by Natasha Deen
1. Someone is playing pranks.
2. That someone has to have a motive.
3. The play is going to be shut down if the pranks continue.
4. People are going to be very sad if the play is shut down
5. The prankster is going to be happy if the play is shut down.
I tapped my pencil against my chin. I wasn’t sure how the prankster would feel, so I made a change.
5. The prankster is MAYBE going to be happy if the play is shut down.
6. Someone has taken the light bulbs, moved the props, cut off the buttons from the costumes, removed the wooden flowers, stapled the curtains together and left blue stains on some of the costumes.
That was better. Now I could see everything I needed to see. But there were still lots of questions in my brain.
Why would the prankster want to shut down the play? And why were they pulling so many different pranks? I closed my eyes and thought of how hard everybody was working. And I kept my eyes closed and thought of the prankster. They were working hard too—but in a bad way.
When I had talked to Miss Balza, we’d thought maybe the prankster was mad. But no one seemed mad. Not even Sophie. Maybe the prankster had a different feeling. I thought of all the reasons someone might want the play to shut down. Maybe they were afraid they would get hurt because of all the stuff going on. They could cut themselves building the set. They could fall off a ladder. They could forget their lines. They could forget to turn the lights on or off.
Then I thought about where everyone had been during the day. Halmoni had been working on the lights. Kate, Franklin and Loi had been on stage. Miss Balza had been all over the place. Mr. Folopoulos had been in one of the theater seats.
Then I thought about everything I had seen at the scenes of the pranks. I wrote down those things too. We had found Loi’s charm, a penny, blue makeup, a dime, a quarter, a receipt, sequins, a black sock, some metal clips and a long string of black thread.
I looked at all the things I had written down. And I looked at my hand, holding the pencil. Then I closed my eyes and thought, and then I thought some more.
My eyes snapped open. I knew who the culprit was but it didn’t make me very happy.
I jumped up from the ground and ran for the theater door. It flew open and Connor ran out. He held up his paper. “I thought about what you said, about how Sophie might not be the culprit. And I thought about the blue stuff we’d seen on the makeup table, and the blue stuff Halmoni said was on the costumes.”
“You thought it was blueberry juice.”
He nodded. “At first we thought it was makeup. Then we thought it was blueberry juice. But then I started thinking about acting and pretending and the prankster’s motive,” he said. “And we thought maybe the person was angry—”
“But they’re not angry,” I said. “They’re scared.”
“Right,” said Connor. “At lunch, when we were talking to Loi—”
“—she had the red stuff on her hands.”
“Right,” he said. “And you said she had ketchup on her hands. But she was eating fruit, so it couldn’t have been ketchup.”
“It wasn’t,” I said sadly. “If it had been ketchup, then when she grabbed my hand I would’ve gotten ketchup on my fingers. But it was dried paint.” I held up my hand. “That’s why my hands don’t have anything on them. Halmoni and Miss Balza were painting the flowers. They must have still been wet when Loi moved them.”
“Kate said she was using Loi’s pens and they had left ink on her fingers. That’s the blue stuff. Not makeup or blueberry juice, but ink.”
I nodded. “The prankster is Loi.”
“This doesn’t make me feel good,” he said. “I like Loi, and I don’t want to get her in trouble.”
“Me either, but we made a promise to Halmoni and Miss Balza.” I thought of Sophie. “Plus, there’s a whole bunch of people who deserve to have the play go on. What Loi did wasn’t right. And we almost got Sophie in trouble.”
He nodded. “Let’s go talk to Halmoni and Miss Balza.”
We found Halmoni and Miss Balza and told them what we thought. Miss Balza called Loi over. As soon as she saw us, Loi said, “It was at lunch, wasn’t it? You saw the paint.”
“I thought it was ketchup,” said Connor.
“Plus the blue stuff on the costumes,” I said. “The prankster didn’t play the same trick twice. It was the makeup table, then the costumes, then the flowers. It didn’t make sense for the prankster to play another trick with the costumes. So why did you go back?”
“I wanted to see if my soccer-ball charm was there,” she said.
“And you got blue ink on the clothes.”
“Loi, why would you do something like this?” asked Halmoni.
She started to cry. “I thought I could manage the role of Alice and it would be fun. But it is so much harder than I thought. No matter how much I practice, I can’t remember my lines. And I got scared. I thought of what would happen if I forgot my lines onstage with everyone watching.”
“But your pranks are going to cost the theater money—not to mention all the delays,” said Miss Balza.
“I’m so sorry.” Loi cried harder. “I wasn’t trying to be mean or make anyone mad. I only wanted to get more time. I didn’t think Mr. Folopoulos would shut down the play.”
“We’re going to have to talk to your parents,” said Miss Balza. “And I’m not sure if Mr. Folopoulos or the other folks in the theater will want you to be part of the play anymore.”
“I’m sorry,” Loi said again. “And I’m really sorry to you guys. I know it was hard to tell Halmoni and Miss Balza. I’m sorry I let you down.”
“You didn’t let me down,” said Connor.
“Me neither,” I said. “I just wish you had told somebody you were scared instead of playing pranks.”
“I didn’t know how to ask for more time,” she said. “And I was scared everyone would be mad because they thought I was letting them down.” The tears fell down her face. “But it doesn’t matter because they’ll still be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you,” I said. “I feel sad.”
“Me too,” said Connor.
Loi left with Halmoni and Miss Balza.
“Will you tell me if you’re afraid of anything?” asked Connor.
“I promise. Will you?”
“Yes.”
A little while later Loi, Mr. Folopoulos, Miss Balza, Loi’s parents and Halmoni came onstage. Loi explained what she’d done and why, and she apologized. Then Mr. Folopoulos said, “Loi will pay for the dry cleaning. She will also fix the makeup tables and help sew the buttons back on the costumes. But in regard to her being part of the play, I thought we would leave it to you to decide.”
I raised my hand. “I’m okay with her being part of the play. She said sorry, and she meant it.”
“Plus, she’s fixing her mistakes,” Connor added. “I’m okay with her staying on.”
The rest of the folks in the theater agreed.
“Because there should be a consequence for what Loi did,” said Mr. Folopoulos, “she will split her part with Sophie. Half of the time, Sophie will be Alice. The other half of the time, Loi will be Alice.”
“Wow!” Sophie said. “That’s cool! My babushka will get to see me perform!”
Halmoni came off the stage, and I went to see her.
“That was a good job you did,” she said. “It took excellent observational skills to realize the red stains on her hands were paint and not ketchup. And it was very clever to realize the blue smudges were ink.”
“Thanks,” I said, “but I don’t feel very happy.”
“Oh,” she said. “Why not?”
“I like Loi, and I didn’t like getting her in trouble.”
“First of all,” said Halmoni, “Loi got herself in trouble, not you. But I know how you feel. I like Loi too, and I didn’t like seeing her get into trouble either. Sometimes doing the right thing isn’t the same a
s doing the easy thing. But I’m very proud of all three of you. You and Connor told us what you discovered. Loi apologized and will work to fix her mistake.
“I think now more than ever Loi could use a friend.” Halmoni smiled at me. “And I bet if you got a chance to talk to her, and help her with her feelings, you’ll get that happy feeling for having done the right thing.”
The next morning Loi, Connor and I knocked on Sophie’s door.
“Baa baa Lark sheep,” she said when she opened the door and saw us. “What do you guys want?”
Loi held out her hand. “I wanted to say I’m doubly sorry to you. I didn’t think the blue smudges might look like blueberry juice. I almost got you in trouble for something I did.”
Sophie shrugged and took Loi’s hand. “Thanks, I guess.”
“I wonder if you might practice with me? Maybe I’ll remember the lines better with your help?” Loi asked.
“Of course you will,” said Sophie. “I’m a great actor and an excellent teacher.” She looked at Connor and me. “Why are you two here?”
“Connor and I are going to the library this afternoon. Would you like to come with us?”
“Why would I go to the library?”
“Because you said you and your babushka had run out of things to make with blueberries. If we go to the library, I bet we can find a book with all sorts of things you can do with blueberries.”
“Hmm.” She thought for a minute. “Okay, Lark sheep. That’s a great idea. I’ll come to your house later and we can go to the library.”
I grinned. This really was the bestest day ever!
THE WORDS LARK LOVES
CHAPTER ONE:
“Anyway, I decided I’m a Venus flytrap. They’re carniv—carnival—” I couldn’t remember the word. “They’re plants that hunt bugs and eat them. So I don’t have to be soft.”
This awesome word is carnivorous, and it’s a word used to describe an animal or plant that eats meat. For example, the dinosaur Tyrannosaurus rex ate other dinosaurs, and that made him a carnivorous animal.
CHAPTER FIVE:
I felt…it started with a d or maybe a j, and it was a good word that meant I felt extra sad.
The word Lark was thinking of is dejected. It’s a super-great word that means you’re feeling really, really sad. For Lark, not being able to solve the case left her feeling dejected.
THE STUFF LARK
*ALMOST* GOT RIGHT
CHAPTER TWO:
Halmoni laughed. “I can see—you’re beside yourself!”
That would be impossible. Being beside yourself means being extremely happy! When Lark gets to be part of the play, she’s so excited and happy that she’s beside herself.
CHAPTER SEVEN:
“Yes, but I know if you put your heads together, you’ll figure it out.”
Halmoni didn’t mean for Lark and Connor to actually put their heads together. Putting your heads together means working as a team, trading ideas and trying to come up with the solution to a problem together.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to my fabulous editor, Liz Kemp. Her suggestions make Lark and Connor’s adventures so much better. My gratitude as well to the entire Orca pod for being so wonderful and for all their efforts with the series. Finally, thank you to Marcus Cutler for his amazing illustrations.
Award-winning author NATASHA DEEN loves stories—exciting ones, scary ones and, especially, funny ones! Her most recent stories include Lark Holds the Key (starred selection, CCBC Best Books for Kids & Teens), Terminate and Across the Floor (starred selection, CCBC Best Books for Kids & Teens). When she’s not working on her books or visiting schools and libraries, she spends a lot of time trying to convince her dogs and cats that she’s the boss of the house. Visit her at natashadeen.com.
Chapter One
My name is Lark Ba, and I have ants in my pants. Not really. That would be gross. And not so much fun for the ants. Ants in my pants means it’s hard for me to sit quietly. It’s something my halmoni—that’s Korean for grandmother—says when I’m really exsited exceted excited. Only I wasn’t sitting—I was lying down in bed. Waiting. Patient-like. Until…
“Psst. Connor.” I leaned over and looked at the bottom bunk. “Connor, are you awake?” Connor’s my little brother. He’s much younger than me.
“Yes. I’m awake. Are you?”
I sighed. “Yes. If I was sleeping, I wouldn’t be talking, would I?”
“Yes, you would. You talk a lot.”
I ignored that. “Are you excited?”
“Yes. Today is going to be awesome.”
“It’s going to be the bestest day ever!”
“Lark, you say that every day. Anyway, bestest isn’t a word.”
I sighed. “It should be. It’s a great word.” I love words. Maybe I should be a writer when I grow up. Then I could make up great words like bestest. I turned on the lamp and said, “Yep. I’m gonna be a writer. Then I’m gonna make bestest a word.”
“Lark, gonna isn’t a word either. Anyway, I thought you were going to be an actor.”
“I think I’ll be both. That way, I can write the stories I want to act in.”
Connor rolled his eyes.
I decided to be patient because he was just little. I climbed down from the top bunk. Today was the third day of summer vacation. On the first day, Connor and I started a circus. We tried to teach our dog, Max, how to dance. He wasn’t so good at that. And we broke two lamps. Mom said we had to do something else. Something that didn’t include Max. Or her lamps.
Yesterday, we tried to do a people-only circus with our friends Kate and Franklin. No lamps were broken. But Franklin tried to do a special jump. He jumped great. But he also made a hole in the wall with his head. Dad said no more circuses. He used his grumpy voice. And that’s when Halmoni suggested we all go to the library instead.
Only Halmoni didn’t call it a library. She called it The Temple of Secrets. She said books contained secrets between their pages. And when you read a book, you could find all kinds of treasure!
“I’m going to get fifty books,” I told Connor.
“I’m going to get a hundred. Do you think Mom and Dad will remember to take us?”
I nodded. “Yes. I put a note on the fridge. And in the bathroom. And in their shoes. And in their coat pockets.” I would have put one in their car too. But Babu—that’s Swahili for grandfather—told me a long time ago that I wasn’t supposed to be in the car without a grown-up.
“Are you sure they won’t forget?” Connor looked worried.
I knew because his forehead went all skiggly sqwiggly squiggly.
“What if they don’t wake up in time?”
I sighed. Little brothers are so much work. “If you’re worried, let’s go check.”
“I’m not worried, but the last time we woke them up—”
“I say we should go. It shows we have…” I couldn’t remember the word. It started with an n or maybe an i, and it was a good word. “It shows we care. I’m your big sister, and that’s my decision.”
“You are not older!”
“Yes I am.”
“We’re twins!”
“I’m the older one.”
He made a growly noise. “Only by ten minutes.”
“Still older.” I gave him my best big-sister look. “Are you going to come with me? Or are you too scared?”
