On the Spotlight: 'Diary of a Real Payne Book 2: Church Camp Chaos,' by Annie Tipton
Title:
Diary of a Real Payne Book 2: Church Camp Chaos
Genre:
Fiction – Children / Juvenile
Author:
Annie Tipton
Publisher:
Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Purchase
link: www.barbourbooks.com
ABOUT THE BOOK: In
this second fabulous release in the Diary of a Real Payne series for 8- to
12-year-old girls, young readers will find themselves ROTFL as EJ is more
than ready to be done with Ms. “Picky” Pickerington, CoraLee McCallister,
and fourth grade in general. Hello sunshine, hello 11th birthday party, hello
free time, hello. . .CAMP! It’s EJ’s first summer to spend an entire week at
Camp Christian: friends, swimming, bunk beds, games, campfires, s’mores,
hiking, and even a gigantic zip line. In classic EJ form, she dreams up
even more fantastic adventures for herself. It’s colossal fun and Church
Camp Chaos for EJ fans!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Award-winning author Annie Tipton made up her first story at the ripe
old age of two when she asked her mom to write it down for her. (Hey, she was
just two—she didn’t know how to make letters yet!) Since then she has read and
written many words as a student, newspaper reporter, author, and editor. A
native of Wooster, Ohio, Tipton received a bachelor’s degree in Communications
at Milligan College in Northeast Tennessee. She
currently resides in New Philadelphia, Ohio.
EXCERPT
May 25
Dear
Diary,
Remember
when I started writing in you last summer? Remember the fun we had and the
memories we made? Wasn’t it great?
Remember how I
got lazy and stopped writing in you after Christmas?
Yeah, that happened. I’m sorry. The
good news is, I’m back now!
Why did I stop
writing in you? I blame the longest, most frigidest and snowiest winter ever in
the history of Wisconsin. I like snow as much as the next midwestern girl
(sledding and snow forts and snowmen and snowball fights and ice skating are
the best!), but by the time January rolled around and the serious cold set in,
most of my daydreams had something to do with turning into a bear just so I
could actually hibernate until
spring. How cold was it? I’m talking temperatures that would freeze the inside
of your nose (also known as the weirdest feeling ever) the instant you stepped
outside.
During a
particularly cold week in February when the temperature was way below zero
every day, Dad decided to do a little arctic weather experiment he’d seen on an
Internet video. Of course, this got me and my little brother, Isaac, curious
because the last time Dad tried something he saw on the Internet, it ended with
Diet Coke and Mentos (you know, those white, round-shaped mints you can get at
the grocery store checkout) sprayed all over the side of the minivan. (Mom
wasn’t too thrilled about that.)
But with no soda
or mints in sight, I asked Dad what he was going to do this time, but he just
said to watch and wait. So Dad bundled up like was going on a long trek through
the snow-covered streets. Then he filled a pan with water from the sink and put
it on the stovetop to heat up. Again we tried to ask him questions, but he just
acted like he couldn’t hear us through his toboggan hat and scarf wrapped around
his face and ears. When the water got to a good boil, Dad picked the pan up by
its handle, pushed through the kitchen door, and stepped out onto the back
patio. Mom, Isaac, and I pressed up against the window to watch. Already we
could see billowing steam coming off the hot water in the pan. He pointed at
the steam and gave a thumbs-up with his gloved hand, and then, without warning,
he hurled the boiling water up into the air!
(Side note: I’m
just a kid, Diary, but even I know
throwing boiling water up in the air would normally be a supremely dumb idea. .
.but in subzero temperatures, something almost like magic happened.)
The instant the
water hit the freezing air, it burst into an exploding cloud of white snow and
ice that fell back to the ground as the wind blew it toward the swing set at
the edge of the backyard. In two words, it was spectacularly magnificent.
Now it’s May,
and I think it’s safe to say spring
has finally arrived in Spooner, Wisconsin. This is the time of year when the
entire state steps outside, breathes in a chestful of fresh spring air, and
dances a little jig of happiness. Isaac’s jig is the goofiest of all. He kicks
his legs back behind him and throws his head back. He is convinced that if he
tries hard enough, he’ll be able to kick himself in the back of the head.
At least the kid
has goals, I guess.
There are only
three days of school left till summer vacation. (Can you hear the students of
Spooner Elementary shouting, “Hallelujah”?) I never thought I’d say this,
Diary, but fourth grade hasn’t been so bad. Sure, the year started out a little
rough when I thought Ms. Picky Pickerington and I wouldn’t get along,
but after the school spelling bee in the fall when I came in second place, Ms.
Pickerington started to warm up to me. She even started calling me “EJ” instead
of “Emma Jean.” Well, she tried.
Ms. P: [not looking up from the papers she’s
grading at her desk] EG, would you hand out one of these worksheets to each
student, please?
[Awkward
silence in the classroom]
Ms. P: [looking up at me, over the top of her
reading glasses] Emjay, didn’t you hear me? Please come hand out these
worksheets to your classmates.
[I
continue to look down at my desk, concentrating on the math problem in front of
me. My classmate CoraLee taps me on the shoulder, points toward Ms.
Pickerington, and smirks at me.]
Me: What? Ms. P?
Are you talking to me?
Ms. P: I most
certainly am, Eee-Jaaay. If you aren’t going to respond to your initials, then
perhaps I should go back to calling you by your real name, Emma Jean—
Me: No! I mean,
no thank you, Ms. P. I was just making the numbers line up in perfect columns
on my multiplication worksheet—just like you like them. I promise to listen
more carefully for my name, ma’am.
Ms. P: See that
you do, AJ. See that you do.
From
then on, I pretty much answered Ms. P anytime I heard the letters E or J come out of her mouth.
CoraLee
McCallister is still mostly terrible. She doesn’t know it was me, my family,
and our neighbor Mr. Johnson who helped them a few months ago when CoraLee’s
dad was out of work and they didn’t have money for Christmas presents. Let me
tell you, Diary, there have been so many times when CoraLee is being not nice
to me that I want to blurt out the secret—just so I could see the look of shock
and surprise on her face! But the truth is I kind of like knowing something she
doesn’t know (it makes me feel a good kind of sneaky), and even though CoraLee
isn’t the nicest person on the planet, I’m honestly glad we helped the
McCallisters.
Speaking of CoraLee,
she and I both competed in the regional spelling bee in February after we came
in first (CoraLee) and second (me) in the Spooner Elementary spelling bee last
fall. And guess what. I won!
Okay, that’s not
entirely true. I went out in the eighth round on the word accommodate when I left out an M. But, I did get further in the competition than CoraLee did! She
went out in the fifth round on the word panicked,
which, if I’m being 100 percent honest, is a pretty tricky word. I’m counting
the fact that I outlasted CoraLee as a big win for me!
Isaac started
losing baby teeth on his sixth birthday on April 6, so he’s looking even
weirder than normal with one top tooth and one bottom tooth missing. And now
that he knows about the tooth fairy and the cash he can score, he’s constantly
trying to pull teeth before they’re ready to come out—or even a tiny bit loose,
for that matter. I told him he’d better stop or he’ll be toothless and all
he’ll be able to eat is mashed-up bananas. I guess Isaac thought eating mashed-up
bananas sounded like a great idea because he immediately started into his best
impression of a chimpanzee—scratching his armpits, jumping in place, and
screeching, “Ooo! Ooo! Ahh! Ahh!” at me.
Ugh. Little
brothers.
My eleventh
birthday is in just a couple of weeks, so I’m super excited about that. The
party is going to be a mystery dinner theater planned by Mom and my favoritest
neighbor, Mrs. Winkle! Nana and Pops are going to be visiting from Ohio over my
birthday, too. It’s going to be fantastic!
There’s so much
to look forward to this summer, Diary, but the thing I am absolutely, beyond
description, outrageously happy about is that I get to go to a whole week of
church camp! Yes! It’s what I’ve been
waiting for my whole life! No more day camp (for babies!) or overnight camp
(for slightly older babies!) but a whole Monday-to-Saturday week of adventure!
My best friend, Macy, is going to go to camp, too. Things couldn’t be more
perfect!
Camp is in July.
Is it too early to start packing?
EJ
Chapter
1: School’s Out for Summer
May 28
Dear
Diary,
Tomorrow
is the last day of school! Other than Christmas and my birthday, the last day
of school is the best day of the year. Outdoor games in the morning (my class
is going to dominate the tug-of-war this year because we have the biggest boys
in all of the fourth grade!) and a picnic at the park in the afternoon. The
bestest of best days.
Isaac has been so excited for the
last day of school that every morning for a month, the first question out of
his mouth has been, “Is today the last day, Marmalade?” (Can you believe he
still calls Mom by that silly old nickname?) And every day Mom has answered,
“No, it’s not the last day quite yet. But it’ll be here soon.” After Isaac
asked the same question four days in a row, Mom decided to make a “Last Day of
School Countdown” chart to put on the refrigerator. One afternoon she took a
bunch of pictures of us while we made our best crazy faces. (“Okay, this time I
want you to look so excited that your head is about to explode!” she said.) She
even let my pup, Bert, get in on the action! What were the pictures for? We
found out the next morning when Mom unveiled the countdown chart, complete with
little magnets made out of our crazy-face pictures that we used to cover up each
day as we counted down to the last day. We saved the “so excited our heads are
about to explode” magnets for tomorrow—the last day of school!
EJ
“EJ!
Look!” Macy waved her arms excitedly from behind a bench on the Spooner
Elementary School playground. “It’s like some kind of miracle!”
“What is it, Mace?” EJ rounded the
bench, crouched down next to her best friend, and peered at the “miracle”—a
tiny, crystal-clear butterfly chrysalis hanging from one of the bench’s wooden
slats. EJ’s eyes widened in amazement as she realized she was looking at the
black-and-orange wing of a Monarch butterfly.
“It’s trying to come out,” Macy
whispered. “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”
EJ held her breath as the cocoon
quivered and the bottom split open. A few seconds later, the butterfly began to
emerge, sliding out a fraction of an inch while its tiny black legs scrambled
furiously to escape its see-through prison.
After about a minute, the entire
butterfly was out and clinging to the empty shell of the cocoon as it unfolded
its brand-new wings and took a couple of tentative trial flaps.
“That. Was. Awesome,” Macy said.
“Think of it, EJ! That little guy just completely changed. A whole new
identity!”
“Like a superhero—and it can even
fly!” EJ said, grinning. “I bet he’s not sorry to say good-bye to his lame
caterpillar body.”
“What are you two dorks doing back
there?” CoraLee perched high on her knees on the bench and sneered down at
them.
EJ opened her mouth to tell CoraLee
to buzz off, but the almost-always-nice Macy started to speak first.
“We found a butterfly that just came
out of its cocoon—come look, CoraLee!” Macy scooted over to make room for
CoraLee. EJ decided she wouldn’t budge an inch.
“Gross!” CoraLee scrunched her nose
in disgust and cupped her hands around her mouth, shouting, “MS. PICKERINGTON,
EJ IS OVER HERE PLAYING WITH BUGS!”
“CoraLee, what is your problem?” EJ jumped to her feet and
rounded the bench, coming at CoraLee with gritted teeth and fists at her sides.
“We’re not hurting anyone or anything!”
CoraLee put her hands on her hips,
nose in the air. “Ms. P. thinks proper young ladies shouldn’t play with bugs, Emma Jean.”
Ms. Pickerington, wearing a sun
visor on her head and a whistle around her neck for field day, marched up to
the girls in a huff. “CoraLee, what’s all the shouting about? It’s time for
fourth grade to head down to the soccer field for tug-of-war and relay races.”
“EJ is playing with bugs.” CoraLee
used her best tattletale voice and aimed her pointer finger right at EJ’s nose,
so close that EJ’s eyes crossed a little bit as she watched CoraLee’s finger.
“Ms. P, ma’am, we aren’t playing
with bugs.” Macy stepped from behind the bench, her hands behind her back. “We
were watching a butterfly come out of its cocoon. See?” Macy revealed her left
hand, palm up, where the small butterfly remained for a second before flapping
its wings to take off on its first wobbly flight.
“Oh, how lovely.” Ms. P’s breath
caught in her throat as she watched the delicate creature flit toward the
monkey bars.
A few moments later, Ms. P snapped
out of her trance and turned back to the girls. EJ braced herself for the
scolding she was sure was about to come out of her teacher’s mouth.
“CoraLee, it would do you well to
mind your own business, dear,” Ms. P said, pursing her lips. “In other words, I
think you should try to be less of a tattletale.”
“What? I mean, are you serious?”
CoraLee looked shocked. But EJ looked even more shocked, her mouth hanging
open, looking back and forth between her teacher and archnemesis.
“Quite serious,” Ms. P said. “Now,
CoraLee, please go to the soccer field with the rest of the fourth graders.
We’ll be there shortly.”
Speechless, CoraLee shot one more
spiteful look at EJ before stomping toward the rec field, cross-armed and
red-faced.
“You know, EJ, I’m proud of you,”
Ms. P said.
“Proud of me?” EJ looked confused.
“For playing with bugs?”
“No, no.” A smile tugged at the
corners of Ms. P’s mouth. “I’m proud of you because the Emma Jean Payne I met
at the beginning of fourth grade was too busy imagining herself doing a space
walk on top of the monkey bars to see the miracles going on around her every
day—like that butterfly coming out of its chrysalis.”
“Well, to be honest, Ms. P,” EJ
said, jabbing her thumb toward Macy. “It wasn’t me who found it. It was Macy.”
“Then good for you for picking your
friends wisely,” Ms. P said. “And Macy, thanks for keeping EJ’s feet on the
ground. I can tell you two balance each other out.”
EJ and Macy smiled at each other.
Even though Macy was in a different fourth-grade class, she’d heard the stories
(mostly from EJ) about how hard it was to stay on Ms. P’s good side.
“Okay, girls, let’s get down to the
soccer field so our class can beat your class in the fourth-grade tug-of-war,
Macy,” Ms. P said with an uncharacteristic twinkle in her eye.
“You’re on, Ms. P!” Macy said.
[Scene Break]
Twenty
minutes later, after Ms. P’s class had completely dominated the tug-of-war
tournament, the fourth graders were preparing to start a three-legged race.
EJ tugged on the
rope that tied one of Macy’s and EJ’s knees together.
“Is it supposed to be this tight?”
EJ asked.
“It needs to be snug like that so we
can run like we’re one person,” Macy said, looking around at their competition.
“We’re lucky we’re so close to being the same height.” She nodded toward a
handful of kids practicing on the sidelines. “CoraLee and Sarah are going to
have a tough time.”
Sarah Powers was a girl in EJ’s
class who had started an impressive growth spurt the summer before fourth grade
and now was at least seven inches taller than anyone their age—boy or girl. It
was pretty much a guarantee that Sarah would be the first person chosen for
most teams; she could hurl a dodge ball with major-league-pitching speed and
shoot a basketball over the outstretched arms of any opponent. CoraLee had
quickly snatched Sarah up as her three-legged race partner, figuring Sarah was
such a good athlete that they’d be sure to win. But as EJ watched the two girls
practice for the three-legged race, she thought they looked more like a newborn
giraffe trying to take its first few awkward steps than two girls tied together
at the knees.
“Put your arm around my
shoulder—like this.” Macy took EJ’s left arm and draped it around her own
shoulder. “And I’ll put my right arm over your shoulder. That’ll help us stay
together even more.”
“How do you know so much about
three-legged races?” EJ asked. “Is this a secret gymnastics event I’ve never
seen at one of your competitions?” Macy had taken gymnastic lessons since she
was three and was really good. EJ had taken six weeks of lessons when she was
three until the teacher suggested to Mom that EJ should try doing something
that didn’t require balance or coordination.
Macy laughed. “No, we don’t do
three-legged races, but one time we did a team-building exercise where we tied
our ankles to someone else’s, and we all had to get through an obstacle course.
We weren’t quite as graceful that day as you’d expect a team of gymnasts to be,
that’s for sure.”
“Like a gymnast centipede—all tied
together in a line?” EJ asked, imagining a multi-legged gymnast trying to walk
across a balance beam.
“Exactly,” Macy said. “Compared to
that, this race will be a piece of cake.”
Macy and EJ practiced walking
together, first slowly as Macy called out “out, in, out, in!” taking steps with
their outside legs and then inside legs at the same time. Pretty soon they were
able to start jogging, and then they even sprinting a few steps. The pair ended
their practice at the starting line, just as Ms. P blew her whistle and told
everyone to take their marks.
There were about a dozen teams lined
up for the race, everyone looking mildly uncomfortable at being tied to someone
else. CoraLee and Sarah were directly to their right, the girls arguing over
how to call out instructions to each other during the race.
“It needs to be ‘right, left,’ ”
CoraLee insisted. “For crying out loud, Sarah! Just follow me and let me do
it!”
“CoraLee.” Sarah’s voice sounded
strained, like she was trying her best to be patient with her partner. “Your right leg is tied to my left leg, so we need to move our opposite legs at the same time or we
will end up in a heap on the ground.”
EJ tried to hide a grin and focused
back on Macy and the race.
“We got this, Mace,” EJ said,
holding up her palm toward her best friend.
“We got this, EJ,” Macy replied,
slapping EJ’s hand in a high five.
“Ready?” Ms. P called out. “Steady!
Go!”
At the sound of Ms. P’s whistle,
everyone bolted forward—five of the teams falling flat on their faces. For a
split-second, the distraction of arms and legs flailing around EJ made her
forget which leg to move first, but she felt Macy’s confident step tug on her
inside leg, and she heard Macy’s clear voice shout, “In! Out! In! Out!” and
they took off, quickly falling in step with each other.
EJ saw CoraLee and Sarah out of the
corner of her eye—Sarah picking up CoraLee by the waist after they had fallen
to the ground with their first step.
“Arrrgggghhh!”
CoraLee let out a frustrated part-scream-part-grunt that sounded to EJ like the
sound a baby giraffe might make. . . .
The baby giraffe takes another
loping step, finally finding its footing, and lurches forward into an awkward
run. Looking around frantically, the gangly creature searches for its mother,
but she is nowhere to be found.
“Aww, what a cute little giraffe. .
. .” EJ said dreamily, looking over her shoulder at CoraLee and Sarah,
imagining the baby giraffe. “But where’d the mom go?”
“Come on—they’re gaining on us!”
Macy said, shaking EJ by the shoulder. “Stay with me, EJ!”
EJ blinked her eyes rapidly to try
to keep the daydream from taking over. Focus,
EJ—Macy’s counting on you! she told herself.
“Out! In! Out! In!” EJ fell in step
with Macy, and they started gaining speed. Twenty yards from the finish line. .
.fifteen yards. . .
EJ took a quick peek to her right
and left and didn’t see any of the other teams in her line of vision. Were they
really going to win the race this easily?
A second later, CoraLee and Sarah
came out of nowhere and caught up to Macy and EJ. EJ couldn’t imagine that they
had so quickly figured out how to work together as a team, but then she saw how
it happened: Sarah’s arms were around CoraLee’s waist, and the taller girl was literally
carrying her partner to the finish
line.
EJ had to admit Sarah’s athletic
ability was pretty impressive right now.
“Hey, no fair!” EJ shouted, still
keeping in step with Macy. “That’s cheating!”
“Says who?” CoraLee hissed at EJ.
“Get outta the way, EJ Payne-in-my-neck!” CoraLee stuck her leg out just enough
to trip EJ’s outside leg.
EJ put her free hand out her just in
time to catch herself from taking a face plant in the grass. In the same
moment, she saw that CoraLee’s foot had gotten tangled up with Sarah’s foot and
they were falling forward, too.
EJ lifted her head saw the finish
line was just a few feet ahead of them.
“Macy! Tuck and roll!” she shouted.
With the skill of a pro gymnast,
Macy dropped her shoulder toward EJ and propelled herself forward in a burst of
speed and power that rolled EJ forward as well. Time seemed to stand still for
a moment.
“EJ and Macy—winners!” Ms. P
shouted, tweeting her whistle.
Flat on their
backs, EJ and Macy looked up at the sky, trying to catch their breaths.
“Mace?”
“Yeah?”
“I never thought
I’d say this,” EJ said, rising up on her elbows. “But that finish was better
than anything even my imagination could’ve come up with.”
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