Aleca Zamm Is a Wonder Read online

  Across the room at her desk cluster, Maria clapped. “Aleca! You did it!”

  “Good job,” cheered Joanie Buchanan.

  “Way to go!” said Neal Martinez.

  “High five,” offered Scott Sharp, but I purposely missed his hand, what with all the nose picking I’d seen him doing lately.

  “Thanks,” I said to them all.

  “Ooh, you got a red one!” noticed Joanie. “I got purple. Want to trade?”

  Of course I did not want to trade a red for a purple, because it’s not like I was born yesterday. “No, thanks,” I said.

  “Nobody trades red for purple, Joanie,” said Neal. “You know that.”

  “Yeah, but I thought I’d ask just in case,” said Joanie. “Somebody might like purple best.”

  Then I thought about how Joanie actually deserved her Jolly Rancher and how I’d cheated to get mine. “You can have my red,” I told her. When she held out her purple one to trade, I said, “You can keep it. I don’t really want one.”

  Joanie was excited. “Thanks!” she chirped.

  At least somebody was happy, because I sure wasn’t.

  21

  Something in the Lunchroom Is More Mysterious Than the Food

  The rest of the day I felt rotten.

  I had finally gotten a thing, and not just any old thing but a magical, supercool, amazingly awesome thing, and what had I done with it? I’d used it to become a big ol’ cheater. On Monday I’d probably get the Civil War quiz back and feel rotten about that, too. I couldn’t feel proud about good grades I didn’t deserve.

  Maria’s excitement about my math test grade made me feel even worse. “I’m so happy for you, Aleca!” she said at lunch. “¡Qué bueno! The highest grade in the whole class! You deserve it!”

  I said thanks, but I couldn’t really concentrate on the rest of what Maria said after that. All I could think about was how to undo what I’d done. But there was no way. I could stop time, not reverse it.

  Since I couldn’t go back and change what I’d done, I started thinking that maybe there was some other way to fix things. I remembered Mrs. Floberg showing us last week about how a negative number was the opposite of a positive number. If you added negative three to positive three, the result was zero. The one number canceled out its opposite. So I figured, maybe if I did a positive thing, it would work the same way and cancel out my negative thing. Then I’d be even. And it would be like the bad thing I’d done didn’t count.

  I tried to think of something good I could do by stopping time. If there was a bank robbery, I could stop time and disarm the bad guy and tie him up. Problem was, I didn’t know when any bank robberies were going to happen.

  Since stopping a bank robbery was probably out of the question, I thought maybe I could save somebody’s life. Like, if I saw someone falling off a cliff, I could stop time and scoot them back so they wouldn’t fall off. But there weren’t any cliffs nearby, and we’re not allowed to leave the lunchroom without a pass from a teacher, so that wouldn’t work either.

  While I was looking around the lunchroom trying to think of some kind of positive to balance out my negative, I noticed that one of the lunchroom ladies was carrying a steaming tray of hot dogs to the self-serve line. Just as she was about to go around to the front, her foot got caught behind a boy’s foot, and she lurched forward. The hot tray, with a pan of almost-boiling water inside it, was about to fly straight out of her hands.

  “Aleca Zamm!” I said. Everything went still.

  This was perfect!

  I got up from my seat and went to the lunchroom lady. I moved her foot away from the boy’s foot and positioned it so that she’d be steady again. Then I moved her arms so that the tray was secure in her hands. I even pushed back into the tray the water that had already started to splash out. (The water that was in motion just before time stopped felt kind of squishy, like Jell-O. I could mold it any way I wanted until time started again.)

  Now no one would get hurt. I’d done good deeds to erase the bad deeds. Keeping people from getting burned and also keeping hot dogs from being wasted were two good things, so I figured that would cancel out cheating on both of those tests. Okay, so maybe it didn’t quite make up for cheating. Probably the only way to really make up for that would’ve been to confess to Mrs. Floberg. But I figured there was no reason to go overboard. I wouldn’t cheat again, so the way I saw it, all I had left to do was not add anything bad to my list to mess up my good deeds–bad deeds math again.

  There were temptations, but I resisted them. For example, I did not put chocolate pudding on the tip of Mrs. Floberg’s nose. I did not even take a single french fry off anyone’s plate, even though they smelled delish. And I did not even do anything gross to Madison’s food. Of course, I can’t take a whole lot of credit for that last one because Madison was not even there. She had checked out to go to the dentist. But maybe I would have left her alone anyway.

  I was just looking around the room, taking in how still everyone was all at once, in what was usually the rowdiest place in the whole school, when I saw it.

  It happened so fast, I almost thought I’d imagined it. But I hadn’t. I’d seen it.

  Movement.

  Outside the school. Through the lunchroom windows, I’d seen a person’s head darting away so I wouldn’t see them. But I’d seen them, all right. I couldn’t even say for sure what color their hair was, how tall they were, or even if it was a boy or a girl. All I knew was that someone was out there, unaffected by my stopping time. Just like Aunt Zephyr had been. Hadn’t Aunt Zephyr specifically told me that other Wonders wouldn’t be affected when I stopped time? So if somebody was moving around, that could mean only one thing.

  I ran outside to see who it was, but there was no one there. I looked all over the school grounds.

  Had Aunt Zephyr come to the school to keep an eye on me? No. It couldn’t have been Aunt Zephyr. The person’s hair definitely hadn’t been the color of orange sherbet.

  I thought of what Aunt Zephyr had said about other Wonders—some good, some not good. I thought about those people who weren’t Wonders themselves but who were maybe looking for us . . . for reasons we didn’t know.

  I went back inside the lunchroom and sat down in my seat.

  “Aleca Zamm!” I said.

  Time started again, and I was glad—not only because the lunchroom lady didn’t hurt herself or anyone else, but because the sooner time started, the sooner I could get home. And the sooner I could get home, the sooner I could tell Aunt Zephyr what had happened and figure out what it meant and what to do about it.

  Yikes. She was going to be mad. She’d warned me not to stop time again.

  The more I thought about it though, the less I worried.

  How mad could Aunt Zephyr really be? After all, she was a Wonder, and nobody had made her stop doing her Wonder thing. She’d traveled all over the world, hadn’t she? And she’d said that once she’d figured out how to use her ability, it had been “exhilarating.” Yes, that was her exact word—“exhilarating.” I remembered it because when she’d used it, I’d thought, I hope I never get that word in a spelling bee.

  It seemed unfair that Aunt Zephyr got to be exhilarated by her Wonder thing and I didn’t get to be exhilarated by mine.

  I decided that when I got home from school, Aunt Zephyr and I were going to have a serious talk.

  I was going to figure out how to be a Wonder without getting caught. Aunt Zephyr could teach me. And when she did, there would be no stopping me.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you, Abigail Samoun, for being such a fantastic agent and friend. This book happened because I felt comfortable enough to approach you about trying something completely different. Thanks for always hanging in and being so encouraging.

  Thank you, Amy Cloud, for your amazing instincts as an editor. And for letting me be funny, or at least try to be.

  Thank you to my family for your support. This is all so much more fun because I
can share it with you. I appreciate all the feedback and great ideas from my children and my nieces and nephews. Dwight, thank you for always making sure I have time to write. I love you so.

  Turn the page for a sneak peek at Aleca’s next time-stopping adventure: Aleca Zamm Is Ahead of Her Time

  What’s Worse Than Getting in Trouble? Waiting to Get in Trouble!

  “Where’s Aunt Zephyr?” I asked my mom as soon as I hopped into the car after school.

  “And hello to you, too,” said my mom.

  “Sorry,” I said. “Hi, Mom. Where’s Aunt Zephyr? Is she waiting for us at home?”

  “I’m afraid not,” my mother replied.

  “Well, where is she?” I asked. “Will she be back soon?”

  “I don’t know,” answered my mom. “I haven’t seen her all day.”

  This was not good news. Because ever since lunch that day, all I’d been able to think about was talking to my weird, Wonder-ful aunt Zephyr. I hadn’t been able to focus on anything else—not my schoolwork; not my best friend, Maria; not even my awesome birthday skating party happening the next day.

  The reason I was thinking about Aunt Zephyr was because she was the only other person I knew who was a Wonder, like me. At least, that was what Aunt Zephyr called us—Wonders. The word referred to people who were able to do amazing, unusual things. Aunt Zephyr could think herself anywhere in the world she wanted to go. I could stop time—which, by the way, was something I was not supposed to do. Ever again.

  But I had. That very day, in the school lunchroom.

  I mean, I’d had a good reason and everything. At least I’d thought so.

  Trouble was, I had kind of gotten caught.

  Maybe.

  Possibly?

  Probably.

  And so I needed to run this information by Aunt Zephyr immediately.

  “I wish I knew when she was coming back,” I said.

  “Unfortunately, your aunt left without a word to anyone. I find that to be an egregious lack of good manners.” I didn’t know what that word meant, but Mom had dragged it out and emphasized it—“ee-GREEEE-gee-us”—so I figured it must mean something really bad if she took that long to say it. Then Mom added, “But what do I know? I’m just a Dud, after all.”

  My mom is usually very good-natured. In fact, her first name is Harmony, which is perfect because she has a talent for getting along with almost everybody all the time. But she seemed pretty annoyed about Aunt Zephyr’s leaving without telling her. Plus, she hadn’t been too thrilled when Aunt Zephyr had called her a Dud, which I guess might sound kind of harsh if you happen to be a Dud, but Aunt Zephyr doesn’t mean it to be hurtful. That is just what she calls regular people who aren’t Wonders like us. My sister and both of my parents are Duds, and so is everyone else I know except for Aunt Zephyr.

  Oh, and apparently at least one other person.

  I knew this because Duds are stopped along with everything else when I stop time, so they don’t even know it’s happening. I thought everyone at my school was a Dud, since everybody stops when I stop time. Well, I thought everybody stopped. But earlier today when I stopped time in the lunchroom, I saw someone’s head move outside the window. It caught my eye, seeing as how it was the only motion there was. When time stops, trees stop blowing in the wind because the wind stops blowing. Stuff that was thrown up into the air stays there instead of falling back down. Birds and bugs stop flying and just float. A splash of water stands up stiff and stays there. Everything looks just like in a photograph. Nothing moves. Nothing makes a sound.

  Except for other Wonders.

  So when I saw the movement outside the lunchroom window, I ran to see who it was. But I didn’t find anyone. All I could tell from the brief glimpse I’d had was that the person’s hair hadn’t been orange-sherbet-colored, so I knew it wasn’t Aunt Zephyr.

  Either another Wonder lived in our town, or someone had come looking for me. Aunt Zephyr had warned me that some Duds might be aware of us. That was one reason why I wasn’t supposed to stop time, because there could be dangerous Duds lurking. Who knew?

  So the person outside the lunchroom could’ve been a Dud who had figured out a way to become immune to Wonder-ing, or it could have been another Wonder who was not Aunt Zephyr. I had no idea how many other Wonders existed in the world, but it seemed unlikely that there would be another one in our little town of Prophet’s Porch, Texas. I had to find out who it was and what they wanted.

  But since Aunt Zephyr could think herself places in the blink of an eye, right then she could have been anywhere in the world.

  I had to find Aunt Zephyr, fast, and ask her what to do about the person I’d seen outside the lunchroom window.

  But how?

  Sticky Situations and Sneeze Stifling

  When I got home, I looked all over the house. “Aunt Zephyr?” I called. I thought maybe she might be back from wherever she’d gone, but she didn’t answer.

  It was lucky for me that Dylan wasn’t home from choir practice yet. She might have asked questions about why I was so worried about finding Aunt Zephyr. I didn’t think Dylan was particularly fond of our aunt.

  “Aleca, is something wrong?” my mom asked. “Did something else . . . happen?”

  My mom and dad knew all about my being a Wonder. My mom had been pretty freaked out when she’d heard, because until then she hadn’t known that Wonders even existed, and she’d certainly never met one. My dad hadn’t been too surprised because he’d known that his dad and his uncle Zander and his aunt Zephyr were Wonders. Dad was a Dud because probably Wonder-ness skipped a generation or something. But at least he’d known what Wonders were. I guess that was why he hadn’t had to take a headache pill and go lie down when he’d heard the news, the way Mom had.

  “Aleca,” Mom said now. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  I mumbled, “I kinda stopped time again today.”

  “You what?”

  “I kinda stopped time again.”

  “Kinda?” my mom said. “Aleca, how does one ‘kind of’ stop time?”

  She had a point.

  “Okay, I stopped time,” I admitted. “No ‘kinda.’ ”

  “Darling!” my mom said. She looked worried. “You know you’re not supposed to do that anymore! It’s dangerous!”

  I felt bad, because my mom is awesome. Ever since I started kindergarten, she has put funny notes in my lunch box every day. She cuts my sandwiches into four triangles, just the way I like it. She doesn’t get mad when I get a bad grade on a math test, as long as I try my hardest. She was letting me have my birthday party at the skating rink, with a cake from the fancy bakery downtown, and was even getting several of those shiny balloons that are four or five bucks a pop. (Not that you would pop them, but that is what people say—“a pop.” Even about balloons.)

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” I said. “I was trying to help someone.” I explained to her about how a lunchroom worker was about to drop a tray filled with steaming water. “I kept her from getting hurt. And I kept perfectly good hot dogs from going to waste. Two good things!”

  Mom hugged me. “I understand, sweetie,” she said. “But we don’t know what bad things might happen if you continue using your . . . power.”

  “I know,” I replied. I didn’t have the heart to tell her about the moving head I had seen outside the lunchroom window.

  Just then the door opened. Mom and I both jumped to see who it was. But it was only Dylan.

  “Choir practice got canceled.” Dylan sighed. “Kelly’s mom dropped me off. What’s wrong with you two?”

  “Wrong?” my mom asked. “Why would anything be wrong?”

  “Because you both look like you just stuck your finger into an electrical socket.” She meant that we looked jittery and crazy-eyed. And that is how you look after you stick your finger into an electrical socket. I know from experience. When I was little, I had trouble sometimes “making good choices” like they told us to do in preschool. />
  “Ha-ha-ha,” my mom said. She didn’t actually laugh; she said “ha-ha-ha.” “Everything is fine. But you haven’t seen your aunt Zephyr, have you? We’ve looked all over for her and don’t know where she is.”

  “I haven’t seen her,” said Dylan. “You think she finally decided to leave?”

  “She just got here yesterday,” my mom answered.

  “Long enough for me.” Dylan scowled.

  Mom didn’t say anything.

  “I’ve got homework,” Dylan said, and went upstairs to her room.

  It was only a few seconds later that we heard her scream.

  Mom and I ran up the stairs to her room.

  “What on earth?” Mom yelled. Aunt Zephyr was sitting on Dylan’s bed, wearing only a towel around her body and a towel around her hair.

  “I thought you said she wasn’t here!” Dylan shouted. “Scared me to death, someone sitting on my bed when I opened the door! What’s she even doing in my room?”

  “A thousand pardons for invading your sanctuary,” said Aunt Zephyr. “My aim isn’t what it used to be.”

  “Aim?” asked Dylan. Then she whispered to Mom, “She is such a freak!”

  “Dylan,” Mom said. “You haven’t had a snack since you got home from school. Why don’t you run down to the kitchen and pour yourself a nice glass of milk? I made chocolate chip cookies.”

  “Cookies?” Dylan questioned, her eyebrows arched like rainbows. “All right. But can you please get her out of here?”

  “Watch yourself, Dylan,” Mom cautioned. “You will treat your aunt Zephyr with respect.”

  Dylan rolled her eyes but was too scared of Mom to say anything back. She knew she was one smart-mouthed comment away from losing her cell phone for a week, and as a middle schooler, Dylan did not think it was physically possible to live without her phone. She stomped downstairs.

  Once Dylan was gone, Mom whispered, “Zephyr, we’ve been worried sick! Where have you been?”