The Curse of Einstein's Pencil Page 2

  I tried to imagine someone smarter than Einstein.

  How could I help Einstein?

  I dragged the Big Pest home. I had work to do. Luckily I had Einstein’s pencil.

  CHAPTER 8

  IT REALLY WORKS!

  Here I am dancing around the kitchen in my Top Ten Geography Star outfit! I know Einstein’s pencil will work! I’m going to be a STAR! We’re going to win!

  Just kidding! I’d never wear that much glitter to school! But here I really am at the kitchen table, writing the correct answer to Question #2 with Einstein’s pencil!

  And here I am, flying Einstein’s pencil 9,903 miles per hour so I can play with Yvonne and her pet kangaroo and still be home in time for dinner. I WISH!

  Here’s the Big Pest eating crackers with peanut butter and jelly. You can’t see him because he’s covered in peanut butter and crumbs.

  And here’s my mom.

  That’s not what I’m thinking. It’s what I’m WISHING.

  Here’s Sophie picking up the trash bag, pushing it out the doggy door, and scooting across the garage, around the van, lawn mower, and three bicycles over to the garbage can, where she puts the bag down, tips off the lid, picks up the bag again, jumps three feet up, and lets the bag drop neat as a pin into the garbage can.

  Then Sophie skedaddles back to me, her eyes full of LOVE for me, her master and best friend!

  I WISH!

  Instead, here I am, taking out the trash.

  And when I get back, here’s my grubby little brother with Einstein’s pencil in his peanut-buttery hand drawing in MY book! NO WAY!!!

  Here’s the monster pest, running away with my pencil!

  He was wrong. I caught him.

  I grabbed Einstein’s pencil by its perfect eraser end . . .

  and pulled back . . .

  the Big Pest jumped forward and . . .

  Einstein’s perfect pencil broke in two.

  I looked at the half of the pencil in my hand. The eraser half. Correct answers were gushing out of the broken pencil. Correct answers that I needed! NO!

  The Big Pest looked at me like I was a monster from another planet.

  Here’s why. I looked like a monster from another planet.

  The Big Pest dropped his half of the pencil and ran, faster than fear . . .

  out of the house and . . .

  up into the crabapple tree in the backyard.

  Sophie looked at me like I was a monster from another planet, too.

  Then she skedaddled out of the house after the Big Pest.

  I grabbed the other half of Einstein’s pencil and ran into the bathroom.

  When I looked in the mirror, I almost screamed again. They were right. I looked like a monster.

  But I couldn’t think about that. I had to put Einstein’s pencil back together before all the answers ran out.

  CHAPTER 9

  IT’S CURSED!

  I fixed it. Here’s Einstein’s pencil. Almost as good as new.

  And here I am, in my room where I should be studying for tomorrow’s Star Search. Instead I’m carefully erasing the scribble that the Big Pest made in my book.

  I know, I know. That’s not what I should be doing. I should be writing correct answers, not erasing scribbles. But nobody writes in my book except me.

  Then I remembered Einstein. I turned back to the page that she corrected and erased all 9,903 miles of her writing.

  When I was done the eraser on Einstein’s pencil wasn’t perfect anymore. But so what? I wouldn’t need an eraser now. I was only going to write correct answers.

  Here I am, finally! I’m ready to write all correct answers on a brand-new page.

  I already know #1 on Einstein’s list.

  It’s working! Look! I wrote a clear, correct answer! Almost.

  Instead of three straight lines, the letter N turned and wiggled . . .

  and then so did the I and the L . . .

  and the E.

  Instead of writing the correct answer with Einstein’s pencil I drew this picture of the river Nile.

  Here I am, Queen of the Nile, with my pet owl, and my almost best friend, Judith of Egypt, floating 4,180 miles north.

  We float past the great pyramids, past golden sands and the mysterious Sphinx.

  We see fish, fantastic flowers, strange birds, papyrus reeds, and a crocodile.

  A crocodile who looks like Bert.

  No! No way! I’m not drawing you, Bert! Not as a crocodile, not as anything!

  I just need to start again. No more funny pictures. Just correct answers. Turn the page, please! Yes, you! Turn the page!

  Thank you. I just need to start again on a new page where I will only write correct answers! No pictures! If I don’t draw any pictures then I won’t draw Bert! Here’s the question:

  What is the smallest continent?

  Can you guess? It starts with an

  No, it’s not Antarctica. It’s not Asia, either, or Africa. It’s not America, North or South, either. I’ll give you another clue.

  See how the A is jumping up and down?

  And now it’s turning into a kangaroo!

  Yes! The smallest continent is the only place where kangaroos live! Australia!

  Even though it’s small, Australia is the only place in the world where you’ll find wombats . . .

  and koala bears which aren’t really bears, and . . .

  duck-billed platypuses, which aren’t really ducks. Funny, aren’t they?

  I know I said I wasn’t going to draw any funny pictures, but these are really truly animals that only live in Australia.

  I know because my best friend, Yvonne, told me.

  Here are Yvonne and me playing with Yvonne’s pet kangaroo. I know kangaroos don’t really play jump rope, but wouldn’t it be fun if they did?

  Unless they looked like Bert! No! No! No! Get lost, Bert! Beat it! Scram! Get out of my picture!

  Here is Yvonne looking at me like I was a monster from another planet.

  And here’s why. I do look like a monster from another planet.

  I’m not a monster! I’m an artist! See? See my pencil?

  Come back, Yvonne! I’m not a monster!

  I have to stop drawing these pictures! Help me! Yes, you! Close the book, please!

  Wait! Don’t close the book!

  If you close the book, I’ll be caught in these pages like a monster forever!

  I wasn’t a monster before I took Einstein’s pencil. It’s the pencil! Einstein’s pencil has turned me into a monster! It’s cursed! I have to get rid of it and quick!

  CHAPTER 10

  KISS THIS CURSED PENCIL GOOD-BYE!

  Here is the Big Pest in the crabapple tree, throwing sticks for Sophie down below, who is running around in circles trying to find them.

  Here I am, tossing Einstein’s pencil as far as I can in the backyard. Which isn’t very far. Which is just in front of Sophie, who stops and sniffs.

  For the first time in her life Sophie finds a stick that someone throws for her.

  Only this time it’s not a stick, it’s a curse.

  Sophie trots to the crabapple tree to give her prize to the Big Pest.

  Here she is, her eyes full of LOVE for him, the little rat.

  The Big Pest looks at Sophie. Then, for the first time in his life, he gets down from the crabapple tree all by himself and runs into the house.

  Sophie trots over to me, drops the cursed Einstein’s pencil at my feet, and skedaddles after the Big Pest into the house.

  Here it is in the grass at my feet. It looks just like any old broken pencil except it’s not. It’s cursed.

  Here I am, throwing Einstein’s pencil as far as I can again.

  Which—for once in my lif
e—is far. Here it is sailing high over the fence into another galaxy. I WISH!

  Here it is really, sailing high over the fence into Bert’s yard. Which may as well be another galaxy because I’m never going to go there so I will never see Einstein’s pencil again.

  I’m free! I’m free of the curse of Einstein’s pencil! Now all I have to do is figure out how to win the Star Search tomorrow without it.

  CHAPTER 11

  THE WORST TOMORROW EVER

  Here I am, staring at the fake stars on my ceiling. Maybe if I stay awake all night, tomorrow won’t even come.

  Tomorrow was supposed to be the best day of my life, the day I became a Top Ten Geography Star with my new best friend, Judith Einstein.

  Instead it’s going to be even worse than the day Yvonne moved to Australia. It’s going to be the day I fall into a black hole because I don’t have the answers. What could be worse?

  Sophie knows I’m not a monster.

  CHAPTER 12

  THE EMILY DICKINSON TOP TEN GEOGRAPHY STAR SEARCH

  It’s already tomorrow and I’m as sick to my stomach as you can be without really being sick. There’s no picture because I’m not going to draw myself sick. In fact, I’m not going to draw ANYTHING ever again. Drawing turns me into a monster.

  You’ll have to imagine me riding the bus to school. In silence.

  Imagine me sitting with the Big Pest, who won’t talk to me even though I apologized 6,899 times for acting like a monster.

  Imagine me sitting with my teammate, Einstein, who looked at me once with her or else look and then disappeared into her book of 6,899 Top Ten Geography Facts.

  I should say almost silence. Because guess who is still talking?

  Now imagine us in Mrs. Grogan’s class.

  Imagine us lining up to go to the cafeteria where . . .

  I am sitting next to my teammate, Einstein, who still hasn’t said a word to me. Guess who was right behind me?

  Imagine Mrs. Grogan explaining everything to everybody.

  No, I wasn’t ready.

  Then Einstein handed me my pencil, the one I left for her when I stole hers. The magic one with no eraser left.

  Einstein showed me her pencil. It was a brand-new one with her name on it. I was right. She did have a million of those.

  No, I wasn’t ready. But Einstein was already writing the answer to Question #1: Where is the coldest place on Earth?

  Einstein can’t win without me? I used my magic pencil.

  I drew Bert in the coldest place on Earth.

  I drew Bert baking in Death Valley.

  I drew him climbing to the highest point on Earth on top of Mount Everest and . . .

  diving to the lowest point on Earth at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.

  I drew Bert swinging through the Amazon rain forest . . .

  skiing in the Alps . . .

  and flying 24,901 miles around the world.

  I even drew Bert jumping with Yvonne and her pet kangaroo in Australia and floating on the river Nile.

  I was almost done. I had drawn nine pictures and they were all correct, thanks to Einstein. AND they were funny thanks to Bert. There was one more question for Einstein to answer, one more picture for me to draw.

  Question #10: Where is your home?

  Einstein wrote a complete, correct answer.

  And then it was my turn.

  Draw Bert? At my house? No way! I don’t care if he said double please.

  I drew Bert. Turn the page, you’ll see.

  CHAPTER 13

  WE ARE STARS!

  Here we are in the crabapple tree in my backyard. Einstein and me.

  And Bert.

  Einstein didn’t mean that we were movie stars. She didn’t even mean we were Top Ten Geography Stars.

  She meant we were really, truly stars. The kind that really shine and are so far away we can’t even measure the distance in regular miles.

  We got down from the tree, and I drew Einstein a picture of the universe with this pencil.

  They gave us both ten of these pencils for winning the Star Search with a maximum score of 200 points + 60 points more for creativity. That was 60 points more than Einstein’s sister scored.

  And thanks to Bert, too, in a funny weird way. But don’t tell him I said that.

  Einstein and I also got globes that actually spin like the real Earth. Now I don’t need to fly 9,802 miles per hour to get to Australia where Einstein told me there really are wild crocodiles, but not where Yvonne lives.

  We are stars. Even Bert, but I’m only saying that to be accurate, because Einstein said it was true. To me, he’s still a monster.

  I apologized 6,899 more times to the Big Pest for acting like a monster. I think saying I’m sorry ten times should have been enough, especially since I meant it. But it wasn’t, so I made him a pencil with stars and his real name.

  Even then the Big Pest wouldn’t forgive me until I let him draw a picture in my book. Here it is. It’s either a frog or a monster, you decide.

  But that’s the only picture he’ll ever draw in my book. He can get his own book and keep his peanut-buttery fingers off of mine.

  I’m never drawing Bert again, no matter what. He still calls me Buzzy.

  Besides, Bert’s got a pencil. He can draw his own pictures.

  NO! Bert had Einstein’s pencil! Even though I knew it wasn’t really truly cursed, I couldn’t take any chances. What if it turned him into more of a monster than he already was?

  I grabbed Einstein’s pencil. Then I threw it as far as I could into another galaxy.

  Sophie jumped high, high into the air . . .

  and caught it.

  Here we all are, soaring across the universe. Even Bert. Wait, watch out, Bert! Don’t fall into that artist’s conception of a black hole! Oops.

  Just kidding! Here we are really, soaring across the universe in the picture I painted on the fence between Bert’s yard and mine.

  Einstein and the Big Pest and Sophie helped. Everybody helped, even Bert. He was an inspiration.

  This last page is just me, Bea Garcia. It’s okay to close the book now. I won’t be caught in here like a monster forever. Because I am a star, really truly.

  Just like you.

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