Authors: Annie Bryant
“Pass the knife,” Katani's mother said. Patrice smiled and handed it to Katani.
Grandma Ruby didn't mention the demonstration they'd held that afternoon at school, or the proposal. Katani's grandmother had a way of separating work and family, and Katani was relieved. She was particularly glad that her grandmother hadn't mentioned the whole thing to Kelley. If Kelley had known about the march, she would never have stopped talking about it.
They ate dinner as usual. Still, her grandmother didn't say a word. It was starting to get to Katani a little. She realized she needed to talk about what had happened.
After dinner, when all the dishes were cleaned up, and she couldn't stand waiting another minute, Katani spoke up. “May I talk to you?” she asked her grandmother.
“Certainly,” Mrs. Fields said, making no move to leave the group. “Go ahead.”
“In private?” Katani said weakly. She was starting to understand how her grandmother must have felt when she put her on the spot this afternoon.
They walked silently to the den. When Grandma Ruby
closed the door, Katani spoke. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I put you on the spot.”
“I assumed that was the idea,” she said.
“No. That wasn't the idea. I was trying to show support. You knowâ¦the whole solidarity thing. I thought you'd be more likely to agree with our plan if you knew the whole seventh grade was behind the idea.”
Katani's grandmother thought about it. “I would have preferred that you ask me alone first. Or even if you'd had the students sign some kind of petition. Not that I don't think this is a good idea. But what if I have to say no?”
“Do you?” Katani asked.
“I'm not certain at this point,” her grandmother said.
“I'm sorry,” Katani said again. A petition would have been the way to go. She honestly hadn't thought of it.
“No,” Grandma Ruby said firmly. “I'm not saying you should be sorry. While I might have preferred a different method of communication, it took a lot of effort to organize those students. It was impressive leadership, Katani. How did you manage it so quickly?”
“We used the Internet, but if it put you on the spot⦔ Katani said.
“It's all right,” her grandmother said. “Sometimes you have to do what you believe in, even if it puts someone on the spot.” She smiled at Katani.
“If we do this,” she said, “and that's still a big IFâbut if we are able to change the location of the show to the Movie House, this is going to be a big job. Perhaps Ms. Ciara can help you organize things. Are you sure you kids are ready for such a responsibility?”
Katani thought about it before she answered. “I think so. We all want to try⦔
“All right, then,” Grandma Ruby said. “First things first. Why don't you get your friend Maeve to set up a meeting with Mr. Taylor tomorrow afternoon. Tell him I will be bringing along the school attorney and our insurance advisors, as well as the parent sponsors.”
“I'll get right on it,” Katani said and headed for the phone. She took a deep breath and crossed her fingers. “Please let this work out,” she said out loud. Then she dialed Mr. Taylor's number.
T
he meeting was scheduled for three o'clock. Maeve had made Chocolate Gag. She'd told Katani that she'd read somewhere that chocolate made people think better, and that it improved their mood. Charlotte had filled a big pitcher of water and added some lemon slices.
Katani was all dressed up in a skirt and a blazer. She really wanted to look smart for the meeting. She didn't want the grown-ups to think moving the talent show to the Movie House was just a silly kid idea.
“I didn't even know you had a business suit,” Avery said.
It was an original Kgirl design. She had taken one of her mother's blazers, cut the sleeves to three-quarters, and paired it with her plaid skirt. She looked at least five years older and very confident.
Before the meeting started, Mrs. Fields, the business people, and the parent sponsors walked around the theater. With the exception of Katani and Maeve, the other girls were not allowed to join the tour but hung back behind the screen, trying to listen to the conversation by using an
old megaphone they had found backstage.
“What are they saying?” Avery wanted to know.
“I can't tell, there's too much of an echo,” Charlotte said.
When the group finished the tour, they went into Mr. Taylor's office, which the girls had transformed into a makeshift conference room. They had carried down the kitchen table from upstairs, but because the kitchen chairs looked too homey to use, they had replaced them with some sturdy-looking ones from the prop room.
Mr. Taylor's office looked like a real conference room complete with little pads of paper and pencils on the table in front of every seat, something Katani had seen in a movie. It really was funny, when she thought about it, how much the girls really had learned from the movies. They hadn't learned everything, the way Maeve had joked that day with Isabel, but what they had learned was significant. Knowing that just strengthened their resolve. They just had to save the Movie House! The plan had to work.
The adults and Maeve and Katani were in the conference room for a long time. The door was thick, so no matter how hard the other BSGs pressed their ears against the door, they couldn't hear a thing. Avery even tried lying on the floor and listening through the crack, but to no avail. Charlotte finally put the megaphone down. “Let's wait upstairs,” Charlotte said. “I can't stand the suspense. I have to find something else to do with myself.”
The girls went upstairs to Maeve's room to play with Siegfried and Roy. The guinea pigs were running round and round on their wheel when they got there. Isabel opened the cage, and the guineas scampered out. Avery lay down on the floor and let them run over her.
Downstairs in the conference room, the adults had been
discussing the project for almost an hour.
“So, what do you think?” Mrs. Fields finally asked.
One of the parent sponsors spoke up. “I think it's do-able. The place has clearly functioned as a live theater before.”
“In some ways, it's better than the junior high stage,” one of the other parents said.
“It certainly is better than the junior high stage right now,” Mrs. Fields smiled.
“I say let's do it,” the first parent said.
“Hold on a minute,” the insurance agent said. For the last several minutes, he'd been poring over the theater's insurance policies.
“What's wrong?” Mr. Taylor asked.
“You're covered for general liability,” the insurance man said. “You're even covered if someone falls out of his chair. But you're not covered for live performances,” he said. “We can do this, but only if we have a binder.”
Katani had no idea that things were so complicated. She knew that there were concerns, that was the word her grandmother had used. She just thought that those concerns had more to do with parental permission than insurance. And what the heck was an insurance binder anyway?
As if reading her mind, Mrs. Fields spoke up. “What would it cost for a one-night liability policy? The kind they get for parties? Or concerts? I know such things exist.”
The insurance man calculated. “Five hundred at least. Maybe a thousand.”
“Dollars?” Katani was shocked.
Mrs. Fields looked at the others. “How much are the tickets?”
“We were going to charge six dollars,” Katani said.
“And what is the seating capacity of the theater?” Mrs. Fields asked.
“Seven hundred twenty-three,” Mr. Taylor said.
“How much are the taxes you owe on the theater?” Mrs. Fields asked.
Mr. Taylor looked awkward. “What?”
“I'm sorry we're being nosy, but if this benefit is supposed to pay the taxes, I think we need to work backward from that number,” Mrs. Fields said.
Everyone agreed.
“The taxes on the theater are almost five thousand dollars,” Mr. Taylor said.
Katani realized that the numbers didn't work.
“Do you think we could get ten dollars per ticket?” Mrs. Fields asked Katani.
Katani thought about it. “I think so.”
“I know so,” said Maeve. “Everybody wants this to work.”
Her father looked over at her with a proud smile and winked.
“Do you think we could sell out the theater?” one of the parents asked.
“I think we really could, especially if we really work at it.” Katani thought about it. There were ninety kids in the seventh grade. They would each need to sell eight tickets to fill 720 seats, with three seats left open. Maybe they could give some kind of prizes to the kids who sold the most. This was going to be a challenge. Not that many kids had big families, and most of their friends would already be coming to the show.
“You'll have to make a commitment,” Mrs. Fields said.
Katani thought about it. Avery had told stories about her mother's fund-raising efforts. Mrs. Madden spent a lot of time doing things for charities. Katani made a note to call Mrs. Madden and talk to her about it. Maybe if they treated the whole event like a super fund-raiser, they'd be able to raise enough money. It seemed like a good idea.
“Do you think you kids can handle this?” one of the parents asked Katani, as if everything depended on her answer.
“Yes,” Katani said. She didn't know how they were going to handle it, but they were. As she answered the question, Katani realized that saving the theater had become very important to her. Not just for Maeve and her family, but for the whole town. People's grandparents had come to this theater. It was important to save memories. It was like saving history.
“Yes, we can,” she said again. “I know we can!” Already
she was having a million ideas. “You know, we could send an announcement out to famous people who came from Brookline, like Conan O'Brien and Theo Epstein, the general manager of the Red Sox.”
“Okay,” Mrs. Fields said, smiling.
“Let's do it,” Mr. Taylor said.
Everyone shook Katani and Maeve's hands and wished them good luck as they walked out the door.
Katani and Maeve hugged each other. They had done it. But this was only Step One. Now, Katani hoped her grandmother was right, and that the seventh grade could come through and help pull this off together.
The Kgirl Empire: Lessons Learned From My First Business Meeting
K
T
hey met at Isabel's that night to make the posters. Isabel's mother met them at the door. She was a beautiful woman with dark, flowing hair and a lovely smile. She was merely an older version of Isabel. It was amazing how much they looked like each other.
She welcomed them warmly. “Isabel is upstairs,” Mrs. Martinez gestured to a long flight of stairs with tiny white lights lining the stairway, the kind you see on Christmas trees or outside in the regular trees in the southwest. Soft music drifted down the stairway.
“Who is that singing?” Charlotte asked.
“That's Isabel,” Mrs. Martinez smiled. “And Elena Maria.”
“It sounds pretty,” Katani said shyly.
“I didn't know Isabel could sing,” Avery said, not shyly.
The girls paused on the stairs to listen to the two soft voices singing to a strummed guitar. They waited until the song was over before they entered the room.
“That was so nice,” Katani said as they came inside.
Elena Maria beamed. She had been practicing for so, so long. Isabel quickly put down the guitar.
“You play, too,” Avery remarked.
“Not really. I mean, just a little,” Isabel said.
“Will you teach me that song?” Maeve asked. “I love it.”
“Sure,” Isabel said shyly.
“It was really nice, Isabel,” Charlotte said. “You too, Elena Maria,” she added. None of the BSG really knew Isabel's sister. Charlotte, who didn't have any brothers and sisters of her own, felt a little shy. Elena Maria, who looked really cool, with her long hair, tight jeans, and multicolored peasant top, was super friendly and gestured for them all to come into the room.
Elena Maria asked, “Are you all hungry? I made some cookies.”
“We're always hungry for cookies,” Avery declared.
“You should have come earlier,” Isabel said. “Elena Maria made the most amazing dinner. She wants to be a chef.”
“I'll test all your recipes,” Avery volunteered.
Elena Maria laughed and went downstairs to get a plate of her famous cookies.
“Is your Aunt Lourdes here?” Maeve asked.
“She's doing a late shift at the hospital,” Isabel said. “She'll be at the talent show. And Elena Maria wants to do a Mexican-style brunch for everyone the morning after the show.”
“That's so nice!” Maeve said.
“Should we make something to bring to the party?” asked Charlotte.
“You can bring your families. I want you all to meet my father, and he wants to meet you. I've told him all about the Beacon Street Girls,” Isabel said with a grin.
“He's still coming,” Charlotte said, relieved. “It was good you didn't tell him the show was cancelled.”
Isabel smiled.
“So, we'd better get started if we're going to get all the posters done,” Katani said.
The word
poster
was Isabel's cue. She walked to her desk and picked up the rolled-up poster of Marty that she and Charlotte had made together. Isabel handed it to Charlotte, who handed it to Avery.
“What's this?” Avery asked.
“It's a present from Isabel and me,” Charlotte explained. “We made it for you back when we thought there wasn't going to be a show, and you were so upset.”
Avery slowly unrolled the poster of Marty. Katani and Maeve crowded around her. They had left before Isabel and Charlotte had finished the poster.
“Remember when you said you thought Marty's self-esteem was suffering because the show got cancelled?” Charlotte smiled.
A grin spread slowly over Avery's face as she read the poster. “You did this for me?”
“And for Marty,” Charlotte said.
“Who, no doubt, can read the words himself,” Katani said, and all the girls laughed. If any dog could read, Marty could.
“It's awesome,” Maeve said.
“It already inspired us,” Charlotte said, pointing to rule #10. “That's how we figured out we had to move the show to the Movie House.”
“You guys!” Avery smiled. “Thanks so much. I have to frame this and put it on my wall.”
“You're welcome,” Charlotte said.
“Piece of cake,” said Isabel.
“We better get started; it's getting kind of late.” Katani didn't like to push, but they were running out of time.
Isabel sat at her drawing table, and the rest of them stationed themselves around her room. Charlotte was at the desk. Katani and Maeve sat on the floor, and Avery spread her supplies out on Isabel's bed. Avery was relegated to painting the base color black because it required no talent at all.
If they needed artistic inspiration, there was no better place to work than Isabel's room with its bold paint and poster-covered walls. Charlotte stared at one of Frida Kahlo's posters.
Isabel loved Frida's paintings, even though some of them were strange. Especially her self-portrait, which Isabel had posted on the ceiling over her bed. A lot of people thought Frida wasn't very pretty, with eyebrows that went straight across her head. But Isabel didn't care. She thought Frida looked interesting, and to Isabel, that seemed more important. Plus, she was Mexican, and it filled Isabel with pride that such a great artist came from Mexico.
As Charlotte looked around the room, she noticed that Isabel had put an arrow sign that read “Queen of Puppets” and pointed it toward her poster of
The Lion King
. Julie Taymor's puppets had mesmerized Isabel when she had seen the show with her family in Boston. She had, in fact, thought that it would be really fun to make a Beacon Street Girls puppet show with rock music and flashing lights. But that would have to come much laterâ¦after she finished with Kiki and the Hip-Hop Honeysâ¦which might take her the rest of her life if Kiki didn't stop escalating her demands.
“Isn't Julie Taymor from Boston?” Charlotte asked Isabel.
“Are you serious?” Isabel asked. Boston was getting better all the time. The thought of running into Julie Taymor on the streets of Boston was totally exciting.
“I think she lives in New York now, though,” Maeve said, “or maybe L.A.”
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They worked on the posters for almost two hours. Isabel drew a funny logo that featured a cartoon of the Movie House. Everyone agreed that it was really cute. Avery thought it was good enough for Mr. Taylor to use all the time. But Isabel disagreed.
“No way! This is okay for a kid poster, but it isn't good enough for a real poster. But, maybe your dad could take it and have some grown-up artist fix it. I wouldn't mind at all,” Isabel said.
The girls loved the funny little drawing of the Movie House and begged Isabel to put it on all the posters that day.
“Do you think people will pay ten dollars for a ticket?” Avery asked. “That's pretty expensive.”
“We have to make sure they do,” Katani said. “Otherwise, the whole thing will be a total bust.” She said it with such certainty that no one dared question her.
“How many tickets do we each have to sell, again?” Isabel asked
“Eight,” Katani said. “But it would be much better if each of us sold twelve.”
Charlotte wasn't sure she knew twelve people to sell the tickets to. There was her dad. And her grandparents, who didn't even live in Brookline, but they would probably buy the tickets anyway. Or maybe some of the other professors at the college where Dad taught might buy tickets. She could ask him to pass the word. Maybe Charlotte could even talk Yuri into buying a ticket. She knew he liked to go to the movies. And definitely Ms. Razzberry Pink, she had said that
she liked magic. Also, lately, Charlotte had been thinking that she wanted to get a ticket for Miss Pierce, even though the odds were high that she wouldn't go. Sapphire Pierce hardly ever left the house. She was what they called a recluse. The boundaries of her life were literalâfour walls and a roof.
Well, Miss Pierce probably wouldn't come, and Charlotte didn't want to ask her to buy a ten-dollar ticket. Still, Charlotte knew that Miss Pierce was interested in their magic act. She had really helped with the planning of the Houdini trick. If Charlotte wanted Miss Pierce to come to the show, or to even consider the invitation, maybe Charlotte should buy the ticket herself. And Avery was right; ten dollars was a lot of money for a kids' talent show. But, maybe when people realized that their money was going to save what her father called a “cultural institution,” perhaps they wouldn't mind so much. Gosh, Charlotte thought, this was getting nerve-wracking. No wonder grown-ups were so tired all the time, if these were the kinds of things that they had to worry about.
Isabel's I.M. was pinging, and then her cell phone. It was like Grand Central Station in New York City.
“Who's calling you so late?” Katani looked surprised.
“Who d'ya think?” Isabel answered, looking at the messages. They were all from the Hip-Hop Honeys, most from Kiki herself. “Well, it was peaceful while it lasted,” Isabel said. There were at least seven full e-mails, all with more to-do lists for Isabel.
“Geesh,” said Avery. “She's stalking you.”
Avery read the e-mails with her. Kiki was not at all happy with the computer animation, and she had no trouble telling Isabel so. Kiki was getting out of hand.
Avery couldn't contain herself any longer. She had to speak up. It might have been the Marty poster; it might have
been the harassment by the ugly stepsisters, but Avery couldn't keep quiet for another minute. “They're taking advantage of you,” she said.
“It's true,” Maeve said. “We've all been meaning to say something about it.”
“But then we decided not to⦔ Charlotte said, “because the show got cancelled and it didn't matter anymore.”
Isabel looked shocked by all of their concern.
“We're just looking out for you, that's all,” Katani said.
“Be careful,” Charlotte said.
“She's totally out of bounds on all of this, Isabel. It's like she doesn't even care how much work you are doing,” Katani said.
“I can handle this,” Isabel said, sounding a little annoyed with her friends.
There it was againâ¦
out of bounds
, Charlotte said to herself. She was going to have to look up the word
boundary
. People seemed to get so upset about stuff that was out of bounds.
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Charlotte's Diary
Dear Diary:
My dad says that if you want to be a writer you have to love words. You have to collect them like some people collect butterflies. So, diary, I'm doing my word collector nerd thing. It's a good thing I have some time to myself, because I wouldn't want to inflict the vocab thing on anyone else. I mean, suppose you were a bug collector (yuck!). You wouldn't expect your friends to go hunting black widow spiders with you in the jungles of Mexico where they have mosquitoes the size of hummingbirds, would you? No,
tonight it's just me, Marty, and the dictionary.
Word up! “Boundaries.” I've heard that word at least three times today.
Random Charlotte thought: Sometimes I wish there were no boundaries, and we could just time travel to wherever we wanted to go. Like right now, I'd go to Paris and see my friend Sophie. The two of us could go to Madame Bette's Café and have café au lait and fresh, warm croissants with butter and jam. Yumâ¦I can smell the French coffee now. Maybe we could even go on a hunt to find Oranginaâ¦I miss that little orange fuzzball. Sorry, Marty.
Back to WORD OF THE DAY: I'm sitting in the Tower looking at the night sky. When you look up at the stars, there don't seem to be any boundaries at all. Sophie and I are sitting in different continents, but we're looking up at the same moon. I love that. There was a song, I think⦓Somewhere Out There.” Cool song.
If this were school, we would have to use boundaries in a sentence.
Here goesâ¦
Orâ¦
What about me?