Robyn Reports the Election- Chapter 7
The story so far: As Robyn and her friends went through the neighborhood to cover the Election Day news, the ballot box was stolen. Robyn thinks she knows who took the missing ballot box.
“How do you know who stole the ballot box?” Corinna asks.
I hold up the piece of paper from the garbage.
“This!” I say. “It tells me everything I need to know.” Corinna raises one eyebrow. I don’t think she believes me.
“What does it say?” she asks.
Up in the morning by dawn’s early light. I’ll take this box and release it to flight.
Corinna still isn’t convinced. I can tell by the look on her face.
“How does that tell you anything?” she asks. “It’s just some poem.”
“Exactly!” I say. “It’s a poem. And you know who writes poetry?” Corinna raises one eyebrow again.
“Umm … the ballot box stealer?”
“Yes!” I say. “It’s Elle.”
“Robyn!” Corinna says. “How could you accuse Elle? She’s the oldest person in the neighborhood.”
“Everyone is a suspect!” I say. “It doesn’t matter what age you are!” Corinna grabs my arm and pulls me into the voting booth
“Listen,” she whispers. “You can’t go around accusing people like Elle of stealing. The neighborhood wouldn’t like it.”
“Trust me,” I say. “Have I ever been wrong before?” Corinna just stares at me.
“Corinna!” I say.
“Well, I’m thinking about it,” she says. She closes her eyes like she’s in deep thought. When she opens them, she smiles.
“No,” she says. “I don’t think you have been wrong before.”
“See,” I say. “Now come on.” We duck out of the voting booth. I walk back to Mrs. McMillan. I have to talk to her about her mom.
“We need to talk,” I say.
“Oh!” she says. “Did you forget something, Robyn dear?”
“I’d like to talk to you in private,” I say. She leads Corinna and me behind the voting table.
“What can I do for you girls?” she asks.
“We need to know where Elle is,” I say.
“What for?” she asks. I hand her the piece of paper with the poem.
“I think you should read this,” I say. As I watch her read, I see her eyes get big.
“Uh-oh,” she says.
I turn to Corinna. I hope she sees that I’m right. She rolls her eyes.
Mrs. McMillan hands the piece of paper back to me.
“Let’s go find my mother,” she says.
We walk around the library, but Elle is nowhere to be seen. Mrs. McMillan bites her lip. “Oh, mom!”
I feel bad for making Mrs. McMillan worry.
“It’s okay,” I say. “We’ll find her.”
“It’s my fault,” she says. “I bet Mom is up to one of her tricks.”
Suddenly, Corinna understands.
“So Elle did steal the ballot box?” she asks.
“She didn’t steal it,” Mrs. McMillan says. “She probably just thinks she’s being funny.”
Corinna giggles. “It is kind of funny,” she says.
I open the clue and read it again.
Up in the morning by dawn’s early light. I’ll take this box and release it to flight.
“Ah-ha!” I say. “There’s a clue right here.”
Corinna takes the paper from me.
“I don’t see a clue,” she says.
“It says, ‘I’ll take this box and release it to flight,'” I say. “So where do things fly?”
Corinna gives me a weird look. “Um … in the sky?” she asks.
“Yes!” Mrs. McMillan says. “Mom is outside!”
We run out the side door of the library.
“Okay. Now which direction does the sun rise?” I ask.
“The sun rises in the east and sets in the west,” Mrs. McMillan says.
“Exactly!” I say. “We need to look for her on the east side because her poem says ‘by the dawn’s early light.’ Dawn is in the morning.”
Mrs. McMillan leads us to the other side of the library. It’s just an alley.
“Mother!” Mrs. McMillan calls. “Are you out here?”
I see something move behind the air conditioner.
“I think Elle’s over there,” I say.
We run over to investigate.
“Look!” Corinna says.
The Election Day ballot box is sitting in the alley. An open book is next to it.
“What is that book?” Corinna asks.
“That is my mother’s poetry book!” Mrs. McMillan says.
We look around, but Elle is nowhere in sight. Mrs. McMillan looks like she might cry.
“We have to find my mother!”