Project Mulberry Read Online Free PDF

for a visit and brought back frozen mulberries from her mom's tree and made a pie for us." He smiled. "
Great
pie."
    Sheesh. He was so out of it.
    "Well," Patrick said slowly, "that's good news in a way. I was afraid maybe they only grew in the tropics or the desert or somewhere like that. At least now we know they
can
grow here."
    "That's right," my mom said. "You need to ask around. Somebody in town might have a mulberry tree."
    "We could ask Mr. Maxwell," Patrick said, looking a little more hopeful. "Maybe he would know."
    "We won't see him for another week," I pointed out. "Not until the next Wiggle meeting."
    "Gak," Patrick said. "But wait—I have an idea. There's something else we can do in the meantime. Jules, come over here and help me."
    Â 
Ms. Park: There! A whole chapter where Kenny didn't bother you once.
Me: Well, of course. You're not one of those people who don't keep their promises, are you? I hate that. But I have to say, it was a pretty short chapter. I think that's sort of cheating —you didn't have to keep him away for very long.
Ms. Park: For heaven's sake, he lives with you, and it's not a very big apartment. You're bound to run Into him In most chapters.
Me: And another thing. You'd better give me plenty of time in the story to practice my embroidery.
Ms. Park: I refuse to promise that. It's your responsibility. You have to organize your schedule, get your homework and your chores done, and not dilly-dally around. You should have plenty of time to do embroidery if you plan your time efficiently.
Me: Sheesh. You sound like my mom. But as you keep telling me,
you're
the writer. If you write a dilly-dallying scene, what choice do I have? Like how you made me have a brother instead of a sister.
Ms. Park: It's not that simple. I'm not always in control.
Me: Ha! You mean /m the boss now? I get to decide everything?
Ms. Park: No, that's not what I meant. Neither of us is the boss. The story is the boss.
Me: How can the story be the boss?
Ms. Park: It's kind of hard to explain. Sometimes the story takes over, and I end up writing things I didn't expect. I think you'll understand later.
Me: I hate it when grownups say that.

5
    The next morning, Patrick and I left early for school. Patrick had the duct tape, and I carried the flyers.
    Â 
MULBERRY TREE NEEDED
Do you have a mulberry tree in your yard?
We need some leaves.
Please call Julia at 555-2139.
    Â 
    We got my mom's permission to use my phone number, because if anyone called Patrick's house when he wasn't home and one of the little kids answered, he'd never get the message. That was a possibility with the Snotbrain, too. But at least there was only one of him, and my mom usually answered the phone anyway.
    Last night, Patrick had typed in the information, then I'd designed the flyer, centering the text and using a nice font. If I had really wanted us to find a mulberry tree, I'd have thought the flyers were a great idea. So I was pretending to be all enthusiastic about them.
    I told Patrick the flyers were genius, and I really
did
think it was smart of him, but inside I was almost positive they wouldn't work. I had solid evidence that a mulberry tree would be practically impossible to find around here. And not just because of what my dad had said about that tree being in Wisconsin. I had other proof.
    When Patrick and I did our leaf project in fifth grade, we got more leaves than anyone else in the class. We went all around our neighborhood and to other parts of Plainfield, too. The assignment was to collect fifteen leaves, but we had twenty-seven, which gave us a ton of extra credit. Three kinds of maple (red, silver, Japanese); four kinds of oak (pin, white, red, bur); sycamore, locust, gum, willow, birch—I can't remember them all now, but there were a bunch of fruit trees. Apple, peach, pear, plum, and a friend of my mom's even had a quince tree.
    No mulberry.
    If there had been a mulberry tree nearby, Patrick and I would have found