“Mr. Morton? Could I take a tray with me to the playground today?” he asked. “Please?”
“What for?” asked Mr. Morton. Ian told him his great idea, and Mr. Morton said, “Well, I don’t see why not. Go ahead.”
So Ian zipped up his jacket, put on his hat and mittens, grabbed a cafeteria tray, and ran outside. He carried his tray to the top of the hill at the far end of the playground. Then he looked out at the rest of the playground. He saw his classmates trickling outside. Most of them stood around glumly. They looked sadly at their snowforts. Then they looked angrily at each other.
Well, thought Ian, I am not going to be all mad and bored and waste my recess.
Ian placed the tray in the snow at the top of the hill. He looked at the bottom of the hill. He thought of the X-ers hurtling through space. And then he knelt down, threw himself on the tray, pushed off with his feet, and … whoosh!
Ian was hurtling through space. He felt like an X-er.
He flew down the snowy hill on his stomach. The wind blew his hair back, and Ian could feel icy air on his cheeks.
At the bottom of the hill, the tray came to a gentle stop.
Yes! thought Ian.
Ian carried the tray back to the top of the hill. This time he sat on the tray and sailed down the hill on his bottom.
Hurtling through space, thought Ian. Now I know why the X-ers like space travel so much.
At the bottom of the hill, Ian found himself looking up at Chris and Omar. Their eyes were shining.
“Cool idea, Ian,” said Chris. “Can we try that?”
APOLOGIES
Ian, Omar, and Chris took turns flying down the hill on the tray.
“Hey, Brain! Was that your idea?” Ricky asked. He joined the boys at the bottom of the hill.
“It was Ian’s idea,” replied Chris.
“Oh, well … can I try it?”
“Maybe we should get another tray,” said Omar.
“Get two more. We want to try, too,” said Nancy.
The Three Musketeers had joined the boys. A bunch of the other girls were watching nearby.
In the end Mr. Morton gave the kids in Ms. Colman’s class six more trays. The kids spent the rest of recess flying down the hill. When the bell rang, they stacked the trays by the door to the cafeteria. Then they lined up to go inside.
“Ian?” said Audrey while they were waiting. “I am really sorry I threw that ice-ball at you. I did not mean to hit you, you know.”
“I know,” said Ian.
“And I should not have thrown it anyway. It could have hurt Ricky or whoever it hit. But I did not think about that. I was too mad.”
“It is okay,” said Ian. “My tooth was going to come out soon anyway. And the Tooth Fairy gave me double, since it was knocked out. I got two dollars. Now I have almost enough to buy another book about the X-ers. They are my favorite books.”
“Hannie,” said Terri, “I am sorry I threw a snowball at you. I threw the first one yesterday. So … sorry.”
“It is okay,” replied Hannie.
Leslie tapped Bobby on the shoulder. “I am sorry I smashed in the side of your fort,” she said.
Ian began to feel better. He was grinning. So was Audrey. So were Hannie and Terri and Leslie and Bobby. By the time the kids returned to their classroom, they were all smiling.
Ms. Colman smiled back at them. “Well,” she said. “What is going on here? You look awfully happy.”
“Ian had a good idea,” Sara told her. “We went sledding on trays on the playground today.”
“Ms. Colman?” said Audrey. “I told Ian I was sorry I threw the iceball at him. And I am sorry. Ian was not part of the snow war.”
“No,” said Leslie. “We got mad at Ian, but nothing was his fault.”
“You know what?” spoke up Karen. “I did not really want to be so mad at everyone, especially not over the silly forts. So I should say I am sorry to Bobby and Ricky and Omar and Hank and Chris and Leslie and Audrey and Tammy and Terri and Jannie.”
“We were not just mad at the other groups,” added Ricky. “After yesterday we were all mad at each other.”
“And at you, Ms. Colman,” said Natalie. “We are sorry.”
“I accept your apology,” said Ms. Colman.
Ian sat at his desk and waited. He was waiting to hear Ms. Colman say the thing he thought she should say. When she did not say it, Ian raised his hand. “Ms. Colman,” he began, “I think something is not fair. I think it is not fair that you told the whole class we could not go to the carnival if the snow war did not stop. Because I was not part of the snow war. Plus, I got hurt.”
“Ian, you are right,” agreed Ms. Colman. “That was not fair. I was not thinking. I guess I got as mad as the rest of you did. I am very, very sorry.” She paused. Then she smiled again and said, “I do not think we have to worry about the carnival anymore, though, do we? Is the snow war over?”
“Yes!” cried the kids in Ms. Colman’s class.
SNIP, SNIP, SNIP
Now that the snow war was over, the kids in Ms. Colman’s class could think about their snowflake booth again. And they had a lot of work to do.
“We need to build the booth,” said Ms. Colman. “Maybe some of your parents could do that. Then we will paint it. We have to finish our snowflakes, of course. Also, we must think up fortunes to write on them. And we need to go shopping for the prizes.”
Karen raised her hand. “My stepfather is a carpenter,” she announced. “I bet he would help build the booth.”
Ms. Colman called some of the parents after school. Four of them decided to help Karen’s stepfather build the booth in his workshop one Saturday. Meanwhile, in school, the kids worked on the snowflakes.
“We have only two weeks until the carnival,” said Ms. Colman one morning. “I think that for part of every day we should divide into two groups. Half of you will cut out snowflakes. I will help the rest of you think of fortunes and write them on the snowflakes. How does that sound?”
“But I want to make snowflakes and write fortunes!” cried Tammy. “Not just one or the other.”
“Then the groups can switch,” Ms. Colman replied.
On the first day Ian was part of the group writing fortunes. He and seven other kids joined Ms. Colman in the back of the room.
“I do not know what to write,” said Natalie. “How do I know what is going to happen to people? How can I tell their fortunes?”
“Natalie, we are not really telling fortunes. Are we, Ms. Colman?” said Karen. “We will just make things up.”
“The fortunes could be silly,” added Omar.
“Like ‘Be careful or you might kiss a frog today,’ ” said Leslie.
The kids giggled.
“How about ‘Do not bend over when you are wearing a dress or people will see your underwear’?” suggested Audrey.
“Not too silly,” said Ms. Colman. But she was smiling. “Also, remember that we have to be able to write the fortunes on the snowflakes, and there is not a lot of room. So keep the fortunes short.”
“I know,” said Ian. “How about ‘Smile, and someone will smile back at you.’ How is that?”
“Perfect,” said Ms. Colman.
So the kids wrote fortune after fortune. And they snip, snip, snipped away at their snowflakes. Ms. Colman collected the new snowflakes in a box on her desk every day. The box was big. And it was getting full.
One day Ms. Colman said, “Class, we must shop for the prizes soon. We do not all need to go to the store. But five or six of you could come with me. We will go tomorrow after school. Sara’s mother has agreed to come along and help out. Anyone who is interested in shopping tomorrow, talk to your parents tonight to see if you may go.”
The next afternoon Ms. Colman, Ms. Ford, Sara, Ian, Nancy, Ricky, and Audrey went to the toy store in Stoneybrook. Ms. Colman brought along forty dollars. When they arrived, she said, “Remember — ten prizes, four dollars each. Okay, let’s see what we can find
.”
The kids found so many great prizes that they had trouble choosing ten. They found art supplies and games and outdoor toys. They found some small stuffed animals and some dolls and trucks. At last Ms. Colman said, “Okay, kids. Just five more minutes to choose.”
So they had to choose.
That weekend the parents built the booth. On Sunday the kids painted it. They were almost ready for the winter carnival.
THE WINTER CARNIVAL
The winter carnival was to be held on Saturday. On Friday afternoon the students at Stoneybrook Academy set up their booths in the gym. When the kids in Ms. Colman’s class peered into the gym, Sara gasped.
“It is so crowded!” she exclaimed.
And it was. Kids and teachers were everywhere. They were hammering and taping and cutting. They were taking things out of boxes. They were putting things on the walls. They were coloring in signs and setting out prizes.
“Our booth is back here,” said Ms. Colman. “Karen’s stepfather drove it here this morning.”
The kids looked proudly at their booth. They had painted it bright blue. Then they had painted huge snowflakes on the background.
Now they got busy tacking snowflakes to all the walls inside their booth. They tacked them up so that the fortunes did not show. Then they displayed the ten prizes on a table in the booth. And finally they hung up their sign. The sign on the front of the booth read:
BUY A SNOWFLAKE!
JUST 50 CENTS!
READ YOUR FORTUNE OR
WIN A PRIZE!
Ian grinned. He thought the snowflake booth was the best one at the carnival. He could not wait until the next day.
When Ian and his parents and Chip arrived at the carnival on Saturday morning, Ian could not believe his eyes. Overnight the teachers had changed the gym into a winter wonderland. Big snowflakes and snowballs hung from the ceiling. Along the walls were murals with snow scenes. And the mess from the day before was gone. In its place were all the booths, tidy and ready for the day. Two tables full of refreshments had been set up. At other booths things were for sale — crafts, and secondhand toys and clothes.
“Cool,” said Chip. Ian could tell he was impressed.
“I have to work at our booth first,” said Ian proudly. “For an hour. Then I get to walk around and play games and stuff.”
“We will meet you at your booth in an hour then,” said Mr. Johnson.
Ian joined Ms. Colman and Chris at the snowflake booth. The gym was starting to fill up. People wandered around. Kids decided which games they wanted to play.
The first person to buy a snowflake was Mrs. Titus, the principal. Her snowflake had a fortune. The fortune read, “All your dreams will come true.”
“How lovely,” said Mrs. Titus.
The first person to win a prize was a girl from Mr. Posner’s kindergarten class. She turned her snowflake over, and she sounded out the word prize. “Prize!” she shrieked. “I won a prize!” She chose a truck that could flip over if it bumped into a wall. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she said. “This is the best prize I ever won. I have never won a prize before.”
When the hour was over, Ian’s family met him and Chris. They walked around the carnival together. Ian played the ring toss and won a windup gorilla. (Chris won a mini Frisbee.) They each bought a baseball cap at the used-clothing table for just ten cents apiece.
Then Chip said, “Try the brownies. They are excellent.” So Ian and Chris each bought a brownie.
Finally it was time to go home. After the Johnsons dropped Chris off at his house, Chip pulled something out of his pocket. He handed it to Ian. “I bought this at a secondhand booth for you,” he said.
Ian looked at it. It was the next book about the X-ers. “For me?” he said. “Thanks!”
“Sure,” said Chip.
Ian and Chip grinned at each other.
Ian could not wait to get home so he could start his new book.
About the Author
ANN M. MARTIN is the acclaimed and bestselling author of a number of novels and series, including Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), A Dog’s Life, Here Today, P.S. Longer Letter Later (written with Paula Danziger), the Family Tree series, the Doll People series (written with Laura Godwin), the Main Street series, and the generation-defining series The Baby-sitters Club. She lives in New York.
Copyright © 1997 by Ann M. Martin
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All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication 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 the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First edition, 1997
e-ISBN 978-1-338-09257-8
The Snow War Page 3
