Oct 25, 2016 5 min read

The story so far: Robyn has figured out that Mrs. McMillan’s mother probably took the missing ballot box, but now they are both missing.

I’ve never seen Mrs. McMillan so upset.

“Don’t worry,” I say. “Elle will show up.”

“It’s all my fault,” she says. “I never should have left her alone. What was I thinking?”

I turn to Corinna.

“We have to calm her down,” I whisper. Corinna nods.

“It’s all right, Mrs. McMillan,” Corinna says. “Let’s look back in the library.”

Before we can walk away, someone jumps out from behind the air conditioner.

“Boo!”

Elle is giggling. “I gotcha!” she says.

Corinna and I join in, laughing with Elle.

“I never knew you could move so fast!” Corinna says.

“Oh, honey,” Elle says. “I used to play basketball in the ’30s. I’ve got moves you’ve never seen.”

This makes Corinna and me laugh harder.

Mrs. McMillan scowls. “I’m glad you two think this is funny,” she says.

Elle pokes Mrs. McMillan in the ribs. “Come on and lighten up,” she says. “Did you see how fast I was moving?”

I think I see a little smile on Mrs. McMillan’s face.

She picks up the ballot box and hands Elle’s poetry book back to her. “This is the official ballot box!” she says.

“Come on,” Elle says. “This whole neighborhood needs to lighten up. I’ve never seen so many people get so worked up.”

“Let’s go,” Mrs. McMillan says. “You’ve caused enough trouble today!”

“Me? Trouble?” Elle says. “That’s nonsense! Now, if you want to hear about trouble, I could tell you about the trouble you caused me when you were in fourth grade.”

Corinna and I follow them back into the library.

“Election Day is never boring,” Corinna says.

Mrs. McMillan takes the ballot box back to the table. Election Day can finally begin.

It’s a good thing, too. The line leading out from the library is really long. I think the whole neighborhood came to vote.

Mrs. McMillan checks voters in at the table. Then they go to one of three voting booths. When they’re finished, they drop their vote in the official voting box. Corinna points to the box.

“Who knew that little box would cause so much trouble?” she says.

The voters in line look anxious. This is an important election. The neighborhood is voting on two very big issues today. First, we vote for the next president of the Neighborhood Association. We choose between Mrs. Palooso and Mr. Marx. I think about my rollerblades at home. I know whom I’m going to vote for.

Then there’s the park referendum. I had to ask my mom what a referendum is. She says it’s just a fancy name for a vote on Election Day. We’re voting whether we are for or against something. If you vote yes for the park referendum, you want a new fountain. If you vote against it, you want to keep the robin statue.

“Are you going to vote to keep the statue?” Corinna asks.

I shrug. “I can’t decide. How are you going to vote?”

“I didn’t even know we had a bird statue,” Corinna says.

It is 10 a.m. The polls close at noon. The election is underway. I know my reporters are ready. We have been preparing all week. They know exactly what to do. Logan is covering Mrs. Palooso’s election party. J.P. is covering Mr. Marx’s election party. Corinna and I will interview people after they vote.

“Ready?” Corinna asks.

I reach into my backpack for a new notebook. I’m going to need a lot of paper.

There are two main exits in the library. Corinna will stand at one, and I will stand at the other. Whenever someone comes out, we will ask how he or she voted. This is called exit polling. All reporters do it. It’s a good way to figure out who is most likely to win. The first person to come out my door is Andre Allen. I stop him right away.

“Could I ask you who you voted for?”

He stares down at me through his dark, thick glasses.

“That is my private business,” he says. “I think you are being very rude.”

“It’s confidential,” I say. “I’m not going to write down who people voted for. It’s just for The Robyn Report.”

He sneers and walks away. I guess some people don’t like talking to the media. The next few people who come out are nicer. Two people voted for Mrs. Palooso. Four people voted for Mr. Marx. Almost two hours later, Corinna and I compare notes.

It’s almost time to close the polls. There aren’t many more people coming out of the doors.

“What does it look like?” I ask her.

“It’s going to be close,” Corinna says. “Mr. Marx and Mrs. Palooso are almost dead even.”

I look down at my own notebook. My count shows them really close, too.

“ROBYN! CORINNA!”

We turn around. J.P. and Logan are standing at the bottom of the library steps.

“Why are you yelling?” I ask.

“Are you kidding?” Logan asks. “This is the most important part of the day!”

Corinna and I look at each other, confused. J.P. and Logan grab us by our backpacks.

“Hurry!”