Lost and Found

by Weiss, M. Jerry; Weiss, Helen S.; Abelove, Joan; Zindel, Paul; Lubar, David; Hansen, Joyce

• ISBN13: 9780812568660
• ISBN10: 0812568664
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2001-08-13
• Publisher: Forge

Summary

From the editors of From One Experience to Another comes a new collection featuring celebrated writers for young adults. Contributors include Newbery Medal winners Jerry Spinelli and Betsty Byars, Paul Zindel, winner of the Pulitzer Prize for Drama, and Jon Scieszka, author of The Stinky Cheese Man & Other Fairly Stupid Tales, a New York Times "Notable Book of the Year." Other authors include T.A. Barron, Tamora Pearce, Mary Ann McGuigan, Lois Metzger, Mel Glenn, Joyce Hansen, Rich Wallace, Joan Abelove and Eleanora E. Tate.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgments	ix
M. Jerry Weiss
Helen S. Weiss
Note to the Reader	xi
Duel Identities	1	(20)
David Lubar
The Book	21	(16)
Shelley Stoehr
To Express How Much	37	(14)
Mary Ann McGuigan
As Skinny Does	51	(12)
Adele Griffin
Kids in the Mall	63	(24)
Mel Glenn
Testing	87	(20)
Tamora Pierce
Thirteen Diddles	107	(16)
Jon Scieszka
Tell Me Who You Hang Out With and I'll Tell You What You Are	123	(18)
Eleanora E. Tate
Final Cut	141	(12)
Rich Wallace
The World of Darkness	153	(12)
Lois Metzger
A Safe Space	165	(16)
Joyce Hansen
Sproing!	181	(14)
Joan Abelove
Rachel's Vampire	195	(10)
Paul Zindel
About the Contributors	205

Excerpts

Duel Identities David Lubar My files are filled with short stories inspired by small experiences and observations. The slightest oddness can strike a spark that sends me rushing to the word processor (unless there's something good on TV at the time). Usually, I take that oddness and create a fantasy or horror tale. But when I sat down to write a story for this collection, something interesting happened. I intended to play by the rules and start with one small experience. But as I dug into the murky depths of my high school memories, lifting chunks of experience the way the police raise abandoned cars from a river, two long-lost incidents broke the surface. Between them lay a season of other memories. So, excuse me for going overboard, but this story contains more personal experiences than anything I've ever written. Sadly, the opening incident is true. Amazingly, so is the final incident. At least, most of it. As for the portion in the middle, much of it is based on experience. But I didn't hesitate to change the things that needed to be changed. Fiction isn't about telling what happened. It's about telling what is true. Enjoy. I committed my first act of self-destruction less than five minutes into third period. We were sitting in the bleachers while Mr. Cadutto spelled out the basic facts of gym class to us brand spanking new freshmen. After explaining how many points we got for taking a shower and how many points we lost for forgetting our gym clothes, Mr. Cadutto said, "Okay. We're gonna pick four team leaders. You'll help set things up, so you won't get to do no calisthenics." Whoa. That caught my attention.Miss calisthenics. My heart leaped at the opportunity to avoid having my heart leap. I joined the hand wavers, though I noticed that none of my fellow overachievers from first period honors English had entered this particular lottery. I'd already figured out thathonorwas an odd word around here. From the varsity jackets of the crowds in the hallway to the huge trophy case that faced the main entrance, it was obvious that honor was paid more to the body than the mind at Kennedy High. Mr. Cadutto scanned us like a rancher at a beef auction. "You can't be a leader unless you go out for atleast two sports." Half the hands dropped. Mine remained airborne. Despite an inherited lack of bulk or speed or power, I did have two sports in my extracurricular plans. One just for the heck of it, but the other because it had entered my dreams in the hazy days of childhood, and remained there ever since. Mr. Cadutto pointed to Bruno Haskins, up at the top of the bleachers, "Football and wrestling, right, Haskins?" he growled. "Right, Coach." Mr. Cadutto waved Bruno down. I sensed a rigged election. The gym teacher obviously already knew the star athletes in our class. Bruno jogged to the bottom of the bleachers, making each row bounce under his weight. Mr. Cadutto selected Kyle Barrister next, and then Mookie Lahasca, two other champion jocks. Three down, one to go. He scanned us again, then frowned. I guess the jock gene pool had dried up too fast. He stared right at me. His brow creased with a puzzled expression. "You," he barked, pointing one large sausage of a finger in my direction. He ran his eyes over my imposing seventy-eight-pound frame. "Wrestling?" No way. There was zero appeal in the thought of having my body tied in knots like a rawhide dog chew. I shook my head. "Track?" he asked, with a touch of disdain. Another shake. "Swimming?" Nope. "So what's your two sports?" I uttered three innocent words. "Fencing and tennis.&