When we spoke as a whole team about the results of the Piedmont Challenge, there was something I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to know, unless it was absolutely necessary, but maybe now is a good time.”

  That sounds strange. “What is it?”

  “I told you that you scored the highest in Swirl and Spark Recall, and that right after that your next highest score was Math.”

  “I remember, and I was kind of bummed out because Swirl and Spark Recall isn’t even a category.”

  “Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t of great importance. I may have told you that you scored very high in that task, but that was not the whole story.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  “Not exactly. In the Swirl and Spark Recall category, students are awarded triple points to their score. That way students who are creative will be awarded appropriately for being . . . well—creative.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “Many children, even with their score being tripled, don’t score very high in that task. On the other hand, some children score very high in that task because their score is tripled.”

  I nod. “I get it.”

  “But for you it was different.”

  “It was?”

  “Yes, it was. Your score in the Swirl and Spark Recall task was the highest in all of New York State—even without being tripled.”

  “It was?”

  Seraphina smiles. “Yes. You didn’t need it to be tripled in order for you to win.”

  “I scored that high?”

  “In solving that task, you did something that none of the other children in the state did. You understood, whether you knew it at the time or not, the essence of the Piedmont Challenge.”

  “What do you mean, the essence of the Piedmont Challenge?”

  “You solved the task using all six categories—in the most creative and thought-provoking way possible.”

  “I did?”

  “I bet you could tell me how you did it—how you used skills from all six categories to solve that task.”

  I think about that for a second. “Let me see. I thought up a poem about mermaids and sang it. I also wore my belt, socks, and shoes like a costume.”

  “So you used skills from what category for that?”

  “That would be Art Forms.”

  “What else?”

  “I talked about teaching my friends the language of the water world. That would fall under Communications.”

  “Yes, what else?”

  “I talked about water, which we study in Earth and Space, and I talked about teaching kids how to breathe under water . . . oh and squids are in there too! The kids play soccer with them.”

  Seraphina laughs. “Of course!”

  “So sports would fall under Human history, right?”

  “Right.”

  “I also said something about submarines and friendship, so I guess those would fall under Human history too.”

  “They would. What about Math and New Technology?”

  “Well, I talked about giving my million new friends water gliders so they can swim with me, so I guess I’d have to calculate how many fins they need so that would show Math skills . . . and water gliders are an invention that make humans able to swim deep down in the ocean. That’s New Technology!”

  Seraphina tucks her foot underneath her. “Wow, you did use skills from all six categories. What was the question you had to answer?”

  “‘If you could be anything else besides yourself, what would you be and why?’”

  “And what did you say?”

  “I said I would be a mermaid, so I could swim with my new friends all summer—and I acted it out and sang.”

  Her eyes get big. “No wonder you won this.” She opens her hand and a shiny metal light switch shimmers in the sunlight. “I was going to give this to you after the completion of the entire Piedmont Competition, but I want you to have it now. On behalf of the Piedmont Organization, this is for you, Kia. This Silver Switch represents your superb ability to access information from all six categories and turn on your creative thoughts with ease . . . like the flip of a switch.”

  I take the small metal switch from her hand. Seraphina’s smiling her big purple lipstick smile. “Congratulations.”

  I bite my lip. “I won this?”

  “You did. See those tiny stars engraved on it?”

  I rub my finger over the surface and a smile breaks free. “They sparkle.”

  “Just like you.”

  I flip up the switch. “It even turns on.”

  “Well, of course!”

  I close my hand around it. “I can’t believe I won this. But why did you give it to me now though?”

  “You’ll have a big decision to make if your team places in the top three in this competition. I thought you should have all the facts as you consider what’s important to you.”

  She leans in to hug me. “Congratulations, Kia. Being awarded the Silver Switch is a very big deal.”

  “Thanks, Seraphina. I’m really happy I have it, but is it okay if we don’t tell the rest of the team I got it? I don’t want them to feel bad or anything.”

  “That’s entirely up to you, but I promise I won’t tell them.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m going to go check on the others. I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes, but we need you back soon to finish up your costume. You don’t want to wear a poodle skirt with no poodle, do you?”

  I shake my head.

  “Oh, and Kia, one more thing. Have you thought at all about your balloon message? Maybe that will help.”

  My balloon message? I forgot all about that.

  Our true dreams are sometimes different than what we wish for. Have the courage to make your true dream come true.

  I try to think of what my true dream is. It’s always been to win the Piedmont Challenge so I could go to PIPS and build my sixty-seven inventions. I think back to the Piedmont Challenge—and all the tasks I solved in each category. I think back to the day I solved the Swirl and Spark Recall task, when I was just trying to answer the judge’s question as honestly and creatively as I could.

  “If you could be anyone else besides yourself, who would you be and why?”

  My mind jumps all over the place before an idea comes to me. I rush to ask, “Can I use props in my answer?”

  “Yes, as long as you do not move outside the taped off area.”

  “Can I sing part of my answer?”

  “Yes.”

  I reach for my shoes. The straps are tricky, but I manage to get them off. I set them down, take off my knee socks, and unfasten my belt. I tug it from the loops of my skirt, wrap it twice around my legs, and then buckle it back together. I pull one sock over each arm. I lay on the floor sideways and I prop myself up on my elbow. A tune from a TV commercial pops into my head . . . If I can just change the w
ords—

  Ding!

  “If I could be anything, I would be a mermaid. I would invite human kids to spend their summer vacation with me. First, I’d speak to them in the language of the water world, which of course is made up of songs like this:

  “Summer break is here at last and you need something new,

  Let me show you where I live and all that we can do.

  I’ll teach you how to use your mind to breathe first out then in,

  And give you water gliders, that work just like real fins.

  We’ll dive deep down into the sea and find a sunken ship,

  Or play some soccer with the squids and take a submarine trip.”

  When I’m done singing, I slide across the floor like I’m swimming and hold up my shoes. “Then, I’d present the human kids these water gliders. They’d put them on and together we’d explore all summer. I’d have a million new friends, and that’s why I’d choose to be a mermaid if I could.”

  I stare at the sparkly silver switch in my hand. So what is my true dream? I can’t be a mermaid, teaching humans to swim underwater with me, so I guess that’s out. But then I jump to my feet and stick the switch in my pocket. Why am I trying to figure this out now? We haven’t even placed in the top three yet. We haven’t even competed yet! What is wrong with me? My team is counting on me. Besides, the only way Satellite Spectacles will be built is if we win. So many people are counting on us—people like Grandma Kitty, who wouldn’t have crashed if she had been wearing them. So even though people don’t know about it yet, we have to try our hardest for them.

  I run behind the tree suite to my team and plop myself inside the log area. “Okay, guys. I’m sorry I was such a jerk before. I’m going to try my hardest when we compete because the Satellite Spectacles have to win. We can figure the rest out later.”

  My teammates look relieved. “Okay, good,” says Ander. “Now, can you help me with this purple shirt? It’s perfect for my disco outfit, but it doesn’t fit.”

  I take the shirt and hold it up to him. “We could pin it, I guess. No one would notice the pins under the jacket. But wait, where’s my poodle skirt? I still need to attach the poodle!”