“I had just dropped Mr. K. off at his place. Mr. K. and his gallons of dirt. In a few weeks, when the first seeds sprouted, his one plant would have company. LOTS of company. Mr. K. turned stubborn when I asked about his building's rules. “They got rules on wall color, carpet, the number of pictures,” he grumbled. “But I never read one word about dirt.” Climbing the steps to my apartment building, I flexed my fingers. Those five paper cups were hard to hold. And a blister was starting to form. I...t better not mess with my blacktop action. After being Farmer -in-the-Dell all morning, I needed a b-ball game. But when I pushed open the door of our building … noise pushed back at me. Gaby and Ro were stomping round the lobby. Reuben screeched his marker on a big square of paper. Juana directed his writing. Uh-oh. Juana had that J-for-justice look in her eyes. And there was no basketball in sight. When they saw me, Gaby and Ro rushed over. “We're practicing!” they yelled. I glanced at the finished signs.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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