Addison Addley and the Things That Aren't There Read Free Page A

that aren’t there,” he said happily. “You get it? Things that aren’t there, but they might be.”
    Tiffany stared at us with her eyes bulging out of her big head.
    â€œThings that aren’t there!” she snorted. Then she choked. Her shiny red face screwed up into a big question mark.
    Her friends giggled. “Look, Add,” she said. “We know you’re stupid, but this is stupid even for you. What do you mean, things that aren’t there?”
    I’d had enough. “Well, here’s a starter,” I said. “Things that aren’t there. Number one...your brain!”
    Tiffany’s face turned even redder. “Things that aren’t there,” she sputtered. “Number two...the favorite speech trophy. It’s sure not going to be there in your hands with such a stupid topic!” She stormed away.
    I’d forgotten about that trophy. If I had doubts about being able to come up with enough ideas for my speech topic, they were gone now. I decided that if Tiffany thought my topic was a bad idea, then it probably was a good one. I was going to win that trophy. I may not know a lot of things, but I sure know how to be stubborn.

Chapter Four
    On Monday at school, Miss Steane told us more about the speech trophy. It was donated by good old Mrs. Wilson, the Lamp’s mother. She was always getting her nose into school stuff. It wouldn’t be hard to do, because her nose was so big. No wonder Tiffany wanted to win that trophy so badly. She probably picked it out herself.
    â€œNow, this isn’t going to be a popularity contest,” Miss Steane explained firmly in her teacher voice. Miss Steane was great. Sometimes she used a normal human voice and sometimes a teacher voice. She was really talented. She always seemed to know what we were going to say even before we said it. I guess I’ve told her too many times that the dog ate my homework because bynow she knows I don’t even have a dog, and she won’t let me finish my excuse. I’ll have to come up with a different one, like the squirrels used my homework pages to build their nest. The best thing about Miss Steane was that she was fair. She didn’t treat the smart kids better than the rest of us. She’d only been teaching for a couple of years, but she was the best teacher we’d ever had.
    â€œPublic speaking is an art,” she explained. “Not only do we gain knowledge from the speaker, but, ideally, we’ll be entertained. After all, in the real world, if a speech or presentation to a company is boring, it’s not going to make an impact. We’re not going to make a sale or convince a board to vote for us.”
    I caught the last few words as I studied the eraser on my pencil. I wondered how many pieces I could chew off before it was even with the metal top. I like doing things like that. Experimenting with science and all. The world always needs new ideas. I like to help out. Once I even tried to invent my own paper shredder. I figured we had too many old bills lying around the house. Mom always cried when she looked at them. I taped a cheese grater onto the wheel of Mom’s exercise bike; then I made paper airplanes out of the bills andthrew them at the spokes while Sam pedalled. It sure clogged up the spokes of that old bike, but it didn’t work very well as a shredder. I’ll have to try that one again and have Sam pedal faster.
    â€œDid you hear what I said, Addison?” Miss Steane asked.
    â€œAh, sure, we have to convince the board to vote for us,” I said. Just like I’d have to somehow convince the astronomy club board to vote for Mom. She’d never be able to do it on her own. Maybe I could trick Mrs. Wilson into believing that Mom had been abducted by aliens once and that now she knew everything about life on other planets. I’d tell her that Mom could list all the space movies ever made. Heck, she could probably