Andi Unstoppable Read online

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  ZONDERKIDZ

  Andi Unstoppable

  Copyright © 2015 by Amanda Flower

  Requests for information should be addressed to:

  Zonderkidz, 3900 Sparks Dr. SE, Grand Rapids, Michigan 49546

  ePub Edition © August 2015: ISBN 978-0-310-73769-8

  All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from The Holy Bible. New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

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  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.

  Cover illustration: Chris Coady

  Cover design: Deborah Washburn

  Interior design: David Conn

  15 16 17 18 19 20 21 /DCI/ 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  For my birders

  Andrew Flower

  and

  Sarah Preston

  CONTENTS

  CASE FILE NO. 1

  CASE FILE NO. 2

  CASE FILE NO. 3

  CASE FILE NO. 4

  CASE FILE NO. 5

  CASE FILE NO. 6

  CASE FILE NO. 7

  CASE FILE NO. 8

  CASE FILE NO. 9

  CASE FILE NO. 10

  CASE FILE NO. 11

  CASE FILE NO. 12

  CASE FILE NO. 13

  CASE FILE NO. 14

  CASE FILE NO. 15

  CASE FILE NO. 16

  CASE FILE NO. 17

  CASE FILE NO. 18

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  CASE FILE NO. 1

  When a teacher claps his hands at the beginning of class, I consider it a warning for a big announcement. Until our Life Science teacher, Mr. McCone opened his mouth, I didn’t know if the announcement was going to be good or bad. The final bell that told us it was the beginning of the last period of the day rang, and Mr. McCone clapped his hands for a second time. “Simmer down! Simmer down! I have news.”

  Suddenly, the room was so quiet I could hear the boy in the seat behind me breathing. I scooted forward in my desk.

  The science teacher was a short, round man who had puffy dark hair that reminded me of feathers. He beamed happily. Actually, Mr. McCone was always beaming. In the three short weeks I’d been a student at Killdeer Middle School, I hadn’t seen a frown on his face or heard him raise his voice. That included the handful of times he’d asked a student to go out in the hall, which didn’t happen often because who would want to misbehave in Mr. McCone’s class?

  “I have super news,” the science teacher said. “Fall migration is here!”

  Silence fell on the classroom as we tried to figure out what this meant. Migration? Migration of what?

  “Does anyone know what that means?” the science teacher asked.

  My best friend Colin Carter’s hand shot up so fast his floppy brown bangs fluttered on his forehead. Of course, Colin would know. Colin knew everything. He was a good guy to have around during a trivia game.

  Mr. McCone called on him. “Colin?”

  Colin lowered his hand. “It’s the birds. Songbirds and waterfowl fly to their winter homes. Many travel hundreds or even thousands of miles to reach their final destinations.”

  “Exactly. This year the migration is even more exciting, and today I learned the most wonderful news.” Mr. McCone lowered his voice. “A Kirtland’s warbler was spotted in the Shalley Park woods.”

  A hush fell over the classroom. I don’t know about the other kids, but I was quiet because I was trying to decide what that exactly meant and why it was so exciting. Colin didn’t even raise his hand.

  Finally, Ava Gomez, sitting in the center seat, front row, spoke up without raising her hand. Ava never raised her hand. She thought she was above being called on. “What’s so special about a Kirtland’s warbler?”

  The seventh grade science teacher put a hand to his chest, like she’d struck him with a bullet and not a question. “It’s rare, very rare, indeed, especially in Ohio. There hasn’t been one spotted around in Carroll County in over twenty years. Many birders would give their life savings just for a glimpse of a Kirtland’s, which is why at this very moment dozens of birders are on their way to Killdeer. The news of the sighting has spread like wildfire across the birder community. Bird fever is here in little Killdeer, Ohio.”

  “They are coming here to Killdeer?” a boy in the back of the classroom asked. “No one comes to Killdeer. I mean other than the college students going to Michael Pike University, and they hardly ever leave campus.”

  “Yes, they are.” Mr. McCone rubbed his hands together a second time and his eyes sparkled with excitement. He was really working the mad scientist angle. “Now, I have had a brilliant idea. We’ll skip ahead in our current lesson plans and jump to ornithology for the next two weeks because I have the best assignment planned. You will love it!”

  Someone behind me, probably the same boy who questioned anyone coming to Killdeer, mumbled, “The guy’s a nut.”

  Ava flipped her long straight black hair, hair I envied as it was a daily struggle to get my curly, strawberry blonde — AKA pink — hair into a ponytail. “But Mr. McCone, we are still studying mollusks. What about the rest of the invertebrates? How can we skip invertebrates and go right to birds? The class will have no basis to study the bird’s anatomy. Of course, I will because I have done extensive study of all animal kingdoms on my own time.”

  “Suck up,” the boy behind me said.

  Mr. McCone laughed. “Oh, the snails will be there when we are ready to come back to them. They aren’t very fast.”

  The class groaned.

  “On the other hand,” Mr. McCone said, “fall migration only passes through our area for a couple of weeks. We can’t miss the opportunity to study birds, especially those as rare as the Kirtland’s warbler, in the field.” He clasped his hands together behind his back and started to pace. “Now for the assignment. You will be put into teams of two, and in your teams you’ll observe as many birds as you can for the next two weeks, starting tomorrow. The assignment will be worth eighty points. The team that sees the most birds will receive an additional ten points.” He paused. “And the team that brings me a photograph of the Kirtland’s warbler in the wild will earn an additional twenty points! Doesn’t that sound awesome?”

  Some adults
just couldn’t pull off the use of the word “awesome” convincingly. Mr. McCone was one of them.

  Craig, who was also in my gym class, raised his hand from the second row. “What about the ghost?”

  I laughed, but I realized that no one else in the classroom was joining me. “There’s a ghost?” I asked without raising my hand. If Ava could do it, so could I.

  Mr. McCone leaned on his desk. “It’s local folklore. Every small town needs its tall tale.”

  “It’s not just a story. I heard all about it,” a girl kitty-corner to me said. “It’s a lady ghost, and she wanders the park in the early morning and evening, looking for her lost loved ones. My dad told me he saw her while he was cutting through the park when he was a kid. She was as white as a sheet, and she was moaning.”

  A shiver ran down my spine. Ghosts weren’t real. I had no reason to be afraid of a story.

  Ava whipped around in her seat. “That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard, Courtney. Aren’t you too old to believe ghost stories?”

  “It’s true,” Courtney said. “My dad told me.”

  “Your dad lied,” Ava shot back.

  Courtney glared at her. “My dad doesn’t lie.”

  “Then he thought he saw something. Sometimes that happens when people aren’t thinking logically.”

  Courtney jumped out of her seat. “Are you saying he’s crazy?”

  Ava shrugged.

  Courtney, who was twice the size of Ava, looked as if she was ready to charge the smaller girl.

  Mr. McCone stood up and stepped between them. “Girls, girls, there’s no reason to argue.”

  Courtney slid back behind her desk.

  “Yes, I know there have been rumors about the ghost, but if she comes out in the early morning and at night, simply don’t go into the woods then if you’re afraid.” The teacher smiled as if he had solved the problem.

  Ava looked as if she wanted to say something more, but the science teacher said, “First things first, I need to break you into pairs. You will meet with your partner and together plan how you’ll reach your birding goal.” His eyes glowed and reminded me of my aunt Amelie’s cat. Mr. Rochester’s eyes gleamed at night when he stared out the window at some unseen mouse or mole.

  Another hand shot into the air. “But Mr. McCone, there are twenty-one kids in the class. What will happen to the extra person?”

  Mr. McCone nodded. “Yes, yes, that is a problem. Break up into pairs, and we will see who is leftover.”

  The sound of scraping filled the classroom as kids leapt out of their seats. No one wanted to be the one “leftover.” I knew I had nothing to worry about. Colin was the smartest kid in seventh grade and my best friend. He would be my partner. Colin was always my partner.

  I waited until my classmates were done jumping over each other before I quietly stood up and walked to Colin’s desk on the other side of the classroom. He wasn’t alone.

  Petite, raven-haired Ava Gomez glared down at Colin, who was sitting at his desk, with her hands on her hips. “What do you mean I don’t know?”

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “I . . .” Colin gave me a panicked look.

  “Colin is going to be my birding partner,” Ava said. She arched an eyebrow at me. I hated that she could do that — I’d spent hours trying in the mirror, but all I ended up doing was looking totally confused.

  Colin’s eyes widened, but he didn’t correct her. He was far too nice to tell anyone, even my arch-nemesis, he wouldn’t be her partner. That was left up to me.

  I folded my arms. “Colin is working with me.”

  “Really?” Ava smiled. “Did you ask him to be your partner? Because I didn’t see you ask him. How self-centered of you to assume you and Colin would be partners. If I were Colin I wouldn’t want to be taken for granted so much.”

  I pushed my frizzy hair behind my ear. “Well, it’s a good thing that you’re not Colin, and I don’t take him for granted.”

  “Oh really?” Ava asked. “Colin, do you think Andi takes your friendship for granted?”

  Colin’s hair fell into his glasses as his neck whipped back and forth between Ava and me. “I . . . I . . .”

  Mr. McCone clapped his hands, which made Ava and me jump. We hadn’t even known that he was there. “This solves our problem. Ava and Andi, you will both be Colin’s partner for the project. This will avoid the embarrassment of an odd man out. I was always the last one picked for kickball in school, and I know how hard it can be to be the low man on the totem pole.”

  It was no surprise to anyone that Mr. McCone was chosen last in kickball. He looked like he would be the last pick for everything with the exception of maybe a spelling bee.

  “What?!” the three of us cried at the same time.

  The teacher adjusted his glasses. “Would one of you rather work alone?”

  There was silence. None of us was going to volunteer to work by ourselves. More people meant we had more chances to see birds and maybe even see the Kirtland’s warbler that was worth an additional twenty points.

  “No,” Ava and I mumbled.

  “Good. I’m going to expect great things from this group made up of three of my star pupils.” He sauntered away to the next pair of students.

  Ava and I glared at each other for a full minute after Mr. McCone moved on.

  Colin sighed. “If we’re going to get an ‘A’ on this project, we’ll have to work together.”

  I sighed. Colin was right. I wasn’t going to let Ava Gomez stand between me and a good grade. “When should we start?”

  “Tonight,” Colin said. “We can meet at my house after school to make a plan. It’s Thursday, so we should spend Saturday at the park looking for birds. If the Kirtland’s is still there, we have to see it.”

  Life Science was the last class of the day, which meant we could get to work right away. I nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

  Ava frowned. “I can’t go right after school. I’ll meet you at your house later.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  Her jaw twitched. “There’s something I have to do first, and I don’t know if I can look for birds on Saturday yet either. It depends.”

  “Depends on what?” I asked.

  “Some of us have other responsibilities that are none of your business.” She glared at me. “I’ll meet you at Colin’s house later and let you know about Saturday then.”

  I folded my arms. “If you have to ask your mom for permission, we get that. It’s not like we’re going to run off into the woods without telling our families.”

  “I don’t have to ask my mom,” Ava said through gritted teeth.

  Colin opened his mouth as if he were about to ask another question, but snapped it shut as soon as he saw Ava’s glare.

  The bell rang, and Ava grabbed her backpack from the floor. “I have to go.” She fled the room. Colin and I were much slower in gathering our things.

  “I wonder what that was about,” Colin said.

  I hoisted my backpack onto my shoulders. “Let’s see if she shows up tonight like she promised.”

  CASE FILE NO. 2

  Mr. McCone was right. Bird fever had overtaken Killdeer. As Colin and I rode our bikes home after school, we saw dozens of men and women, mostly older adults, wandering downtown holding binoculars to their eyes. Local shopkeepers stood outside too, staring at the binocular-people like Martians had invaded and they were still trying to decide if they came in peace.

  I rode up next to Colin. He slowed his pedaling to match min
e. “Where are they all going to sleep?” I asked.

  Colin adjusted the rearview mirror attached to his bike helmet. “That’s a good question. I hope Bergita doesn’t offer our house. My parents would freak.”

  I let my bike cruise behind Colin again, and we coasted down Dunlap Avenue to our houses. Mine was a large Dutch colonial that had been in the family for five generations. My aunt Amelie inherited it from her parents and moved in when she got a job as an English professor at Michael Pike University just a few blocks away. Two years later, my older sister Bethany and I moved in after the death of both of our parents. Mom and Dad were botanists and had been in Central America looking for plants when their small plane crashed into the mountains on the border of Guatemala and Belize. That was almost nine months ago now. Sometimes it felt like it had been years since they died, and sometimes it felt like it was that morning.

  An old VW bus was in Colin’s driveway. It was rusty and powder blue and a huge dent marred the rear fender.

  “Whose car is that?” I asked Colin.

  Colin grinned. “You’ll see.” He sped away from me.

  I pedaled faster to catch up. “Can you tell me if it’s good news or bad news that that car — or whatever it is — is in your driveway?”

  Colin glanced over his shoulder as he swung his bike into the Carters’ driveway. “Depends on who you ask. My dad would say it was trouble.”

  Before I could ask Colin what he meant by that, his front screen door banged against the house. Colin’s pug Jackson shot out the door as if someone had zapped him with a hundred volts of electricity in his curled tail.

  A woman filled the doorway. Her hands were on her hips and her shoulders were as wide as the door. She wore tan shorts and a blue sweatshirt. The sweatshirt asked, “Got birds?” Her gray hair was shaved close to her head, and she wore a camo-pattern scarf tied into a knot around her thick neck.

  Jackson dove under the nearest bush.

  “Colin Thomas Carter,” the woman bellowed. “Get up here and give this old woman a hug.”

  A dog up the street howled at her shouts.