2 An Educated Guess

CHAPTER TWO AN EDUCATED GUESS Flash freeze (verb). When objects are frozen pretty much right away, often by direct contact with liquid nitrogen, which is extremely cold and which you should never ever touch. You don't ever want to flash freeze your brother, but it's great to flash freeze food, especially ice cream! MS. DALY SET HER HANDS on the sides of the mystery box. "O-pen it! O-pen it!" some boys chanted in the back of the room. "Sure thing," said Ms. Daly. With a grunt, she heaved the box over her head. "Phew, it's heavy." With a wink, she set it down. "Just making sure everything's still in there. Plus, I want to torture you kids a little longer." Lifting the flaps, Ms. Daly opened up the carton. With a big grin, she lifted out a yellow tub of cornstarch. "Told you it was food!" shouted Memito, waving his finger. "Dude, you said it was candy." Elijah elbowed his table partner.

"Cornstarch is used in lots of experiments," I said. "Even non-food ones." "Not sure how you can be good observers if you're talking all at once." Ms. Daly tapped her foot. "Oops! Sorry!" Sometimes when I'm super excited, I get a little hyper. With a wave of my arm, I zipped my lips. Next Ms. Daly pulled out a glass jar of green powder. Then a jar of liquid bandage, alcohol pads, bowls, spoons, a package of cotton swabs, and beakers. Honestly, it didn't make sense. Nothing seemed to go together. "So, what do you think this is all about?" asked Ms. Daly. "Respond one at a time please." I made my best educated guess. "To create a first- aid kit?" "To make mummies," called out Steven from the back. "Exactly," said Birdie. "But green ones." "I like your ideas," said Ms. Daly. "But you people are as wrong as snow in July in Michigan." We laughed as she glanced out the window as snow flurries drifted down from the heavy gray sky. We were all buzzing with excitement since our first snowfall came early this year. "Now I'll give you one last clue." Ms. Daly poured

a quarter cup of water and mixed it with the powder to make a bright green liquid. Then, in one huge swallow, she drank it. I gasped. In chemistry, you never ever ever drink experiments. Mostly because chemicals can be way too hot or cold, or even worse, toxic. Ms. Daly waggled a finger. "All right, kiddos. Don't do this at home. Or ever. I only drank that because I knew what it was." She pulled out a packet of lime- flavored drink mix. "See?" "Yum!" Memito bopped in his seat. "Smells like lime and watermelon and summer. I'm drinking a gallon!" "Sorry. Not today," said Ms. Daly. "This afternoon, we're making fake tattoos." A bunch of kids cheered, especially Birdie, who's an amazing artist. "I already know what tattoo I'm going to make," she said with a shy smile. Of course she did. Back in kindergarten, when I was drawing stick figures, she was figuring out shading. Now, in fifth grade, I'm still drawing stick figures and she's making Mona Lisas. "Great!" I said to Birdie. "I mean about knowing what you're going to do for your tattoo." Only I was glad she didn't ask me what I planned to do. Because I seriously had no idea. When it comes to art, my brain definitely flash freezes. Birdie studied me. "Just draw what you like."

"Oh sure, that would be real easy." I like rockhopper penguins, but I don't think I could draw one. And I love chemistry, but how would I draw that? Chemistry is the part of science that deals with the form of matter and its surroundings. Like how a snowflake sparkles on your winter jacket, how cheese gets gooey on your pizza, and why there are shimmering pink rings around Saturn. So yeah, pretty much everything. I had to find one awesome tattoo idea. But what? From the box, Ms. Daly pulled out more drink mix packages, like blueberry, strawberry, grape, lemon, cherry, and watermelon. "You're going to pick one of these. If you're adventurous, you can pick a bunch. Each color requires a quarter cup of cornstarch and a quarter cup of warm water. Mix up your ingredients, and you're just about ready to make your tattoos." Soon enough, all the chemistry club members raced up to grab materials, and Ms. Daly handed out the directions on how to make fake tattoos. I chose watermelon since pink is my favorite color. Birdie choose grape, lime, and orange. Back at our table, after studying the directions, we got started. Only when I dipped my cotton swab into the pink mixture and tested it, it dribbled down my arm. Meanwhile Birdie had already painted the outline of a parrot on her skin. "That's so good," I said. "Not

just good. Amazing." Her amazingness made me feel a little bit like giving up. Or maybe trying something easy like a smiley face. Birdie studied the streaky drips on my arm. "Did you put in too much water?" "Probably." Grabbing the spoon, I spun the mixture so hard it swirled like a whirlpool. Birdie blew on the parrot tattoo on her arm. "See how it's lightening up? That means I can use the liquid bandage to lock it into place. Then I'll get started on a new color. Orange for the tail feathers." "That will look great, Birdie. Guess I'll make a smiley face." "Mmmhhm." But she wasn't really listening. She was stirring up the orange. I smushed my swab down in the beaker. Maybe that would get the pink mixture to stick to the tip of the swab. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something incredible across the room. Something incredible and way unexpected!