Peeled

I'm always wondering, what crazy new way can I begin a story. Well, here we go...

DATELINE: Banesville, New York. May 3..

Bonnie Sue Bomgartner, Banesville's soon-to-be 67th Apple Blossom queen, let loose a stream of projectile vomiting in the high school cafeteria.

"It was the tuna fish," she gasped miserably, and proceeded upchuck again.

I wrote that down on my notepad as Darrell Jennings and I took a big step back.

The crowning of the queen was tomorrow at 10:00 AM in the Happy Apple Tent — a major moment in my small town of Banesville, an orchard-growing community in Upstate New York where apples are our livelihood and the core of our existence.

The nurse rushed in. Darrell, the editor of The Core, the high school paper where I worked as a reporter, said, "It's a cliffhanger, Hildy. The festival law says if the queen is sick and can't appear, the runner-up gets crowned."

"I didn't know that."

He pushed his glasses onto his head and grinned. "That's why I'm the editor."

I jabbed him in the arm for that comment. Darrell has been editing my copy for close to forever.

Bonnie Sue heaved again and the nurse mentioned something about food poisoning.

"My brother had food poisoning and it kept coming up all weekend," Darrell whispered ominously. "Stay on this, Hildy. This could be big. Bigger than big. I want the story behind the story."

He always said that.

Mrs. Perth, the festival coordinator who also worked in the school office, ran in: "She'll be fine, everyone."

Bonnie Sue looked close to apple green. I felt for her, honestly, even though she was the kind of gorgeous girl who acted like she was personally responsible for her looks.

Mrs. Perth handed Bonnie Sue a tub of lip gloss. Bonnie Sue glossed and stuck her head back in the bucket.

"Everything," Mrs. Perth said fiercely, "will be fine."

She shooed us out of the cafeteria, but not before she said to me, "Hildy, of course we don't want to mention this incident in our paper."

I looked at my notes. "Why not?"

"Hildy, the Apple Blossom Festival is about the hope of the harvest yet to come."

Banesville needed a good harvest. We were still reeling from two bad harvests in a row. This was a make-or-break year for the orchards.

"I understand about the hope, Mrs. Perth, but a queen with food poisoning is kind of interesting and—"

Mrs. Perth forced out a smile. "The Apple Blossom Queen is the symbol of unbridled joy and farm fresh produce." Her plump hand covered mine. "And we wouldn't want that symbol to be tarnished in any way. Would we?"

"But Bonnie Sue has food poisoning. That's the truth."

"The truth," she snarled, "is that we've had quite enough problems in Banesville! This festival is committed to being happy and positive from beginning to end!" Her eyes turned to slits. "You're just like your father, Hildy Biddle."

"Thank you," I said quietly. She shut the cafeteria door in my face.

From behind the door, I heard Bonnie Sue bellow, "I'm not giving up my crown! I earned it! It's mine!"

I wrote that down, too.

"Vintage Bauer, a warm and funny story full of likable, offbeat characters led by a strongly voiced, independently minded female protagonist on her way to genuine, well-earned maturity...A-peeling all around!" School Library Journal

"Hildy's crisp, declarative narration, subtly emulating a journalistic style, sings with tart humor and quixotic purpose." Horn Book

"A winsome entry into issues of journalistic free speech and the impact of sensationalism in the media..." School Library Journal-Curriculum Connections