I, Emma Freke (3 page)

“Happy Birthday DEAR EMMMMAAA . . . happy birthday to you!”

A few days later, Donatella, Penelope, Nonno, Eggplant, and I sat around the dinner table upstairs in our apartment, which was pretty cramped like the bead store. It consisted of one open space (which we called the Big Room) with two little bedrooms, a bathroom, and a loft upstairs in the attic where Nonno and Eggplant slept. The Big Room had a kitchen on one side and a sitting area on the other half where we mostly watched TV.

I was impressed that my mother had remembered my twelfth birthday and even bought a cake. It was a factory cake that came in a box from the grocery story in the frozen food aisle, but still.

I blew out the candles.

“Did you make a wish?” my mother beamed. She was the kind of person who believed in wishes.

“Maybe you wish stop the growing!” yelled Nonno and then laughed so hard he started to hack.

“If it were
me
,” said Penelope, “I'd wish for an orange convertible Mustang GT with a chrome grille and spinner hubcaps . . .
or
a sister.”

“A sister?” screeched Donatella. “Dear celestial heavens above, don't even joke about that.”

Penelope, who was just as feisty as Donatella, straightened in her seat like a peacock spreading massive feathers.

“It's no joke! That's exactly what I'm asking the Gray Moms for when I turn ten in August. They said that since it's my big double-digit birthday, I can have
whatever
I ask for.”

I frowned. Here I was thankful for a half-frozen strawberry cake from Shop & Stock while my only friend could have anything she wanted for her birthday. Maybe
I
could be Penelope's new sister.

“Hurry to cut cake, already,” said Nonno who was starting to nod off a little.

Donatella tapped my hand as I picked up the knife.

“You didn't tell us what you wished for, Emma.”

What I wished for? Where would I start? I wished for a normal mother who acted like one. I wished for a real house. I wished for friends. I wished to be shorter, prettier, funnier . . . all impossible wishes.

I looked at Donatella and wondered why she asked me that. She never cared about my dreams. She only cared about herself and who her next date would be.

“I forgot to make one,” I said.

I wasn't the kind of person who believed in wishes.

“Well I bet there's one you
would
have wished for above all others, and I'm going to make it come true!”

My mother twirled around and ran over to the sofa under which she was hiding a box. Her flowing pink dress and colorful head scarf made her look a little like a fairy godmother.

“I give gift too,” said Nonno. “
Mio
first!”

“No, me!” said Penelope who sprung out of her chair and dug into her pocket.

“Fine,” said Donatella as she sat back down with a medium square box in her lap wrapped in violet paper and white ribbons. “Penelope, then Nonno, then me.”

“Wow, I've never gotten this many presents before.”

Getting a present was hit or miss in our house. My mother usually gave me some sort of IOU. Nonno would give me something he thought up in his head seconds before, like a stroll on the beach or sharing a box of popcorn. But ever since I had known Penelope, since she was one, she always gave me something really nice.

I opened her tiny pocket present. It was wrapped tightly in a little red paper bag with funny Asian letters printed on it.

“Oh my gosh, it's a gold bead.”

Penelope stood up totally excited about her gift.

“It's a lot more than that—it's a good
mojo
gold bead!”

“What's good mojo?”

“You know, it's like a magic charm that brings good luck!”

Donatella shoved on her striped reading glasses and studied it.

“Where'd you find that? Maybe we can get those for the store.”

“Katherine got it for me in Hong Kong. I told her that was what I wanted to get you Emma, a pure gold bead, and she found it! But she said it was the only one like it.”

Nonno frowned. “That not real gold.”

Penelope put her hands on her hips.

“Of course it's real.”

Then Nonno took it from the palm of my hand, and before I could say anything, he popped it in his mouth and bit it.

“Okay. It real,” he confirmed and spit it into a napkin.

“What did you go and do that for?” snapped Penelope. “I said it was real. Why would we get a fake gold bead all the way from Hong Kong?”

Nonno shooed her away as if she didn't know what she was talking about. Then he leaned over and slowly lifted Eggplant up into his lap. The dog remained asleep even when Nonno accidentally clunked her head against the table.

“Pay my attention. Gift from me and Eggplant Parmigiana.”

“The dog?” whined Donatella. “Really, Nonno!”

“It's a cup of drool, I bet,” said Penelope, who then giggled uncontrollably at her own joke.

Nonno ignored her comment and pulled Eggplant up to a sitting position. The only problem was the old dog was still sleeping and slipped back down into his lap.

“She tell you later,” said Nonno. “Our gift, Emmaroni, is walk on beach
and
eat the popcorn box.”

I couldn't help smiling.

“Thanks, Nonno.”

“That's your present?” asked Penelope, scrunched up with disapproval. “That's what you always give her!”

But before Nonno could snap back at her, Donatella jumped up and cried, “Here comes the most fabulous present of the night!”

Not in all my twelve years could I remember my mother getting so excited over giving me something. Except maybe the time she bought me a costume tiara covered in glass diamonds, which she thought made me look like a real princess. But that was before I grew a foot in a year like a bamboo plant.

Donatella handed me the heavy box across the table past Penelope who was about to explode with anticipation. Wrapped in tons of sparkly tissue paper was an enormous hardcover volume entitled,
How to Learn at Home the Cosmic Way: Levels 6–12
, by Rhapsody Fig Merryweather.

I looked up at Donatella, a bit confused.

“How to learn
what
at home?”

Penelope had grabbed the box and was digging around looking to see if there was something else inside.

“Everything!” replied my mother as she swooped her arm in front of her exactly the way a fairy godmother grants a wish.

“Like what?” asked Penelope who dropped the empty box on the floor, just as baffled as I was.

My mother grabbed the book and turned to the table of contents.

“Read!”

I scanned the first page: Grade Level 6: Physical Science; Grade Level 6: Reading and Writing; Grade Level 6: Mathematics . . . . It went all the way up to Grade Level 12 subjects.

“But I already learn this stuff at school?”

“
That's
my present,” exclaimed Donatella who was still standing. “No more awful, horrible, terrible school! Nonno is going to
homeschool
you at the library! Everyone's doing it!”

In total astonishment, I looked at my grandfather who was now asleep and snoring like his dog, both their heads hanging limply to one side.

“She doesn't have to go to school?!” screamed Penelope. “Man, that's what I'm gonna ask for. That's the best present
ever
!”

“Didn't I tell you?” replied my mother, who sank regally into her seat.

Penelope continued to shriek, “You're the luckiest kid in Homeport, Emma! My gold bead is already working!”

I stared at the strawberry cake, now fully thawed and melting into a mushy mess. Something definitely didn't feel right about this present. How did Donatella arrange all this? She had never attended one school assembly, even when I was the main monarch butterfly in the garden of wisdom in third grade. I'm not even sure she knew where my school was.

But at the same time, I also felt Penelope may be on to something. Maybe this was my lucky break. I didn't need school really. I honestly felt as if I already knew everything the teachers ever taught us. Why not teach myself?

On second thought, this
could
be the best gift I ever got.

The day after my birthday was a Monday. I woke up at the usual time, 6:45, when I would get dressed for school. I always got ready by myself. Sometimes my grandfather and Eggplant were up just as I was leaving but never my mother. She normally slept until nine o'clock, an hour before the store opened at ten. Unless she had a late date.

But today was different. I stayed in bed and stared at the ceiling wondering what I was supposed to do next. Donatella said Nonno and I should discuss a schedule and figure out what I needed to learn. According to my mother, most home school kids did their bookwork at the library in the mornings and then interesting activities in the afternoons. Of course, she said, I already had an interesting afternoon activity. Working at the shop.

I decided to get up and make some breakfast. Normally I was in a rush and grabbed whatever I felt like eating, a cookie or a pudding. But today I thought I'd make a real breakfast like an omelet.

As I stood up, I caught a glimpse of myself in my bureau mirror. I couldn't believe how skinny and washed-out I was. And all the tiny freckles looked so weird, especially the ones on my face. Even worse, I noticed that the top of my head was cut off by the wooden frame. I moaned. When had that happened? I could always see my whole head in the mirror. Was I still growing? How big could I possibly get? At this rate, I was going to end up the tallest freak in the world.

I can't even remember the number of times people had asked me if I played basketball. I was so sick of that question. Maybe if I had, I would have fit in better at school. But I didn't even like basketball and never picked it to play in gym class. Just because I was tall, didn't mean I was any good. In fact, I generally stunk at sports. I doubt basketball would have been any different.

After I ate the eggs, I wondered if I should call the school to let them know I was never coming back. But then I remembered that Donatella said she had made all the arrangements, so they had to know. I would have loved to have seen Ms. Fiddle's face when they told her, “
Let's say this another way.
Emma quit school!”

The only thing on television was the news and little kids' shows. So I picked up
How to Learn at Home the Cosmic Way
and flipped through the pages. I noticed the lesson plans were a bit different from the usual textbook examples. Instead of using names like Nate and Sarah in their word problems, these kids were Taurus and Meridian, astrological terms. No wonder Donatella liked this book.

I jumped ahead to the seventh-grade section and wasn't surprised to find it was super easy since it was the end of May and sixth grade was almost over. Plus I already knew I was pretty much brighter than the rest of my class. But then I read through the eighth-grade level and found that only a little less easy than the one before. Not until I looked through the eleventh grade chapters did I begin to feel challenged.

That's when it dawned on me. I could be finished with high school before I turned thirteen years old—

“Morning, Emma-roni!”

Nonno and Eggplant shuffled into the room. They both walked exactly the same way.

“Morning! Want an omelet?”

Suddenly I was in a great mood. Better than I had ever felt in my life! In an instant, the years and years of horrible, terrible school ahead of me had vanished. It almost seemed as if my life was just beginning.

Nonno clapped his hands together.

“Delizioso! Love the omelet!”

As I poured the yellow liquid into the piping hot pan, I slipped a glass of prune juice in front of my grandfather, who was reading the paper.

“So what time do you want to leave for the library?” I asked.

At first he didn't answer so I moved closer and said it again louder.

He looked down at Eggplant as if I were asking her.

“Library?”

“Remember, Nonno? You're taking me to the library every day to help homeschool me.”

“Oh no, no library. All old women at library. All want to marry.”

Then he cracked open his paper and continued to read as he ate the eggs.

It figured.

I knew Donatella hadn't really arranged anything at all. But at that point, I didn't care. It was still clear to me that I did not need school anymore. I just needed to make a precise list of things to do, which was the way I always organized my life when it was spinning out of control. Then I would go to the library by myself and finish the giant book on my own. Who knows, maybe I'd finish by the end of the month. And then I could apply to colleges if I wanted to or even get my own apartment.

After all, I was pretty sure I was done with being a kid. No wonder I felt and looked like a freak and had no friends other than Penelope, who was friends with everyone. Everything made sense now. At some point during the last year or so, I had skipped past everyone my age . . . and turned into an adult.