Growing toward the Sun
For eleven-year-old Celeste everyone’s a possible criminal. After she deserts her little sisters to chase a suspect, her parents make rules.
If her giant imagination causes more trouble, she’ll lose phone privileges, mystery books, and free time. If she learns responsibility, they’ll buy the binoculars she needs for sleuthing.
Celeste vows to win the prize. Then a thief targets their Mennonite community and her peace-loving church people do nothing to stop it. Celeste fears Grandma or her best friend Lexi could be next.
But is going after the thief a responsible thing to do? Can Celeste solve the mystery and win the binoculars?
If her giant imagination causes more trouble, she’ll lose phone privileges, mystery books, and free time. If she learns responsibility, they’ll buy the binoculars she needs for sleuthing.
Celeste vows to win the prize. Then a thief targets their Mennonite community and her peace-loving church people do nothing to stop it. Celeste fears Grandma or her best friend Lexi could be next.
But is going after the thief a responsible thing to do? Can Celeste solve the mystery and win the binoculars?
Excerpt :
I spied the woman in the purple cowboy hat a second too late. With an un-detective-like squeak I backed away from her shopping cart, tripped on my shoelace, and sprawled next to a shelf of diapers.
The woman’s cart crashed into my leg.
“Ouch!” I scowled up from among the Pampers. Worse than hurting me, she’d also shattered my favorite daydream. The one where I—eleven-year-old Super Sleuth Celeste—handcuffed a burglar in the Oval Office and got a plaque from President Reagan.
“Sorry,” Purple Hat muttered, eyes squinty under her hat brim.
I rubbed at the smear her cart had left on my ankle and zeroed in on her shirt. Lavender with a creepy black skull. Mom would probably tell me to quit imagining things, but this woman looked suspicious. And annoyed.
But why? All I did was stand there while she ran me over.
Purple Hat steered her cart away while I scrambled to my feet and straightened my dress. Her heels tapped as she left. She sure was in a hurry.
With a glance to where Mom flipped through a rack of baby items, I took silent steps after Purple Hat, braids swinging against my shoulders. Why, oh why hadn’t I worn my gray dress so I could blend into the dingy Kmart floor tiles? My red plaid practically screamed Look at me!
When I squeezed past my little sisters, my sleeve caught on a toddler-sized toilet ring jutting into the aisle. I tugged and the ring fell with a clatter. The woman glanced my way, then picked up speed.
Super suspicious! My detective senses went on high alert.
The woman’s cart crashed into my leg.
“Ouch!” I scowled up from among the Pampers. Worse than hurting me, she’d also shattered my favorite daydream. The one where I—eleven-year-old Super Sleuth Celeste—handcuffed a burglar in the Oval Office and got a plaque from President Reagan.
“Sorry,” Purple Hat muttered, eyes squinty under her hat brim.
I rubbed at the smear her cart had left on my ankle and zeroed in on her shirt. Lavender with a creepy black skull. Mom would probably tell me to quit imagining things, but this woman looked suspicious. And annoyed.
But why? All I did was stand there while she ran me over.
Purple Hat steered her cart away while I scrambled to my feet and straightened my dress. Her heels tapped as she left. She sure was in a hurry.
With a glance to where Mom flipped through a rack of baby items, I took silent steps after Purple Hat, braids swinging against my shoulders. Why, oh why hadn’t I worn my gray dress so I could blend into the dingy Kmart floor tiles? My red plaid practically screamed Look at me!
When I squeezed past my little sisters, my sleeve caught on a toddler-sized toilet ring jutting into the aisle. I tugged and the ring fell with a clatter. The woman glanced my way, then picked up speed.
Super suspicious! My detective senses went on high alert.
Photo by Katie Troyer, courtesy of http://pinecraftsarasota.home.blog