The Outcasts of 19 Schuyler Place

A
THENEUM
B
OOKS FOR
Y
OUNG
R
EADERS
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, New York 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2004 by E. L. Konigsburg

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

Book design by O'Lanso Gabbidon

The text for this book is set in Bembo.
Printed in the United States of America

10   9   8   7   6   5

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Konigsburg, E. L.
The outcasts of 19 Schuyler Place / E. L. Konigsburg.—1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Upon leaving an oppressive summer camp, twelve-year-old Margaret Rose Kane spearheads a campaign to preserve three unique towers her great-uncles have been building in their backyard for more than forty years.
ISBN 0-689-86636-4
[1. Social action—Fiction. 2. Individuality—Fiction. 3. Uncles—Fiction. 4. Hungarian Americans—Fiction. 5. Camp—Fiction.]
I. Title: Outcasts of nineteen Schuyler Place. II. Title.
PZ7 .K8352Ou 2004
[Fic]—dc21 2003008067

eISBN-13: 978-1-44243-971-9

Also by E. L. Konigsburg

Jennifer, Hecate, Macbeth, William McKinley, and Me, Elizabeth

From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler

Altogether, One at a Time

A Proud Taste for Scarlet and Miniver

The Dragon in the Ghetto Caper

The Second Mrs. Giaconda

Father's Arcane Daughter

Throwing Shadows

Journey to an 800 Number

Up From Jericho Tel

Samuel Todd's Book of Great Colors

Samuel Todd's Book of Great Inventions

Amy Elizabeth Explores Bloomingdale's

T-Backs, T-Shirts, COAT, and Suit

TalkTalk

The View From Saturday

Silent to the Bone

This book is for David and for Jean,
who cheered its conception but sadly left it an orphan
before birth.

Part I:  Bartleby at Talequa

Chapter  One

Chapter  Two

Chapter  Three

Chapter  Four

Chapter  Five

Chapter  Six

Chapter  Seven

Part II:  Inside the Crypto-Cabin

Chapter  Eight

Part III: The Towers and the Town

Chapter  Nine

Chapter  Ten

Chapter  Eleven

Part IV:  Perfidy in Epiphany

Chapter  Twelve

Chapter  Thirteen

Chapter  Fourteen

Chapter  Fifteen

Chapter  Sixteen

Chapter  Seventeen

Chapter  Eighteen

Chapter  Nineteen

Chapter  Twenty

Chapter  Twenty-One

Part V:  Nine Points

Chapter  Twenty-Two

Chapter  Twenty-Three

Part VI: Back Inside the Crypto-Cabin

Chapter  Twenty-Four

Chapter  Twenty-Five

Part VII:  Phase One, Part B, and Phases Two and Three

Chapter  Twenty-Six

Chapter  Twenty-Seven

Chapter  Twenty-Eight

Chapter  Twenty-Nine

Part VIII:  Beyond Phase Three

Chapter  Thirty

 

The year that I was twelve:

Sally Ride became the first American woman in space

and

El Niño, a warming of the ocean water off the coast of Peru, affected weather worldwide and caused disasters on almost every continent on planet Earth. At El Niño's peak the day was 0.2 milliseconds longer because the angle of Earth shifted

and

President Ronald Reagan signed legislation declaring that Martin Luther King Jr. had been born on the third Monday of every January, and henceforth the day(s) of his birth would be a legal holiday in our nation

and

AT&T, the giant telephone company called Ma Bell, broke up and gave birth to several independent low-cost long-distance communications companies

and

The Federal Communications Commission authorized Motorola to begin testing cellular phone services in Chicago

and

Cabbage Patch dolls were selling so fast, merchants couldn't keep them on the shelves.

All of that is history now. And, fortunately, so is the story I am about to tell. It begins when Uncle Alex retrieved me from summer camp.

U
ncle Alex was sweating when he arrived at Camp Talequa. No wonder. The Greyhound bus had left him off at the point where the camp road meets the highway, and it was all uphill from there. The camp road was not paved but laid with rough gravel. It was July, and it had not rained for three weeks. Uncle walked those three dusty miles wearing wing-tip, leather-soled oxfords; a long-sleeved, buttoned-up shirt; suit jacket; necktie; and a Borsalino hat. Tartufo, his dog, walked at his side. He had bought his hat, his shoes, and his dog in Italy. His hat was tan, his shoes brown, and his dog was white with brown spots, but by the time they arrived at the office, all were gray with gravel dust.

Not until he was standing in front of the camp office did Uncle remove his Borsalino or put a leash on Tartufo. He stood on the bottom of the three steps leading to the office door and flicked the dust from his hat and, as much as he could, from Tartufo's paws. With his handkerchief, he wiped first his forehead and then his shoes. Having a shine on his shoes was an Old World point of pride.

Holding his hat against his chest and Tartufo's leash with one hand, he knocked on the office door with the other.

Mrs. Kaplan, the camp director, called, “Who is it?” and Uncle stepped inside. He told her that he was Alexander Rose and that he had come to take Margaret home.

For the best part of a minute, Mrs. Kaplan was speechless. At last she said, “And just
who
are you?”

“I am Margaret's uncle, Alexander Rose. Don't you remember? We spoke on the phone last night.”

Mrs. Kaplan had called shortly before nine. After introducing herself she had said, “We are calling, Mr. Rose, because Margaret seems to be having a bit of a problem adjusting to camp life.”

“What have you done?” he had asked.

“Everything,” she replied. “We have done everything we know how to do, but she is totally unresponsive. When we ask her to do something—anything—she says,‘I prefer not to.'”

“Let me talk to her.”

“We can't do that, Mr. Rose. Campers are to have no contact with their caregivers until the two-week adjustment period is over. We cannot make exceptions.”

“Then how can I possibly help?”

“We would like your input on how we can help her
want
to participate. We do not like to force our campers to participate.”

“I suggest you change your activities.”

“We can't do that, Mr. Rose. We cannot tailor our activities to every single child in this camp. As a matter of fact, it is the very nature of the activities we offer that sets Talequa apart from all the other camps. We want Margaret to fit in, Mr. Rose.”

“Let me think about this,” he said. “I'll be in touch.”

Uncle had thought about it and decided that the best thing he could do would be to go directly to Camp Talequa and bring me back with him.