Piper Reed, Clubhouse Queen (Piper Reed, 2, Band 2) - Hardcover

Holt, Kimberly Willis

Hardcover

ISBN 10: 0805094318 ISBN 13: 9780805094312

Verlag: HENRY HOLT, 2011

Inhaltsangabe

Piper's dad—the Navy Chief—might be gone again, but Piper's got plenty to keep her busy at home: new neighbors, a spaceship beach house, a trip to New Orleans, and most important, the upcoming club pet show. Piper is determined to win, but teaching tricks to her dog seems nearly impossible. Bruna is simply unteachable! Or is she? Join Piper as she embarks on new and exciting adventures!

Piper is a spunky heroine with lots of spirit—she's both kindhearted and bossy as she tries to find her place in the world as the middle sister.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Kimberly Willis Holt is the author of the Piper Reed series, including Piper Reed, Navy Brat; Piper Reed, Clubhouse Queen; and Piper Reed, Rodeo Star. She has written many award-winning novels, including The Water Seeker and My Louisiana Sky, as well as the picture books Waiting for Gregory and Skinny Brown Dog. A former Navy brat herself, Holt was born in Pensacola, Florida, and lived all over the U.S. and the world—from Paris to Norfolk to Guam to New Orleans. Holt long dreamed of being a writer, but first worked as a radio news director, marketed a water park, and was an interior decorator, among other jobs. A few years after she started writing, her third book, When Zachary Beaver Came to Town, won a National Book Award for Young People's Literature. She resides in West Texas with her family.

Christine Davenier has illustrated numerous children's books, and won a New York Times Best Illustrated Award for The First Thing My Mama Told Me. She lives in Paris, France.

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Piper Reed, Clubhouse Queen

(Piper Reed No. 2)By Kimberly Willis Holt

Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)

Copyright © 2011 Kimberly Willis Holt
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9780805094312

November

My little sister, Sam, knelt on the sofa, staring out the window. Our next door neighbors moved off base last week and she was watching out for our new neighbors to arrive.

That’s the way the Navy life was. Someone was always coming and someone was always going. Before we moved to Pensacola, we’d lived in San Diego, Texas, Guam, Mississippi, and New Hampshire. Just when a place started to feel like home, we had to leave, again.

“The moving van is here!” Sam called out.

Tori and I rushed over to the window. My older sister was twelve and boy crazy. She probably wanted some goofy guy to move next door so that she could flutter her eyelashes at him. I was hoping for a fourth grader, another potential Gypsy Club member. I started the Gypsy Club when we lived in San Diego. I’d already recruited three members while in Pensacola.

“I hope there’s a five year old girl, just like me, moving in,” said Sam. She leaned to the far right, stretching her neck as if she expected a kindergartner to pop out from behind the van.

I pointed to Sam’s reflection in the window. “There she is.”

“Where?”

“Right there. See. She looks exactly like you.”

When Sam caught on, she stuck her chin out. “I’m not stupid.”

“I know. You’re a prodigy. A spelling bee prodigy.”

Tori gave me a shove with her elbow. “Move, Piper. You’re hogging all the space and I can’t see.”

“You just take up more room,” I told her. When I wanted to get back at Tori, I mentioned her chubby body.

Tori’s face turned purple. “You’re mean, Piper Reed!”

She was right. Since Chief left, I’d said something mean everyday. That meant I’d said seven mean things because seven days had passed since our dad left for ship duty on the USS Julian.

A big calendar hung on our kitchen wall with red x’s crossed through those days. Chief would be gone six long months. Each day we took turns marking a day off. Even Mom got a turn. In the Reed household we took turns for everything. And that means I’m always in the middle because I am the middle.

Mom handed the red marker to me. “Go ahead, Piper. It’s your turn.”

“Why do I always have to be last?” Sam asked as I marked an x over November 6th. I guess there were worse things than being in the middle. At least I wasn’t Sam who would always be the baby of the family, even when she was 95 years old.            “It can be fun to be last,” Tori told Sam. “Haven’t you heard, ‘save the best for last’?”

“That’s easy for you to say,” I said. “You’re always first.”

Sam fixed her hands on her hips. “Well, I’m going to be the first one to kiss Daddy when he gets off the ship.”

Mom sighed, but she wasn’t paying any attention to us. She stood at the kitchen table, looking over her paint box. Monday she’d start teaching art at our school. That’s when our art teacher, Mrs. Kimmel, went on maternity leave. School would be weird having Mom there. I hoped she wouldn’t ask me in front of the class if I remembered to brush my teeth.

“What about papier-mâché?” Mom asked, thumbing through newspaper scraps.

“We did papier-mâché piggybanks a couple of weeks ago,” I said. “Remember?”

Mom made a snapping noise with her tongue. “Oh, yeah. Drats!”

“Why can’t they do papier-mâché again?” Tori asked.

“I want my students to do something different.”

“You could let us have recess during art.” I suggested.

Tori scowled. “Why would she do that?”

I shrugged. “Well, that would be different.”

“We didn’t do papier-mâché,” said Sam.

“You didn’t?” Mom sounded excited.

“Mom,” I said, “Think about it. Twenty kindergartners with a bunch of mush and newspaper strips? They would make a big mess.”

“Oh,” she said. “Good point.”

Sam looked offended. “No we won’t.”

“Piper is right,” Mom said.

Sam frowned at me. “You spoil everything!”

“Sam, you’d be able to handle it,” said Mom, “but so many of your other classmates wouldn’t be able to create papier-mâché without making a huge mess.”

Sam straightened her back. “You’re probably right.”

Great, I thought. Sam, the prodigy. Sam, who could read better than me and now I couldn’t even count on her to make a big mess with papier-mâché.

Mom turned the pot of beans off on the stove. They’d been cooking all day and the smell of sausage and onions filled our kitchen.

Grabbing her sketchbook, Mom said, “We’ll eat dinner soon, but first I’m going to take a bath. Creative ideas always come to me in the tub.”

“Is that like a think tank?” Sam asked.

Mom smiled. “Yes, I guess you could say that.”

Maybe I’d take a long soak later because I needed a good idea, too. I wanted to accomplish something fantastic so that Chief would be extra-proud of me when he returned.

I walked over to the computer. “I’m going to check our email to see if Chief wrote us yet.”

Tori and Sam followed me. Our poodle, Bruna, got up off her pillow and came, too.

Everyday Chief emailed us. Sometimes a message was there waiting in the morning. Sometimes it was there after school. But no matter what a message was there everyday. We could count on it.

Dear Girls,

I’ve only been gone a week and already it feels like a year. But that’s because it’s the first week. The time will pass quickly, just wait and see. But don’t grow too much. I won’t recognize you.

By the way, I forgot to tell you a few things. Make sure you print the attachment and put it on the refrigerator.

That could only mean one thing. We opened the attachment.

“Great,” Tori muttered when a list appeared.

1.      Sweep the porch every afternoon.

2.      Rake the yard once a month.

3.      Wash the car at least every other    Saturday. Don’t forget the tire rims.

Chief didn’t need a think tank to make lists. He could make one any time—while he ate a Big Mac or watched TV, or stretched out on the couch. Mom called it his hobby, but I think it’s because you have to know how to make lists when you’re a chief in the U.S. Navy.

Continues...

Excerpted from Piper Reed, Clubhouse Queen by Kimberly Willis Holt Copyright © 2011 by Kimberly Willis Holt....

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: HENRY HOLT
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2011
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0805094318
• ISBN 13: 9780805094312
• Einband: Gebundene Ausgabe
• Zeichner: Davenier Christine
• Auflage: 1
• Anzahl der Seiten: 152
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar