“We can also move the Unicorn Book Club meetings to Saturday afternoons,” I offer. I’m sure my mom would let me have my best friends over to talk about books.
“What if we pass around a journal and each write something that has happened to us in it? Then we can keep sharing experiences with each other,” Daisy says.
We all have ideas to keep our group connected. Even as good as the ideas are, they still don’t change the fact that Siri won’t be here to be my yard guard partner or my running buddy or to eat lunch with me. The Unicorns will be missing a member. I’m not really sure if a weekend book club will work. My lunch sits unopened for the second time this week.
Siri rubs her eyes with another borrowed napkin. “Can we change the subject?”
Everyone nods, but no one has any idea what to say. My mind is going over all the things that will be different without Siri here.
She turns to me then. “Ruby, any book news?”
I do have something to talk about, and with everything else that has happened, I almost forgot. “The book I’m reading is about a researcher who searched for unicorns in the world. I think she might have found one, but the clues are hidden in her research, and no one else has ever been able to discover the unicorn.”
I look around to see if my friends are interested in hearing more. They are all eating their lunches and listening to me. So I continue. “I found out that there is an exhibit with her notes at the Natural History Museum!”
I expect my friends to be excited about this news—and they are. There is so much chatter about unicorns and the exhibit that I almost can’t bring myself to tell them the bad news about it. “I asked Mrs. Sablinsky if we could see the exhibit next week, and she said there won’t be time.”
There is a chorus of “awwww” and “no way” from my friends. Daisy even makes her sad, puppy-dog face. I know how to see the exhibit—but I will need help to do it.
I always make big announcements in two parts, so I begin with:
“I think I know how we can go anyway, even if Mrs. Sablinsky won’t let us.” All eyes are on me.
“We’ll run away from the field trip.”
Jessica catches on right away. “Sort of like From the Mixed-Up Files.”
“But our version,” Siri adds with a sparkly smile at me.
“It’s a real mystery!” Charlotte is super-excited.
Daisy doesn’t look so sure. “We might get in trouble.”
“We also might get away with it,” Charlotte whispers as she passes out square cheese crackers.
“But how?” Jessica asks as she eats the cracker in one bite. She crunches as she waits for me to answer.
“Like Claudia—with expert planning,” I answer.
By the time the bell rings for the end of lunch, we have all agreed: next Thursday will be the day of the Great Museum Escape.
• • •
In class, we have time to do research on the computer for our book reports. I decide to look up the layout of the Natural History Museum.
I draw out my own map and track where the class will be going with little footprints. I know from Mrs. S that the class will be seeing mammals, insects, and dinosaurs. Then there will be a surprise. I can’t tell whether that will be the whale exhibit or the butterfly pavilion. Just in case, I mark both areas. Next, I plan an escape route. The main issue will be timing. If we leave school for the museum at 8:30 a.m. and arrive at the museum by 9:15 a.m., we will have exactly three hours in which to escape, visit Lavender Lakewood’s exhibit, decipher her codes, and return to the class tour before lunchtime.
Three hours might not be enough time to figure out a mystery that has stumped even the world’s smartest historians and researchers. I decide that the best plan is for us to come up with a few theories before the museum visit. That way, we will already be prepared with options.
On my map, I include all the halls and exhibits as well as the main entrance and emergency exits (it’s always a good idea to be prepared), restrooms, the restaurant, and the gift shop.
The last part of our day is spent with quiet reading time—more Lavender Lakewood for me! I open volume two, the one with her field notes, and start reading:
I begin by assembling notes from researchers before me. Then I look at other creatures like the unicorn. Wild horses and deer are a good place to start. I move into the forest and set up camp. There, I begin to think like a unicorn. As a prey animal, the unicorn must rely on its own courage, ability to camouflage, and quick thinking to protect itself. I begin to track through the forests of Europe one at a time. I look for areas of dense coverage, available water, and generous amounts of sunlight.
• • •
Mom is waiting for me outside of school. “How was your day?” she asks right away.
“Not so good,” I tell her. “I found out that Siri is moving schools in January.”
Mom knows better than to have this conversation in front of school. She just slings my backpack over her arm and takes my hand in hers. Once we are in the car though, she wants the whole story. I tell her all of it, even the part where I voted against Siri in book club before I understood that reading one last book together was really important to her.
“I’m sorry to hear about Siri. She’s been your friend for a long time, and I know how much you’ll miss her.” She is at a stoplight, so she turns around to the backseat to look right at me. “It sounds like it will be a hard time for both of you.”
“I don’t think we will want to have a book club without her,” I say over the grumble of my stomach. I’ve really missed a lot of meals lately. I think I’ll have to make up for it this weekend. Maybe I can ask Mom to make veggie burgers and fries.
“You could have meetings on the weekends,” Mom suggests. “It would be a nice way to see each other.”
“We thought about that too.” Meetings on the weekends wouldn’t be the same. But there would be one good thing that could come out of it. “At least there wouldn’t be any food fights ending our meetings early.”
“That’s true. But Abe might join your group. Are you open to dog members?” Mom stops the car at a red light. She looks over her shoulder again to smile at me.
I want to smile with her, but I am not in a smiling mood. Here is the question that has been in my mind since Siri told me she was switching schools: “Do you think Siri and I will stay friends?”
“If she is important enough to you, then you will make sure the friendship lasts.”
“She is important to me,” I answer.
“I know,” Mom says softly. Neither one of us says anything after that. The words just kind of drift in the air like a swirly, blue fog.
Mom parks at the grocery store. Sometimes we stop for a few things before we get Sam and Connor. I have something else to say though.
“I thought I knew how everything was going to be, and now I don’t. It makes me feel like I fell down Alice’s rabbit hole.” I take a big breath because the tears that are filling my eyes are somehow making my breath come in bursts. (How is it that tiny tears can be so powerful?)
She turns around in her seat to look at me. “Ruby, there are some things in life that we can’t control. This is one of them. You can’t change the decision Siri’s family has made. But you can make your own decisions.” Mom hands me a tissue.
“Like what?” I sniffle. I have to admit that I am in full crying mode now.
“Deciding to continue being Siri’s friend. Deciding to keep your book club together. Opening your heart to making new friends.”
“I can do all that,” I tell her.
“I know you can,” Mom says as she touches her finger to my nose.
When I get out of the car, I wrap my arms around Mom and hold on tight. Sometimes a hug is better than words—and this is one of those times.
• • •
Saturday morning is spent on holiday crafting. Mom gets out all these different ribbons, shapes made out of wood, and paints in every color. Then, we sit at the kitchen table and make picture frames and bulletin boards. The frames are easy because all we do is paint and glue the wood pieces into rectangle shapes. The bulletin boards are a little more complicated. First, we cover the wood in a fabric, and then we crisscross ribbons on the board to make little diamond shapes. We wrap the ribbons around the edges of the wood, and Mom staples them to the back. Pictures will fit underneath the ribbons and stay on the board.
I think Mom asked me to craft with her this morning to take my mind off of Siri leaving school. She even turns on the radio so we can listen to the oldies station while we work. But no matter what I am doing, my heart aches. In a few weeks, I will have to say goodbye to my best friend. I know it’s not forever, but it feels like it is. Maybe my other friends will change schools too. Then I will be left all alone like one of those sneakers you sometimes see in the middle of the street. Once or twice, I’ve even spotted a sneaker hanging from the top of a telephone pole. I don’t know how the sneaker got there, but I do know that the one shoe looks really lonely without its other half.
• • •
Crafting is hard work. By the time we’re finished, I’m ready for lunch. Mom makes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with cut-up green apples on the side. Yum! (Confession time: I love green apples almost as much as I love pickles.) Abe sits underneath the table, of course, but he pokes his nose out from time to time, just to remind us that he is here. Abe is a big fan of peanut butter.
Sam eats lunch with us. Connor and Dad have gone out to the hardware store to get supplies for one of Connor’s science projects, so it’s just the three of us (and Abe).
Sam talks about his cookie flavors. “I’m thinking of cranberry-coconut sugar cookies, chocolate-peppermint cookies, or lemon drop cookies. What do you think?”
I love anything coconut, so usually I would vote for those. But the lemon drops sound way more unusual. “If you were on a baking show, I would say lemon drops would get the judges’ attention.”
Sam nods. “You’re right. They would add something different though, like basil or cinnamon.”
Mom grins at me. “I bet Ruby would add pickles.”
I laugh. “I would! They go with everything.”
Sam shakes his head. He isn’t as obsessed with pickles. “I’m going to skip pickles this time. No offense.” He finishes his second peanut butter sandwich. “But I think I will add honey to the cookies.”
“That sounds delicious. I can’t wait to try them,” Mom says. I help her clear the plates from the table. Abe follows along behind me, hoping I accidentally drop one of the plates. (I don’t.)
“Would you videotape me, so I can practice speaking on camera?” Sam asks me.
“I’d love to!” is my answer. I borrow Dad’s video camera and hurry back to the kitchen. Sam measures out all the ingredients and puts them in a line on the counter in clear glass bowls. It looks super-professional. He’s like a TV chef already!
“When you’re finished, I’ll make my chocolate chip cookies,” Mom tells us. “I could use a helper.”
“You can count on me,” I promise. I love baking chocolate chip cookies. Mom always lets me sample the chocolate chips before we add them into the cookie batter.
“I think it’s time for Abe and me to take a walk,” Mom says. The minute Abe hears the word walk, he runs over to the kitchen door and starts whining. Mom can’t get the leash fast enough for him. He spins around in circles and jumps up on the door.
Mom waves to us from the doorway. “The kitchen’s all yours.”
I stand across the counter from my brother, so I can see his face and his hands while he mixes the ingredients. He’s really good at the talking part. He says things like, “First, you want to measure out your dry ingredients. Next, mix them together in a large bowl and set it aside,” and, “Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. The cookies will bake evenly if you cover your pan with parchment paper dusted with flour.” I watch as my brother cracks the eggs with one hand and doesn’t even get one drop on the counter.
“You’re as good as one of the bakers on Cupcake Champions!” I tell Sam. “Only you’re a cookie champion.”
When he’s all finished and the cookies come out of the oven, the whole house smells like lemonade and sugar cookies. Here are my top three favorite smells:
1. New books
2. Libraries
3. Freshly baked cookies
Sam and I sit down to try one of the warm cookies. The rest are for Gram’s cookie party tomorrow.
“Did any of your good friends ever switch schools?” I ask him. I can’t remember this ever happening to him, but I ask anyway.
Sam cuts the cookie in half. “I had one friend that went to a different middle school for a year. Then he came back because he didn’t like the other school. I knew someone else who switched to a different high school for a year too. She returned this year.” We each take a bite. Mmmmm! It’s tangy and sugary.
“It’s so delicious!” I tell him. “This might be the best cookie I’ve ever tasted.”
“Thanks,” he says with a grin. “I hope Gram likes them.” Then he gets serious. “Siri might not stay at the other school. You never know what will happen in the future. All you can do is focus on today.” I could listen to my brother and only focus on today—or I could change the future. I think I know the perfect way to do it.
Chapter 10
The Unicorn Seekers
Monday morning, I hurry to find Siri. “I have a plan,” I say as part one of my signature two-part announcement. Then I tell her part two: “We are going to become world-famous Unicorn Seekers.”
“I’ll still have to go to a different school in January,” Siri points out.
I shake my head. That’s the perfection of my plan. “You won’t have to go to school at all! None of us will. We’ll be traveling all over the world giving speeches and sharing our research. And we’ll be together!”
Siri claps her hands together. “Unicorn Seekers! I like it. I can even design special outfits for us when we give our speeches.”
Siri and I are in an empty white room with three doors. In my hand, I hold one of her teardrops. All her sadness is in this one single tear. In Siri’s hand, she holds one of my teardrops. All of my sadness is in that tear. In the room, there are three doors—one red, one blue, and one green. I open the blue door, and outside, we can see an ocean of tears. Siri and I gently slip the teardrops into the ocean. We watch as our teardrops float away.
After a lesson in social studies, we have time in the library for more reading and research. Mrs. S likes our reports to be completed at school, so our parents won’t be taking over and writing the papers for us. I know I should be working on my paper. I have two whole books to read. But instead, I meet with the Unicorns at the back table and discuss our plan.
“If we find the last unicorn, then we will be too famous to go to school. We can stay together and write books and visit museums. School won’t be important anymore.”
“Who is going to travel with us?” Daisy asks. “My mom won’t let me go to the store by myself. I’m guessing traveling to London or Paris would be a definite no.”
I have it all figured out. “My grandma can be our chaperone. She loves to travel.”
The Unicorns like that idea. The group chatter starts up now. I have to settle everyone down. This must be the way Mrs. S feels on a Friday after assembly. It’s hard to get everyone’s attention focused. “We can’t get famous if we don’t actually find the unicorn. Keeping Siri with us depends on solving the mystery. And that all begins on the field trip. We have to work out how to escape to the exhibit.”
My friends are all looking at me now. No one is talking anymore. I have brought my map with me, so I pull it out of
my jeans pocket and unfold it on the table. “I made this, so we can plan our escape. Here is where I think the class will be going.” I point to the mammal hall. “After that, we are going here.” I trace my finger along the path to the insect room. “We’ll have to escape when the class goes to see the dinosaurs.”
“I wanted to see the dinosaurs,” Jessica says with a little frown.
I understand. I want to see the dinosaurs too. “We might make it back in time. If we solve the mystery really quick, it will be like we never left at all.”
“Could we leave earlier?” Charlotte wants to know. “Then we won’t miss the dinosaurs.”
I shake my head. “We can’t leave right away. It’ll be too obvious. We have to slip away in the middle of the tour.”
“How are we going to just walk away from the class?” Siri asks. She is leaning over, studying the map as if the paper has the answer.
I look up to make sure Mrs. Xia and Mrs. S aren’t watching us. I see them at the front desk, chatting. I wonder what they would have to talk about—books, maybe, or sensible dinner foods. But I can’t get distracted by my imagination right now. I have to plot an escape.
I whisper, “We can get away in groups of two and three.” This will be better than all of us leaving at once. It will be less noticeable, anyway.
Jessica looks at Daisy, who nods. “We’ll stay together.”
“Great,” I answer. “Siri and Charlotte and I will be a team then.”
“We can ask to go to the bathroom,” Siri suggests. “Then we can pretend to walk in the bathroom but really go the other way to the unicorn exhibit.”
“And Jessica and Daisy can take extra time looking at one of the exhibits and drop behind,” I add. “Then they can slip out of the exhibit and meet us.” This could work. “We might need a lookout though—someone on the inside who isn’t trying to leave.” I am thinking Will P might be this person.
“We shouldn’t involve anyone else. If they told someone, we could get in big trouble,” Charlotte warns.
The Great Museum Mix-Up and Other Surprise Endings Page 7
