Free Never Race a Runaway Pumpkin by Katherine Applegate Page B

But superstitions aren’t based on fact, and they aren’t real.”

    â€œMy mom broke a mirror in her purse,”Maya said. “And then she tripped on my sister’s skateboard and broke her toe.”
    â€œBut that could have happened even if she hadn’t broken a mirror,” said Ms. Diz.
    Emma raised her hand. “My neighbor had a black cat cross in front of her in the park. Then she went to a minigolf place and found a green beetle in her corn dog. She blamed the black cat.”
    â€œAnd I’ll bet you told her that didn’t make any sense,” said Ms. Diz.
    â€œNo,” said Emma. “I told her not to order the corn dog next time. The very next day she fell in a mud puddle. And after that a skunk got in her kitchen and she had to move out of her house for a week because of the smell.”
    â€œWow,” I said. “Black cats really are bad luck!”
    â€œRoscoe,” said Ms. Diz, “in many countries, black cats are considered good luck. But the truth is, black cats are not good luck or bad luck. Neither are green kangaroos or purple alligators.”
    â€œI know you’re the teacher and all,” I said, “but I’m pretty sure alligators don’t come in purple.”
    â€œLet’s try this another way,” Ms. Diz said. “Emma, do you think the black cat caused your neighbor’s problems?”
    Emma made a not-sure look.
    I know that look. I maybe even invented it.
    â€œHow many of you think the black cat caused Emma’s neighbor to eat a green beetle and fall in a mud puddle and have a skunk in her house?” Ms. Diz asked.
    We all raised our hands.
    â€œHow many of you think Maya’s mom tripped on a skateboard because she broke a mirror?” Ms. Diz asked.
    We all raised our hands again.
    â€œHow many of you think I should paint my room magenta?” Coco asked.
    Ms. Diz had that I-need-a-nap look she sometimes gets, but usually not until the end of the day.
    She took a deep breath. “Maybe we should move on to a different learning opportunity,” she said.

6
How Big Is That Pumpkin in the Window?
    After school my mom picked up Max, my big brother, and me so we could go to the store to get new jeans.
    All my knees had holes again.
    My little sister, Hazel, was in her car seat. She was wearing fairy wings, her swimsuit, pajama bottoms, and yellow mittens.
    The usual.
    â€œHazel, your socks don’t match,” Max said.
    â€œNeither do Roscoe’s,” she pointed out.
    â€œThe red one is my lucky sock,” I said. “When I wear it on my right foot, something good always happens.”
    â€œRemind me to wash that one of these years,” Mom said.
    â€œSo what good thing happened today because of your red sock?” Hazel asked.
    â€œNothing yet,” I admitted. “But if Mom will take us to the bookstore, I think something wonderful might happen.”
    I gave Mom my sweetest smile.
    It takes all my smile muscles.
    â€œMom, can we go to the bookstore after we buy clothes?” I asked. “I need to weigh a giant pumpkin.”
    Mom looked at me in the rearview mirror. “Could you run that by me again?”
    I explained all about the pumpkin and the bookstore and the school winning lots of books.
    I kind of forgot to mention the part about me winning a googol pounds of candy.
    Mom said yes. Not even “We’ll see” or “Maybe some other time, Roscoe.”
    We drove to a giant store called the Clothes Closet. It has pants and socks and underwear and other stuff that wears out.
    It is also probably the most boring place on the planet.
    Finally it was time for the bookstore.
    Hilltop Bookstore was at the very tip-top of a big hill.
    Mom parked the car at the bottom of the hill near a statue of our town founder, Thomas Toadswaddle.
    It’s a very big statue made of metal.
    He is wearing an old-fashioned hat. And holding a porcupine.
    Nobody