Authors: Robin Brande
86
T
he group of judges finally reached me
.
"Miss Locke?"
"Yes, ma'am." I cleared my throat and nervously began my presentation.
"My research project shows the potential evolutionary shift in modern human anatomy and biology as the result of dramatic changes in the quality of our food supply. As part of my research I conducted a thorough analysis of the various factors impacting the health of both modern humans and our ancestors, beginning with
Homo erectus
. I focused on the impact of environmental, nutritional, behavioral, and technological aspects of the differing lifestyles, and in addition used myself as a test subject to determine the effects of returning to some of the habits of our early ancestors. For 207 days ..."
Amanda and I had shopped for today's outfit: slim black pants, my black boots, a lavender V-necked sweater. And a bomb-proof, yet feminine bra--Joyce's finest work yet.
Makeup, of course, and hair straightened, then curled. With electric curlers. Hurray for modern times.
I gave just a short speech, highlighting some of the features of my project. Then the judges asked me questions: What did I feel I learned; do I think the current state of human health is an actual evolutionary shift or merely a temporary condition; what kinds of food did I conclude we should be eating; what was the hardest part of the project for me?
"I'd have to say giving up technology," I answered to the last one. "On the one hand, my life was a lot quieter and more peaceful without all that constant noise and distraction. And I had a lot more free time, since I couldn't watch TV or zone out on the computer. But there are definitely times when you want to be able to use a cell phone or drive your car someplace."
"Do you think this project has changed you?" the woman judge asked. "Beyond the obvious physical changes?"
I smiled. "You have no idea how much."
And then it was over. The judges thanked me and moved on to the next display. I leaned back against my table and tried to breathe normally again.
When I saw Jackie last week, I tried out my presentation on her. And when I was done, she asked me the same thing I had asked her before: whether I thought Einstein's theory about how to save the human race was true.
"I don't know," I said. "It might be."
I'm not sure if I can speak for the whole human race yet, but I know I can speak for me. And what's true for me is that eating like Einstein and da Vinci and Newton and Dr. Brian Greene feels like the right thing to do. I like walking the road they walked. And my body likes it, too.
Although I told Jackie when this project is over, I wouldn't mind being a junk food vegetarian for a while. Maybe just a couple of days every now and then.
Even Amanda said she's happy eating just vegetarian food.
"Kit Cat, if you told me from now on you're only making things out of Bermuda grass, I'd eat it because I know you'd make it delicious."
"Really?"
"Yeah. So only use your powers for good."
After a few minutes I wandered over to where I could see what was happening with Matt. The judges still hadn't reached him yet. I caught his eye and gave him a smile.
I still can't get over everything he told me yesterday--about not caring about the competition anymore. I thought I knew him.
What really struck me is how futile this whole thing would have been if I were still trying to win just to beat him. Where's the glory in that if your opponent doesn't even care? So much has changed in the last month, it's almost hard to remember how desperately I wanted to grind Matt into the dirt at the beginning of the school year. It's like he and I were both different people back then.
Okay, maybe it was just me.
I went over to the kids' area to look at Peter's project again. Amanda gave him a little bit of her magic, too, and his board turned out great. He did all the cutting and pasting, but it was Amanda's idea to use different fonts and colors and scalloped borders. Not the kind of thing an eleven-year-old boy thinks of.
I looked for Trina's project, too. And I really tried to hold myself back--for Peter's sake. If he likes her, despite all her obvious flaws, I guess I should try to be fair. And who knows? Maybe someday she'll confess what a huge crush she had on him when they were in fifth grade. Could happen, I suppose.
So there was her board, all girly and decorated:
What Makes Flowers Grow?
She and two other girls tested a bunch of different additives to water to see which kept cut flowers looking fresher longer--not a bad experiment, I guess, although technically the flowers weren't going to "grow" anymore, since they were already cut. But I decided to overlook that.
They tried aspirin, ibuprofen, 7UP, Gatorade, and Red Bull. And still nothing was as good as plain water. Kind of like the experiment I did on my own body, in a way.
I left the kid area and went back to the high school zone. The Astronomy judges were finally at Matt's table. I wished I could have gone over and eavesdropped. At least Matt looked like he was enjoying himself.
"What did they ask you?" I said afterward as we headed out to his car.
"It was weird," he said. "All they wanted to talk about was you."
"Shut up." I bumped him with my hip. He wrapped his arm around my waist to hold me there.
"I hope you win, Cat."
"I hope so, too."
87
I
didn't win
.
Margo, who put together a whole program for teaching autistic children to better understand the facial cues of people they were talking to, won first place.
And some guy who did his project on how people talk when they're on their cell phones, versus how they talk to each other in person, won second.
And I got nothing.
I went up to Margo after the ceremony and gave her a big hug. Because at least it was one of us.
"Let's go somewhere," Amanda said. She and I had both taken the night off of work. "Let's go somewhere where everything is completely mechanized--somewhere you're not even allowed to scratch your own nose. Reintroduce Cat to the world of technology."
"Sharpy's," Jordan suggested, and we went there instead.
Over the sound of people cheering the basketball game on TV, the four of us did our best to analyze the competition.
None of us could really deny that Margo deserved first place. But Amanda just couldn't accept the guy who won second place. "Were the judges on crack? Did somebody pay them off?"
We ate our veggie fajitas and let her rant away.
"That project was completely pedestrian! Totally lame! What did he do--sit around the mall all day listening in on people's conversations? Big deal! You gave up
cookies!
And caffeine! And bubble baths! And movies!"
"You gave up bubble baths?" Matt murmured. I squeezed his hand under the table.
"And what's with Petey only getting second?" Amanda continued. "That project was
golden!
He was robbed!" And all I could think was,
This is nice
.
Nice to be a foursome, for once, instead of me always being the third wheel.
Nice to be holding my boyfriend's hand under the table while we listened to Amanda carry on. Nice that I had tortilla chips for the first time in seven months, along with Sharpy's extra-hot gut-incinerating jalapeno salsa, which I may regret in the morning. Nice that Matt and Jordan like each other, so it's comfortable for all of us to hang around. And nice that even though I didn't win this year, the sky didn't fall and I wasn't sitting there all depressed.
Nothing to be depressed about.
We split up in the parking lot, Amanda still fuming over the injustice of it all, and when Matt and I finally shut ourselves into his car, we both took a minute to breathe.
"Are you upset?" Matt asked.
"No," I answered truthfully, "are you?" His project, like mine, hadn't even placed.
"Nope." He started the car and turned up the heater.
I jumped at the sound of Amanda knocking on my window. I rolled it down.
"I forgot to tell you," she said. "You looked absolutely gorgeous tonight. Not everyone gets to be both smart
and
beautiful, you know. I mean, Margo's pretty and all, but YOU--" She looked to Matt for confirmation.
"Smart and beautiful," he agreed. "I'm a lucky guy."
"Okay, then. Don't forget it." Amanda pinched my cheek, then ran back to Jordan's car.
"Subtle," Matt said. I tried not to laugh.
Instead I leaned back against the headrest, closed my eyes, and let out a small groan. "I am so tired. Can we please just go back to your house for a while?"
"Watch some TV?" Matt asked.
I smiled and opened one eye. "No TV."
Which turns out to be our signal that Matt McKinney should kiss me again.
Acknowledgments
As if any of us can write our books alone.
I wouldn't have been able to write more than fifty words of this one without the valuable contributions of a variety of scientists, writers, teachers, editors, and other brilliant people. Turns out this story had a lot of moving parts, and I could only pound on a few of them to make them work all by myself.
So let me thank the following people for all their assistance, advice, and efforts on behalf of this book:
My glorious editor, Michelle Frey, for always pushing me to go deeper, higher, further, stronger, truer. Thank you for all your wonderful ideas for this book, and for giving me the freedom to fix what needed fixing in my own way and time. With every line, every scene, every story we work on together, you are making me a better writer. I couldn't be more grateful.
Associate editor Michele Burke, for your valuable insights into food, romance, and other vital elements of this book. Thank you for not letting me off the hook until you thought I got it right.
The rest of the Knopf/Random House team, including but not limited to fellow foodie and all-around VP of Fun Nancy Hinkel; publicists extraordinaire Noreen Marchisi and Meg O'Brien; the ever-classy Tracy Lerner; sharp-eyed, sharp-brained copy editors Karen Taschek and Alison Kolani and proofreader Diana Varvara; and the designer of this gorgeous cover, Stephanie Moss.
Carolyn Sweeney, who, besides my editor, was the single biggest influence on the creation, continuation, and completion of this book. Thank you a million times over for your encouragement and advice all the way through. You have no idea how instrumental you were in getting this story done.
Science teacher Margaret Wilch and her class of geniuses, specifically Joe Fisher, Lindsay Liebson, Margo Johnson, Kiona Brown, Alyssa Ashley, Alexandra Lombard, and Farah Chatila. Thank you all for letting me pick your brains!
My food and nutrition gurus, Jacalyn Elder, RD; Amy J. Lanou, PhD; and Amy Armstrong Wilke, JD. Needless to say (but I'll say it), any mistakes herein are mine, not theirs.
Authors Barbara Kingsolver, Michael Pollan, Dr. John A. McDougall, T. Colin Campbell and Thomas M. Campbell II, Annemarie Colbin, Brendan Brazier, and Colleen Patrick-Goudreau for making me
really
think about food. And for ultimately changing my ways as I worked through the writing of this book.
Emily Baade for patiently trying to teach me calculus. Thanks for the attempt, but I'm such an English major. (So are you, but we're not all so multitalented.)
Michele Meadows for keeping the writing equipment in top working order.
American Sign Language teacher Sarah Tomassetti and her students, especially Sara and Nancy, for helping me learn some of that beautiful language.
My author pal Barry Lyga for once again playing the role of first editor. Your wise advice always helps me sand off the rough edges.
My agent, Laura Rennert, for all her superb advice and hard work. Thank you always!
My niece, Amanda, and nephew, Matthew, for creating the at-home cafe that I totally stole for this book.
And last but never least, my husband, John, for support of every kind. Thank you for everything you are and everything you do. xxoo
For Further Reading
Campbell, T. Colin, and Thomas M. Campbell II.
The China Study
. Dallas: BenBella Books, 2006.
Colbin, Annemarie.
Food and Healing
. 10th anniversary ed. New York: Ballantine Books, 1986.
Kingsolver, Barbara.
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life
. With Steven L. Hopp and Camille Kingsolver. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2007.
McDougall, John A.
The McDougall Program: 12 Days to Dynamic Health
. With recipes by Mary McDougall. New York: NAL Books, 1990.
Pollan, Michael.
In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto
. New York: Penguin Press, 2008.
www.compassionatecooks.com
www.goveg.com
THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright (c) 2009 by Robin Brande, LLC
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children's Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
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