Anastasia Has the Answers Read Free

and sweaters, sometimes several on top of each other—Anastasia thought it the most glamorous way of dressing she had ever seen); and I love her personality (Ms. Willoughby was witty and cheerful and funny); and I love her name (Ms. Wilhelmina Willoughby).
    But I hate, hate, HATE her ropes.
    Anastasia had even tried to think of a way to sneak into the junior high school gym after dark, when no one was there, and to climb up and take down those six hateful ropes.
    But there was no way to do it. She couldn't climb them to begin with—that's why she hated them. So how could she climb up to take them down? Even if she could manage that,
she
would be left way up there perched in the rafters, about a million miles high.
    "Six lines, ladies!" Ms. Willoughby blew her whistle and the seventh-grade girls formed six lines. Anastasia stood miserably at the end of one, waiting.
    "
Phweet!
" The whistle blew, and six girls ran forward and climbed the ropes. Meredith was one, and she moved like a monkey all the way to the top and then back down again in no time.
    It must be because her parents are Danish, Anastasia thought gloomily.
    "
Phweet!
" Six more girls, squealing and giggling, climbed the ropes. Anastasia shuffled forward in line.
    "
Phweet!
" This time Sonya was one of them. Maybe it's
because
she's plump, Anastasia thought—she would never even have thought the word "fat" about one of her best friends—maybe plump people get better leverage or something.
    "
Phweet!
" Ms. Willoughby blew the whistle a final time, and Anastasia ran forward dutifully toward her enemy rope. She leaped and grabbed. Her grab was good and high because Anastasia was one of the tallest seventh graders. But her feet just dangled.
    She looked to either side. The other girls had all managed to wind their legs around the rope the way they were supposed to. Ms. Willoughby had shown them how at least a billion times. But Anastasia's feet dangled. When she tried to grab the rope with her feet and legs, it began to swing in circles.
    "Hold the rope for her, Sonya," Ms. Willoughby called, and Sonya ran forward and held the bottom of Anastasia's rope. But it didn't help. Her feet kicked in space and her arms ached. Around her, the other girls were already starting back down their ropes.
    "
Phweet!
" Everybody landed on the floor, including Anastasia, who hadn't gone anyplace at all, who had simply dangled in the air. She flushed in embarrassment.
    "Get the basketballs, girls!" Ms. Willoughby called. "Anastasia," she said more quietly, "come over here for a minute."
    Anastasia walked miserably over to Ms. Willoughby. She was looking at the floor. The other girls were all at the opposite end of the gym, shouting and thumping and bouncing the basketballs.
    "I can't do it," Anastasia said in a quavery voice. "I try, but I can't do it."
    Ms. Willoughby put her arm around her. "Don't feel bad," she said. "You always try hard. That's the important thing."
    "But everybody else can do it," Anastasia said. Embarrassed, she felt a warm tear slide down her cheek.
    "One of these days you'll amaze yourself. You'll leap up there and you'll just keep going, all the way to the ceiling."
    "You think so?" Anastasia asked, sniffling.
    "Sure I do. I
know
so. And you're great at basketball. How about being captain of one team this period?"
    "Okay," said Anastasia, beginning to feel a little better.
    Ms. Willoughby blew her whistle once again, and Anastasia followed her to the other end of the gym to form the teams.
    ***
    Sam was playing with Mrs. Stein when Anastasia got home from school. They had built a tower of blocks on the living room floor.
    "Hi, Sam," said Anastasia. "Hi, Gertrude."
    "Gertrustein and me are playing 'Bash the Castle,'" Sam explained. "Watch!" He ran to the other side of the room. "Ready, Gertrustein?" he called.
    "Ready!" Gertrude Stein called back, and she moved out of the way. Anastasia stood back, too. She had played "Bash the Castle" with Sam herself and