WHEN I AM 80, Poetry by Sharlene, age 9

I am a Little Girl

I am a little girl.

I love secrets.

But I am not good at keeping them.

I always tell my mom.

I love my plastic duck.

When you squeeze it its cheeks turn red 

and it talks and laughs.

But I don’t remember who gave it to me.

When I sleep, my duck rolls around in the bed with me.

I am dreaming my dad won the lotto.

When I wake up I get a new dog.

It always bites my plastic duck.

Until one day it disappears.

My mom says, “It might be under the counter.”

But it is not.

I am very sad.

I try my best to find it.

But I can’t.

When I am Eighty

When I am eighty years old I will look for my duck because

It might help me remember myself being young.

But of course I won’t play with it 

because I will not be a baby anymore.

Well, might have thrown it away!

So what’s the whole point of keeping it?

I’m already old.

But I’m going to get a new house.

When I go to my new house I will find my ducky!!!

I will be so excited.

My eyes will be wide open.

I will drop my cane 

and will hug my duck 

so tight.

When I am Thirty

When I am thirty I will go to Macy’s.

Smooth, blue sweaters will hang from metal racks

And fancy shoes will shine on their shelves.

Then the earth will move and I will move and the shoes will dance by themselves.

The earth will keep shaking but Beyonce will keep singing from the TV swaying from the ceiling.

The sales lady will tap on the cash register, acting like nothing’s wrong.

The perfumes from the counters will float up the escalator and swirl through my hair.

The cash registers will beep and crash to the ground.

I will leave the store but I won’t remember where I parked the car.

About the Author

Hi, my name is Sharlene. I am nine years old. I live in San Francisco with my dad, mom and my brother. I like to draw because my brother is a wonderful artist and I want to be as good as he is. I am good at math and my teacher says I’m ready to learn the lattice method and long division problems. I want to be good at cooking because I want to help my dad earn money. When I grow up I want to be a veterinarian because my mom said that it is a good job, and I love pets. If I were a machine I would be a meat slicer. If I had powers I would want to control things with my mind because I am sometimes tired and I don’t feel like standing up. At home I speak English and my mom talks to me in Vietnamese. This is my first published book.

THE ADVENTURES OF MAC By Emiliano, age 8

One day Mac woke up and smelled pancakes. “Mom,” he said. “What smells so good?”

“My pancakes,” she said.

“My bus is here,” Mac said. “Bye, Mom.”

“Bye,” said Mom.

At school Mac went on a field trip to the movies. On the way to the movies, Mac saw a witch going into a store. When the witch came out she looked sick. She was coughing a lot. She was so sick she went home. 

Mac really wanted to help her so he went to the wizard for a potion to help the witch feel better. Mac got the potion and went to the witch’s house. He looked and looked but he did not find her. She was not home. She was not shopping. She was not working. Mac did not know if she even had a job. She was not at the library. Mac thought he was not looking in the right places. Mac wondered where he would go if he was a witch.

Mac went to the woods. On the way he saw a little boy. Mac said, “What’s wrong?”

“I have no friends,” the boy said.

“I will be your friend,” Mac said. “What is your name?”

“My name is Jeff,” the boy said.

“Jeff is a nice name.”

“Thanks,” Jeff said.

The new friends found a little house. Mac said, “Maybe that’s the witch’s house.” They decided to investigate. But before they could get inside, they saw the wizard changing into the witch. Mac said to the wizard, “You don’t need to be a wizard or witch for us to take care of you.”

“Sorry,” the wizard said.

“It’s ok,” Mac said.

About the Author

Hi, my name is Emiliano. I live in San Francisco with my mom and sister. My dad lives in Sacramento and I visit him. My mom and dad are from Mexico. I have two cousins. If I could choose a super power I would choose to fly so I could get to school on time and also so I would not have to walk. The Adventures of Mac is my first published book. I had a lot of fun writing it!

CHRISTMAS STORM By Daniel, age 9

I was six. It was Christmas. I woke up before my uncle. He was still asleep next to me. He had a sleeping face and two purple-black eyes because he got in a fight the night before. My dad was already up. He said, “Wake up, everybody. It’s time to put up the lights.” 

My mom pulled out the chairs. I climbed into a chair beside the Christmas tree. I wrapped the tree with lights. I said, “Wow, they’re heavier than I thought.” 

My mom plugged them in then the lights glowed different colors. I said, “Awesome.” I opened my mouth and patted my hands on my cheeks. Wow. Surprise. Electricity. I looked out the window. The clouds turned grey and lightning struck. Thunder rumbled and cracked. The lights stopped blinking and fell down from the tree.

About the Author

Hi, my name is Daniel. I am nine years old. I live with my mom, dad, my two bothers and my two aunties in San Francisco. I like to “pwn cod” people in Modern Warfare 3. I am good at drawing. I want to be good at music. When I grow up I want to be a policeman because I want to fight crime. If I were weather I would be sunshine so I could torture people who hate the heat. I want to be famous for selling art. My favorite author is Jeff Kinney because he writes books that are fun to read.

ANONYMITY ATTACKS By Linda, age 10

Leaves tumbled down the hill. Fog floated through the air. A plastic bag flew over Song’s shoe as she wandered to school. She bumped into her old friend Kim. 

“Watch where you’re going!” Kim said.

“Kim?” said Song.

“Oh,” said Kim, “Long time no see.”

“Where are you going?” 

“I transferred to your school, Lexington,” said Kim. They walked the rest of the way together.

When they arrived, Song showed Kim around. They wandered all over the cafeteria, smelling the floor wax. Song led Kim to the principal’s office, the library and all the other places around the building. They passed by one of the hallway patrol. He’d tucked his shirt in but didn’t do a very good job. The ends were sticking out of his pants. 

“Who are you?” said the patroller. “Are you new here?”

Kim introduced herself.

“Well, don’t run or yell in the hallways.”

The principal strolled down the hall to the patroller and whispered into his ear. They both drifted to her office at the end of the hall. Kim asked Song if she would come to the bathroom with her.

  “Sure,” Song said, stepping down the stairs.

Kim pushed the bathroom door open. Paper towels stopped up the sinks. Humid air filled the room. Kim locked herself into a stall.

“Hurry up,” said Song. “We have to go to homeroom!”

Noises like wind mesmerized them.

“What was that?” Kim said, washing her hands.

“I have no idea,” Song said.

They froze like statues. 

“Do you think there’s a ghost in here?” Song said.

Kim nodded.

Song and Kim sat in their seats in homeroom. Their teacher, Mr. Fingbo told the students the history of Lexington School. 

“A girl somehow died in the bathroom,” he said. “Workers put a new floor over her body so now her spirit may be haunting the bathroom.” 

“Why didn’t they take her body out first?” Song said.

“I guess they were lazy,” Mr. Fingbo said. I heard that if you want to help her come back to life you have to find her grave. Her tombstone glows blue and it’s covered by rhinestones.”

“How did the girl die?” Kim said.

“Don’t ask me!” Mr. Fingbo said.

A wobbly-headed girl with braces said, ”Does it mean there is a ghost in the girl’s bathroom?” 

“Didn’t you pay attention?” Mr. Fingbo said. “Ok, class is dismissed now.”

Song and Kim ran to the bathroom after class and made sci-fi noises. That night, Kim went to Song’s house for a sleepover. Song asked her dad if he knew anything about ghosts. 

“I used to be a paranormal investigator,” her dad said. 

“Do you still have any equipment?” Song said.

“I have a ghost detector and suitcases of spirit-detecting equipment the attic.” 

“Can I use it?”

“Sure, I’m retired anyway.”

“Did anything happen to you when you were investigating the paranormal?” Song said.

“No, but they fired me because I was scared.”

The next morning Song and Kim walked onto the schoolyard, securing their paranormal goggles. A ghost drifted out of a classroom window. Song and Kim followed her into the ally behind the school. The ghost led them to an old mansion. The steps were covered with dry leaves and rotten tomatoes. The ghost swam through the air and disappeared through the mansion’s wall. Kim opened her suitcase. She grabbed some pills labeled AD: Absolutely Dangerous. These pills will make ghosts faint. 

Song placed her hand on the doorknob but Kim said, “Wait, don’t you see that this doorknob is covered in rotten crumbs?” 

“I didn’t know!” said Song. 

“Then look next time!” said Kim. 

Song snatched a curly-tipped stick from the ground. She pushed on the doorknob with it but the knob broke and fell down with a squeak. Waves of wind stroked the air. The doors flew open and rats scampered out. The girls leaped into the mansion and tiptoed to the bathroom. Song leaned against the wall and jumped away, disgusted. 

Kim helped song to turn on the bathroom sink. It oozed slime. An oval shaped image flew out of the tap. “Kim, I think it touched me.”  The girls ran to the living room where they spied some ghosts whispering. 

“What are they saying?” said Kim.

“Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh...ughhhhhh,” said the ghosts.

Song looked through her goggles and spotted a gooey figure lying on a couch in the living room.  They tried to get closer to it but another one grabbed Kim like a kidnapper. She shouted for help as loud as she could. Song ran wheezing. She tripped on the rumpled carpet and crawled to the kitchen doors. Cuts covered her leg. 

The ghost slammed Kim onto a counter and stuffed a napkin into her mouth. Kim inhaled, feeling sleepy. Song stood up and kicked open the door, opening her mouth, raising her eyebrows. Song hoisted Kim over her shoulder and carried her into the living room. Song sat her on a chair and said, “Kim, wake up!”

She didn’t wake up. Song took off Kim’s goggles and looked through them. She lay down on her back. She felt something wet at the back of her neck and turned around. It was the same ghost they saw on the couch earlier. Like the wind, it whooshed. Song touched the ghost and her hand went through its skin. The ghost’s face looked like a reflection on a river. Song fainted and fell to the ground.

When Song woke up the ghost was floating right on top of her head. 

“Hi,” Song said to the ghost.

“Aren’t you scared of me?” said the ghost.

Song said, “N-n-o, but, are you the ghost that haunts Lexington Middle School?  By the way, what’s your name?” 

“I don’t know! That’s the problem so just call me whatever you want!” 

“Anyway, are you the ghost who haunts my school?” 

“I won’t stop!” 

“Please?”

“No way! Someone got rid of my tombstones so I’m going to keep on haunting the girls’ bathroom until they put them back where they were!” 

“What if I brought your tombstones back here?”   

“Sure, that would make me glad. You know, this is the house I’ve lived in since I died. They lost my tombstone when they moved my grave so my spirit brought me here. I can’t live in an unmarked grave. I can’t deal with that kind of anonymity.”

“How did you die?” said Song.

“I died in the bathroom. Mean kids threw me in the trash. Nobody else in the school noticed I was gone. The garbage men took me away. I was too buried in paper towels for them to hear my screaming. They threw me into the back of the truck and I was smashed to death in the trash compactor.”

“Whoa. Why did they move your grave?” 

“I was buried in San Francisco but they moved my grave to Colma because of a stupid rule, and left the tombstone behind.” 

“Do you have any clue which cemetery it is?”

“I only remember the words Eternity and Hills,” the ghost said, and jiggled like jelly through the window, leaving a slimy puddle on the sill.

Song lifted Kim’s hair off her ear and said, “Wake up!” 

“What happened?” said Kim.

“I’ll tell you later. Right now we have to go.”

When Song and Kim got to school the next morning, everyone stared. 

The wobbly-headed girl with braces asked them, “Are you the ones who made it leave?”

“Made what leave?” said Song.

“The ghost. Did you make it leave?”

“I’m not sure,” said Kim.

“Show that ghost to us!” said the girl.

The ghost glided out of the classroom door to the principal’s office. The principal was not there. Her cell phone was on her desk. 

The ghost took the principal’s phone, hid under the desk and called Molly. She pressed the buttons slowly and softly. Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, and beep. The doorknob opened before she pressed the last number. The principal walked to her desk with a bagel in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. She sat on her chair and kicked her shoes off. The shoes dropped in front of the ghost’s face. 

“Where is my phone?” the principal screamed. “Where is my phone? Where is my phone! I better not have lost it. No!” 

The ghost hit the end button. She peaked her head up to see if the principal was looking at the door. The ghost floated up a little from the ground, floated out of the door to the girls’ bathroom and dialed Song’s phone number again. 

Song’s phone rang. 

“Whose phone is ringing?” said Mr. Fingbo.

“What, you know that you might be in trouble!” Kim whispered. 

“Can you do something?” said Song. 

“Fine,” said Kim.

“What are you two talking about?” said Mr. Fingbo.

“Umm, it’s not a phone,” said Kim “It’s just a Thank You card that comes with a song in it.” 

“Put it away,” said Mr. Fingbo. “It’s very disturbing.”

“Hello?” said Song, sneaking out of the classroom.

“Hello! It’s the ghost!”

“What?” said Song “I almost got in trouble by you!”

“Please find my tombstones quickly!” The ghost said.

“I’m in class! I’ll try to find it later!”

The ghost’s slippery heart beat rapidly. She felt closer to her own body.

The school bell rang. Song and Kim sat on a bench in the school’s yard. Song called the ghost.

“Hello,” said a voice. It wasn’t the ghost’s. “Who is this?”

“Hello, are you there?”

“Who is this?” Song said.

“You are calling the principal of Lexington Middle School.”

Song immediately ended the call.  “We need to find the ghost,” she said.

Song and Kim put on their goggles and walked towards the old house. The ghost stood next to a truck parked in the mansion’s driveway.

“Song, Kim!” she said.

Song and Kim ran towards the ghost.

“Let’s go find my tombstones!” she said.

The girls brought the ghost to Song’s house. Song sat on a couch in the living room. Her father sat by her, channel surfing. On top of the fireplace stood a framed picture of her grandma. On the bottom right, it said Eun Kyung Ah, 1996. On the back of the picture, it said, “Hills of Eternity Cemetery.”

“Are you looking at Grandma Kyung’s picture?” Song’s dad said. “You didn’t want to go to her funeral.”

“Can we go there someday? And can that someday be today?” shouted Song. She showed him the doorway and handed the car key to him. He groaned then slouched.

Headstones stood in rows surrounded by trees. Song’s dad stood close to his mother’s grave. The girls looked for the ghost’s gave. A blue light glowed through the dirt near Song’s grandmother’s grave.

“At last we finally found it,” Song said.

They rolled up their sleeves and dug. After a minute they hit something. Kim stuck her hand into the dirt and grabbed the tombstone. Words and dates were inscribed on the stone in rhinestones.  The ghost flew right past Song’s dad, took the tombstone then landed on her grave. She smiled, clutching the tombstone, closing her eyes. The rhinestones flashed. She wiggled her fingers: skin and bone and muscle. The wind blew her hair, and her face glowed. 

Kim fainted and fell to the ground. Song dropped to her knees beside Kim. Kim opened her eyes and gasped. 

“What happened?” said Song.

“I had the weirdest dream ever. It was about a ghost.”

“A dream?” Kim whispered. “Look, behind you.”

The ghost-girl, still smiling, walked into a grove of trees.

About the Author

Hi! My name is Linda. I am ten years old. I was born on December 19, 2001 in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. I live in San Francisco with my mom, dad, and my little brother. I love swimming and I am good at it. I want to be good at English Language Arts one day. My teacher thinks I am perceptive but I don’t know want that means. If I were a plant I would be a Californian poppy because it is bright. My favorite author is Pseudonymous Bosch because he writes about mysteries and secrets. One thing I wonder about a lot is how the universe was created. The happiest time of my life was when my brother was born. If I could pick one super power I would pick shape shifting because you can turn into anything. I speak English and Mongolian at home. I’m also the author of Can You Dance? This is my second published story.

FINAL DESTINY By Manuel & Andrew, both age 10

It coughed. Lungs and a heart oozed from its lips and gums. Its leg shook in the mud. It spread its arm across the ground and slurped blood from its gums. Its eyes swirled around and around. Kids yelled for help while zombies chomped  their moms and dads.

Jack and James spun their monster truck in circles. They slid across the track. James slammed on the brakes. Everyone in the stands was looking at three dead people. The dead people woke up and bit the police and they turned into zombies too. James took the wheel. Jack crawled onto the bed of the truck and shot at the zombies. A humongous one with a hanging eyeball stared at them. Jack shot him but nothing happened. 

James drove onto a highway full of monster trucks. Zombies limped across the cement. They ran them over in their truck.

“Pull over here,” James said. “A police station. Maybe they have weapons.”

Jack stopped the truck. A cop ran out of the building. James rolled down his window and the cop handed him six bombs. “Hurry, there’s one at the beach.”

The zombie moaned at the shore. Jack threw the bombs out the truck’s window. An explosion filled the sky with blood. Black clouds hovered in the air. Blood spattered the sand. Red waves wiggled through the ocean.

About the Authors

Hi my name is Manuel Morales. I am ten years old. I live in San Francisco with my mom, dad and three sisters. I like to do math because I feel happy when I understand it. I am good at sports. I want to be good at the science of automotive engineering. When I grow up I want to build cars. If I were weather I would be snow so kids could play with me. My favorite book is The Diary of a Wimpy Kid because it is funny. This is my third published book. I am also the author of The Race and When I Got Hurt.      

      

Hi my name is Andrew. I’m ten years old. I live in San Francisco with my mom, three sisters, my brother and my cat and dog, and on Fridays, my dad.  My favorite book is the The Diary of a Wimpy Kid because it has funny chapters. If I were weather I would be a tornado so I could blow away houses. I am famous in my class for agreeing with everyone. This is my sixth published book. I am also the author of The Ice Monster’s Anger, John and Snake, Lion Hunt, My Dog Poncho and Time to Die.

THINGS I LEFT BEHIND Poetry by Jessica C., age 7

Things I Left Behind

My hippo.

Its belly-button is soft.

Its nose is black plastic.

Its chest holds a green heart

And when I squeeze it, it squeaks.

Umbrella

Sky blue.

There are eggs and flowers

printed all over it.

I spin it in the rain.

The sprinkles drip on it

And land on the grass.

At home I get into

the bathtub

and  shake the umbrella

and the rain falls off.

Teddy Bear

I didn’t name it.

It’s brown and furry.

Its eyes are black.

When I look into its eyes

I see only black.

                                                          

About the Author

Hi, my name is Jessica C. I am seven years old. I live with my mom and dad in San Francisco. I am good at drawing. I want to be a botanist when I grow up. My favorite book is When We Were Very Young by A. A. Milne because it has lots of poems. If I were part of a plant I would be a petal because it’s soft. I was born in China but I moved to San Francisco when I was three. I speak Chinese at home with my family.

TUBLEBOAR'S BOOK OF SPELLS By Jimmy, age 8

Dark clouds flowed through the sky. Lightning struck a tree in the castle garden.

“My book is missing,” Tubleboard said.

“Your Book of Spells?” Agdor said. Vines snaked over his shoulder.

Fez and Hugh hid behind a nearby tree. “If we can find that book,” Fez said, “We can be heroes.” 

  “Okay,” Hugh whispered.

The boys left their hiding place and approached the men.

“Can we fight?” Hugh and Fez said.

“No,” said Tubleboar.

“Please.”   

Tubleboar’s eyes twitched. A red jacket hung from his shoulders. His blue boots kicked at rocks. Tubleboar removed a wand from his cloak and wiggled it. It flew into the air and dropped to the ground. Dust sprinkled over the dirt. The specks smashed together and blew in a whirlwind. A figure appeared in the middle of it. Flames whooshed from his spine. Sparks landed at his feet. Hugh and Fez jogged away from the monster. They swung their palms through the air and two bolts of lightning zigzagged through the sky. Then a centaur jumped in front of them. Red stars sparkled on the monster’s robe. He took out a wand and wove it through the air. A dragon flew over Fez’s head. A centaur rode on the dragon’s back. “Raft of doom!” he yelled.

An army of centaurs galloped toward the boys, swinging their swords back and forth. Hugh and Fez picked up two huge rocks to protect themselves from the attack. The centaurs’ blades spattered acid in the boys’ eyes and they fell to the ground. One of the centaurs zapped the air, and fog spread all around. He dashed like lighting to where the boys lay on the ground and choked them with his bare hands then threw them in the air. Fez and Hugh fell to the ground again and hid behind  rocks. The centaur waved his palm and put his hands together and a fireball appeared above his head and grew bigger and bigger, paralyzing Fez and Hugh. The centaur chained up the boys’ sprained legs. “You will be meeting Fumbletorch,” he said, and dragged the boys all the way to his kingdom. He locked them up in a cage in the dungeon. A man walked up to the bars wearing a red cloak. 

Hugh said, “I think that is Fumbletorch.”

“You will taste my rain of terror,” Fumbletorch said, and dragged the boys out of their cage. He pulled them into the hall. Hugh twisted his leg and spun around. The centaur let go of the chains. Hugh got up and kicked the centaur down. He hit the ground with a thump. The boys took his armor off and hurried into it. They dragged him to a chamber and locked him up.  

The boys found a piece of paper in Fumbletorch’s pocket. They opened it. It was the centaurs’ attack plans. Hugh and Fez pointed their wands at the wall. A portal opened up in the brick and they jumped into it.

At their fort they showed Tubleboar the centaurs’ plans. 

“You have shown your worth,” he said. “You can fight. Return to the centaurs’ kingdom,” Tubleboar said. “Use your portal. Report to Agdor.”

  The boys appeared behind a tree growing over the Centaur castle wall. Fez peeked around the tree’s trunk, spying on the centaurs protecting the wall. They ran around the kingdom with their wands. A black-robed wizard crawled over to Fez and said, “I am Agdor. A rocket is going to blast from behind those trees.” 

Moments later meteors dove through the sky. Centaur brains and guts scattered over the boys’ legs.

“Attack!” shouted the centaurs. 

Fez, Hugh, and the wizards ran toward the centaur castle and threw spears over its wall. They heard yelling coming from the other side. Fez and Hugh climbed the wall. They got to the top and jumped down. They ran through the castle door. No one was there. Fez and Hugh dashed through the castle. They tried the doors but the centaurs blocked the way. The guardians of Fumbletorch yelled, “Intruders!” Centaurs spun their wands, and twisters appeared mid-air and smashed the castle gates open. 

Centaurs shot fireballs at Fez and Hugh. Fez spun his wand. The fireballs reflected back at the centaurs. Hugh opened a portal. “Get in!” The boys jumped in. They emerged at a beach. A book floated into Fez’s hands. The boys opened it. It was Tubleboar’s Book of Spells. Fez flipped to a spell called For the Riddance of Centaurs. “That’s the page, now say the spell.”

Centauros, ire. 

Relinquere hoc terra post. 

Tu olim caelo exulat. 

Sanguinem fluent in inferno  

Centaurs fell to the ground. Blood splattered everywhere. The kingdom walls broke, the castle crashed to the ground. 

About the Author

Hi! My name is Jimmy. I am eight years old. I am turning nine this month. I live with my mom, dad and sister. I like to play basketball, volleyball and dodge ball with my friends. I am good at playing dodge ball. I would like to be good at social studies and science one day. If I were weather I would pick rain so I could soak people’s clothes. I would like to be famous for making a time machine so I could travel back in time. If could have any super power it would be flying so I wouldn’t have to take the bus. I want to go to the year 2024 so I could see how I will look when I am thirty years old. My family is from China and Vietnam. I have been to Vietnam but never China. I would like to go there to see the Great Wall. I speak Cantonese and English at home. This is my first published book.  

SAD PROMISE, Poetry by Jessica G., age 9

Aunts’  Story 

We gave Jessica a little 

encouraging pat 

before ice-skating. 

It didn’t hurt 

but we’re not going to tell you where we patted her. 

She wobbled onto the ice. 

The skaters in the center of the rink twirled like parasols 

but Jessica stood at the edge 

and held onto a nail. 

She fell down two times and she really wanted to take off her gloves.

When it was time to leave she let go of the nail and slid to the door. 

She came to us.

She sat down on the bench 

and ate chips 

and drank 7up.

Pets

Sasa is my Aunt’s dog. 

When she sleeps 

her fur is her blanket. 

Sarah is a fish I won on May Game Day. 

I threw a ping-pong ball into the cup where she swam.

Oops, Bon-Bon, Chan, Nancy Drew, Fireland, and Moon are fishes my dad bought from the store. 

They march around the tank like they are in a parade. 

Junior was my crayfish. He died and my dad threw him in the trash.

We bought two new ones. Girls. I could tell because of the light color under their tales. 

Then one day the big one ate the small one. 

This is what David told me.

Now the big crayfish is making friends with David’s pet turtle.

I can tell because the two creatures look at each other all night and day. I peeked. 

The weirdest part is that I don’t even know the names of these pets.

When the turtle shuts his eyes it looks like he’s smiling.

Now all of my pets are dead.

A sad promise.

Bacon Smell Soup

My grandma’s soup is the best! 

No one else knows how to make the soup. 

I call it Bacon Smell Soup. 

She learned to make it 

from God. 

One day when she was practicing her English 

she heard a man’s voice in her head. 

The voice told her the ingredients. 

She never 

ever 

writes down the recipe

and she still knows how to make it 

after 33 years.

Bike Crash   

Last month 

the 8X bus 

hit 

my Gong-gong. 

He was riding his bike through Chinatown. 

He fell down on his head. 

The bus diver was shocked. 

The ambulance siren wailed. 

The hospital has his bike. 

His bruise is gone now. 

My mom gave him a new bike for his birthday.

I think he deserves it.

When he rides, his tires whirl like pinwheels.

The Almost-Gift

My dad almost brought me a Monster High Doll. 

He brought it to the cashier 

but I said, “Don’t buy it!” 

even though 

I wanted it. 

From inside her box,

her eyes stared at me.

I felt like her mind was controlling me.

I didn’t want to waste my dad’s money on a toy. 

I wanted him to use his money for tools and food and shelter. 

My dad was not smiling. 

I knew he was sad because of his lips.  

They hung down like a banana.

In the middle of the store,

a remote control car spun around on a table.

The sign next to it said,

Play it or you’ll be sorry.

David grabbed the lever.

The car squealed

and crashed.

About the Author

Hi I am Jessica. I live with my mom, dad, brother, and sister. I love to knit! When I grow up I want to be famous for fashion design. My dresses will be knitted out of colorful yarn. You know that I am really good at yelling? I want to be good at drawing anime. My favorite book is Rurouni Kenshin by Nobuhiro Watsuki. I wonder if vampires are real. The saddest part of in my life is that I am going to get old and die. If I could chose a super power I would choose to stop time the year before I was born so David wouldn’t have me to bug. All of my family went to awesome places like China, Great America, and Reno. But not me. I really want to go to China. I speak English and Cantonese at home. I am also the author of In My Bakery and The Lost Voice.  

AN ACT OF VALOR By Destin & Ahn, both age 10

Dempsey awoke in a hospital. Lights dimmed the hallway. Nurses strapped bandages around his arm.  His buddies from the SMU unit sat on a bench outside his room’s window. The biggest one, Campo, shuffled into the room and asked, “Are you feeling any better?” 

“Huh? What?” Dempsey replied. He lay in a bed with machines that beeped all around him.

“What happened to you?”

“Long story.”

Dempsey and the other men from his unit parked their jeeps in front of a gate. Guards unlocked it. The soldiers opened the car doors and stepped out. Captain Dunn escorted them to a table behind the gate. He laid maps across it.

“Alright, Marines!” Dunn said. “If we’re going to make it through this place, it requires some teamwork here! Here are the layouts for safe houses in case anything happens. We need to get to the parking lot, and to do that, we need to get across the street.” 

Campo flung his RPG-7 over his buff shoulder. “Pfthhhh!” he said. “It’s just across the street!” 

“Then let’s GO!” Zankie said.

They took off into an alley. Above their heads clothes hung on lines attached to a balcony. Dempsey looked to the right, a dumpster blocked a doorway. “Breaching!” Dempsey said. Campos pushed the dumpster to the left, his sweat dripped onto the ground. Dempsey kicked the door. Its screws scattered all over the floor. A cloud of smoke hovered in the air. 

“Dude, it reeks in here!” Zankie said.

They continued up the stairs.

Dunn drew out his PITHON. His sweat dripped onto the wooden staircase. His feet shuffled up the steps. “Watch your corners,” he whispered.

Dempsey groaned and rubbed his arm, opening the door to the roof of the building. As he took his first step onto the pebbly cement, a bullet hit the ground in front of them.

“Sniper!” Dunn said. “Take cover.”

Dempsey and Campos rolled to the lip of the roof. “Hey Campos,” Demspey said. “Throw me your RPG-7.”

“But I want to use it,” said Campo. 

“Just give me it to me or I’ll fire you and you’ll go home with your face broken.”

Campo tossed the weapon to Dempsey.

“On my count of 3,” Dempsey said, “suppress that hotel with fire. Three... Two.... One.... SUPRESSING!!!” 

Everyone in the unit pulled his trigger. Bullets flew, wind carried away dust. Finally, Dempsey got a good aim, and fired. Boooom. The building crashed to the ground and dust hovered in the air. “Now that’s how we do this in my world!”

Zankie’s radio buzzed. “Enemies coming on your six,” Mason said. “Get out of there!” 

“Can’t go out the roof door,” Campo said. “Once we go through that door and try to get out the main entrance we’d be smoked.” 

Dempsey handed the RPG-7 to Campo. 

“Freaking boy scouts,” Dunn said.

“So much for multi-channels chat...” Campo said. 

“Sometimes don’t you just wonder how the heck you ended up in the marines?” Zankie said, shooting his grappling hook. It caught the edge of the building next door. Rubble crashed to the ground below it. One at a time, the men slid down the rope to the ground. 

Zankie’s radio buzzed again. “Saber team, evac is on the north of your position. Get there quick; Warhammer out.”

They crossed the street. A bullet hit the gravel. “Evacuate this area,” Zankie said. “You guys take the JEEPS. They’re in the safe house.”

A grenade rolled across the street onto the sidewalk. Black smoked through the air. Another bullet hit the gravel. Campo looked up. “Sniper three o’clock.” He rolled to the doorway of a Chinese Market. BANG.

Zankie hit the ground, still in the middle of the street. Tears filled his eyes. “Help me GOD.” Blood oozed from his stomach. 

“Stay with me,” said Dempsey, sprinting toward Zankie’s wet, crimson body. A sniper shot Dempsey’s wrist. He hit the sidewalk in front of the Chinese Market.

“Campo, go get them!” Dunn yelled from behind the market’s sidewalk stand. “I’ll keep a suppressive fire!” Peaches rolled out of their bin, onto Dunn’s shoulders.

Campo laid Dempsey on the waxed floor of the safe-house. “Get a medic over here!” Flies swarmed in the light above their heads. Nurses ran into the building. They kneeled beside Dempsey and clicked open briefcases. Tools filled the case. One of the nurses grabbed a needle and stabbed it into Dempsey, 

  “He’s losing too much blood,” one of the medics said. “Put pressure on that wound.

“For god sakes, hurry. He’s DYING!” Campo said.

For a second, nothing happened. No bullets. No screaming. Dempsey didn’t wake up, Dunn kicked the door open and rushed in. “Did he make it?!” he said.

“No,” Campo said.

“Well, we can’t stay here. This place isn’t going to hold up much longer.”

Campo gave Dunn a slight grin, then his right hook connected with Dunn’s jaw. Dunn hit the ground. He groaned, spitting out blood. One of the medics rushed over to Campo. “Sir, the building is starting to fall apart,” the medic said. “You’ve got to get out of here!” 

Campo left the building, leaving Dunn and Dempsey behind. Warhammer’s voice buzzed through the radio: “The LZ is pretty hot now! Better get here quick! Ground force is hot, so go on top!” 

“On my way...” Campo ran to the fire escape. His feet shuffled up the rungs. His sweat dripped on the metal railing. Campo made it to the roof and opened the door to the stairwell. A helicopter hovered above him.  A ladder unrolled and hit the ground. Campo jumped, his palms locking onto the rope.

“Were to go sir?” the pilot asked. “And where are the others?” 

“Base.” 

“What?” the captain said. “You just left him on the roof? This was supposed to be a team,” 

“I had to!” Campo said. “The place was falling apart! Besides, it’s too late now!” 

“Here, I got a beacon signal from that area. I want you and Warhammer to go back there and look for him!”

Campo took out his radio: “Meet me at the pelican in five.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Warhammer said.

At the safe-house, Warhammer and Campo cleared the rubble but didn’t see Dunn. A voice came from behind.

“Looking for someone?”

Campo turned around. “Dempsey! But... Where’s Dunn?” 

  “I thought you guys were shot down.”

“That’s when you’re wrong my friend.”

Back at the base Captain Keys met Dempsey at the helipad. “Good to see you Dempsey,” the Captain said. “Where’s Dunn?” 

“He didn’t make it.” 

“Well son, things happen in war.” 

Campo headed to the warehouse and checked out some blowtorches and tools. The warehouse door creaked and Dempsey’s head peeked in. “Guess what?” he whispered.

“Huh? Oh. You,” Campo said.

“When you were gone... Zankie said some last words. He said that you were a good friend to have, and for your heroic act, he wanted to give you this.”

Dempsey slid a pouch into Campo’s hand. Campo opened the pouch and inside was Zankie’s pistol with his name engraved on it, his service tag, and a small note. Campo opened it and read it out loud. “I’m gonna be gone for a while, so make sure you take enough vitamins. It’s a long way ahead for you, Sergeant.”

Campo grinned, slipping the note into his pants pocket. Then, he flipped down his welding mask and fired up his torch. Dempsey handed Campo lunch. Campo gestured toward a shelf. “I’ll eat after I finish this. I’m sorry I left you behind.”

“No worries man, like the captain said, things happen in war. I never thought I’d say this, but thanks pal, for being a great friend.” Demsey left, closing the door behind him silently. 

“No problem,” Campo said to himself.

About the Author

Helloooooooooo, I hope you enjoyed my book. Oh, and my name is Destin. I live in San Francisco with my two parents, my sister, and my two dogs. The two things I love doing most are: helping my father at work and playing video games. I’m good at Grand Theft Auto: Chinatown Wars. I could finish that game in less than an hour. When I grow up I want to be an automotive engineer because I like to fix things, and I like to be nurse because I would get to help people who are about to die. I am the only kid I know who eats chips to feel when I’m coughing. It works better than Tylenol even though the chips are bad for you. If I were weather, I would like to be the sun’s heat because when people are feeling really cold, I could help them feel warmer. My favorite book is Trouble in Madagascar because I’m the author and the story is full of tension and I think you would really enjoy that book. I am also the author of To Be or Not To Be,  Goodbye Lofu, and this story, which was actually started by Anh. He wrote the first draft and I wrote the revisions and did the illustrations. The funniest moment of my life was when I was Mrs. Rees’s class, celebrating my friend’s birthday. He smashed his cake into his face and took cream and smeared it all over his mouth. If I could go backward in time I would like to see what I looked like when I was being born. My family comes from Vietnam and I want to go there because I want to experience how hot it is there. Well, I hope you enjoyed my book and I look forward to meeting you.