Full Speed Ahead: My Journey with Kit

I nod, telling Kit that I might as well. I pick up my coat and the sack of potatoes and we all head inside. We go up two flights of stairs to Kit’s room. It turns out to be an attic. A sleepy-looking basset hound greets us at the top of the stairs. Kit strokes the dog’s ears and tells me her name is Grace. Buddy bounces all around Grace, who smiles drooly at him. They’re instant friends. At home, I’d toss my coat and the sack of potatoes on the floor. But Kit’s room is organized and orderly. I put my coat and the sack on a chair. There are four alcoves with windows. One alcove has a bed and a big plant. In another, there’s a comfy, looking chair, a lamp, and a bookshelf overflowing with enticing books. In the third alcove, there’s a baseball glove and bat and a tennis racket with balls, and in the last alcove, there’s a big desk with a typewriter on it.

I tell Kit that her room is adorable. It reminds me of Sara Crewe’s attic in A Little Princess. Kit asks if I’ve read that book, too. I tell her it’s one of my favorites. Kit says that she and her friend Ruthie love that book. She looks around and grins. Just like Sara Crewe, Kit was sad when she first moved up here. She had to give up her bedroom downstairs so it could be rented to boarders. But then, she set up the attic room exactly the way she wanted it, and now she loves it. I think it’s really cool how Kit flipped a bummer into something good. I wonder if I could do that. I could change what bugs me instead of morphing and complaining about it.

Kit points to a black typewriter on the desk. She says her dad fixed it up for her because she loves to write. Kit hopes to be a reporter someday. I can use it to type a letter to my mother. Kit leaves. I’ve never touched a typewriter before. I sit down at the table at the desk. Boy, you have to push the keys down hard. And there’s no exclamation point. After I experiment, I discover I can make one by typing an apostrophe and then hitting backspace and putting a period under it. I can’t delete misspelled words, and there’s no spellcheck. I’m not quite a spelling bee champion, so the letter becomes polkadotted with words I cross out and retype until they look sort of correct. Anyway, I finally manage to type out a letter.

Dear Mom,

I hope you're sitting down. Because you're going to be surprized surprised when you read this: THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME TO SCIENCE CAMP!

Yes, you read it correctly. Even though I was grumpy about Camp Musqueoto Mosquitoh, now I am greatful gratefull that I went. I was helping a friend of mine in her garden, and because of what I learned at camp, I was able to save her and a dog from being bitten by a poisonus poisonous snake! I've never expected that anything I learned at camp would be useful, but knowing about snakes, save my friend's--and dog's--life! Mom, if I had a dog, I promise I would be rispon responsible for it. I know that I can be a good pet owner. I proved it to myself when I saved the dogs life today.

Please, after you read this, can we talk about getting a dog?

Love,

You're from grumpy to grateful daughter,

Me

After I’m done typing my letter, I realize that I must deliver it in person. And if I really want a dog, then I’ll have to put the letter in my pocket, click the camera, and go home. I’m very sorry to leave Kit and Buddy. My heart hurts just thinking of how much I’ll miss them. But I know it’s time to go.

I scribble a note on another sheet of paper:

I pin the note to the coat, tickled at the idea of how fashion forward Kit will be when she wears it. And then before I could change my mind, I click the camera.

When I get back in my room, I remember how organized and inviting Kit’s room was. So I straighten the things up in my room and put all the stuff away that’s lying on the floor. I go out into the balcony and stare at the horizon, as if I can see past it to Kit. The moon is very bright. It shines on the plants that Mom lined up on the balcony. They look a little thirsty and wilted, so I get the watering can and give each plant a good drink. I pull off the dead leaves, thinking about how Kit and I worked together in her garden.

Mom comes out on the balcony. She thanks me for taking care of the plants. I tell her that I got the idea from helping a friend of mine. And she gave me the idea of writing this, too. I pull the letter out of my pocket and hand it over to Mom.