Lists

In the book MVP*: Magellan Voyage Project, Adam Story enjoyed making lists. Here is a list of places Adam visited on the Internet and wished to visit in person.
1. Pyramids of Giza, Egypt (I want to climb the highest one)
2. Great Wall of China (I want to walk along the top)
3. Nile River (longest river on earth)
4. Amazon River (second-longest river on earth)
5. Grand Canyon (I want to hike to the bottom)
6. Mount Rushmore
7. Mount Everest, Nepal (highest mountain on earth)
8. The Matterhorn (the real one in Switzerland, not Disneyland)
9. Mount Fuji, Japan (looks cool)
10. White House, Washington, DC
11. Empire State Building, NYC (the movie King Kong is great!)
12. Petronas Towers, Malaysia (world’s tallest buildings)
13. Sears Tower, Chicago (world’s second-tallest building)
14. Taj Mahal, India
15. South Pole
16. North Pole
17. Yellowstone National Park (see Old Faithful erupt)
18. Masai Mara Game Reserve, Kenya
19. Machu Picchu, Peru (ancient city in Andes Mountains)
20. Eiffel Tower, Paris
21. Disney World, Disneyland Paris, Tokyo, and Hong Kong
(I’ve been to Disneyland, California)
22. Las Vegas (looks weird)
23. Venice, Italy
24. Jerusalem
25. Prime meridian, England (I want to stand on it)
26. The equator (I want to stand on it)
27. Niagara Falls, NY (looks cool)
28. Victoria Falls, Africa (world’s tallest waterfall)
29. Major League Baseball stadiums (I want to see every one)
30. The International Space Station (who knows?)

Classroom at the End of the Hall

Classroom at the End of the Hall

WT Melon Alphabet: Q

Q is for Queen Mumumu: Producer of the GVP team in the GGG: the Great Global Game. Queen Mumumu was a member of LORD the League of Royalty Without Domain because the island that her ancestors ruled sunk into the ocean. Read more about Queen Mumumu in the book MVP": Magellan Voyage Project.

2ndGraders #20

Synonyms and Antonyms

I know no synonym for synonym,
But I do know an antonym for antonym,
Synonym!

Two Pictures 3

WT Melon Classroom Observation 4:

"In every classroom there is always one student who collects pencils."

Two Pictures 2

WT Melon Classroom Observation 3:

"There are three kinds of teachers, the white board kind, the blackboard kind, and the kind who use overhead projectors."

A BEE SEAS

ANTA CLAUS OF ANTARCTICA XVll

“Once upon a time, or as you begin a story in the South, once under a time,” Santa said while applying a hankie to his nose.
Carol shifted closer to the man in bed. Her hand inched across the quilt until is touched his silky, white beard. How tempted she was to pull out one whisker for a souvenir.
Beside her, Mr. Anta Claus stuffed another gingerbread boy cookie into his mouth.
Santa Claus resumed his story. “The earth was young then, and I was as young as the earth. Papa Claus was the bearer of presents on Christmas Eve. But with so few people in the world back then, the job wasn’t as demanded as it is today. Our family had plenty of spare time to take great journeys in the sleigh to explore the planet.”
“Like what?” Carol interrupted.
“Ho! Ho! Once to the Sahara Desert to play in the sand and once to the Rocky Mountain to play on the rocks. One morning found us skating on the ice in Iceland and by evening, we were bathing in the beautiful balmy waters off Bali. We had races up and down the steppes of Russia and games of tag in the African jungle. Ho! Ho! I even recall one evening when we took a super-sonic journey across the Atlantic Ocean from seashore to seashore to watch a sunset and a sunrise all within the time a rooster could crow.”
“A neat trick! I’ve tried that myself,” said Anta.
“Indeed, life was grand back then,” continued Santa. Then his voice lowered. “Until we lost the baby.”
Carol gasped. “The baby?” she exclaimed. “Who said anything about a baby?”
“My baby brother,” Santa said solemnly.
“You mean you had a brother, Santa?” asked Carol. “In all the books I’ve read about you, Santa, not one mentioned a brother.”
“Ho! Ho! He was an odd little tot,” said Santa. “He always did things backwards. For example, instead of saying ‘Goo! Goo!’ He would say ‘Oog! Oog!’ He liked Brussels sprouts and hated candy. And most curious of all, when he crawled, he moved backwards as well... bottom-first.”
“Wow, I’ve heard of backward kids before, but nothing like this,” said Carol.
Santa sniffed and continued his story. “One evening we were flying home to the North Pole, after a day atop Mount Everest. The baby, in the back seat with me, was having such a fun time he cried. Yes, I remember the moment well. He was crying away one minute and the next he was gone. He must have crawled backward, right out of the sleigh.”
“I can’t believe it!” said Carol, although she knew Santa would never lie to her.
“I never saw my brother again,” said Santa. “But don’t fret, Carol. A Claus cannot perish. I know he is alive today somewhere on this earth. Perhaps he doing things backward at this very moment.”
“Then I’ll send out a search party at once!” said Carol. “I’ll find him, Santa. I spend the rest of my life searching everywhere there is.”
“Then it might help to know my brother’s name,” said Santa. “It was something like mine.”
Carol jolted. She had finally caught on. Beside her, Anta fidgeted.
“Anta?” she peeped. “Your brother’s name is Anta Claus? Could it be true, Mac? Is this some sort of bipolar disorder? Could you be related to Santa Claus? ”
Mr. Anta Claus scratched his beard. “Great bother, this,” he said. “I do remember falling and landing deep in a snow bank. That’s where the yaks found me. I lived with them all through my younger days. We traveled to the South Pole together. The trolls there helped me build my cottage. Things were going along fine until tonight. Yes, Santa Claus, it appears we might share some common blood. It appears we have been living on opposite ends of the earth, doing opposite jobs. But I’m not convinced yet which one of us is doing the job correctly.”
Again Carol looked at Santa and received a wink. After that, Santa raised another hankie to his nose. Achooey! He let out another hefty sneeze.

Two Pictures 1

ANTA CLAUS OF ANTARCTICA XVI

No one could doubt that the big man in the brass bed had a bad cold. His nose appeared three shades redder than usual. His eyes lacked the twinkle and his dimples were less than merry. Indeed, it was hard to believe that only hours ago Santa Claus had circled the entire globe and dropped down every chimney.
With a sniff, he greeted his two visitors. “Must have picked up this nasty cold on my rounds tonight. May have been around Tierra del Fuego. There’s a bad blizzard blowing down south.”
Carol stood as still as a penguin. She knew it was impolite to stare, but how could she help herself? She stood inches away from the famous white beard and the much-talked-about round belly. She checked to see if it shook when the man said, “Ho! Ho! Ho! Hello!” Yes, it did.
“Good to see you, Carol?” Santa went on. “How are things in Virginia?”
Carol nearly leaped from her slippers. “Me? You know me, Santa?” she stuttered. “You even know where I live?”
“Ho! Ho! I know every youngsters on my Nice Children List.”
“Oh, it’s true, Santa,” Carol insisted. “I’ve been especially good this year. I mean, I haven’t bugged my mother or pestered my father. And I’ve been practically an angel at school. I mean I did spit on the playground once. But besides that, I’ve been perfect.”
“Ho! Ho! Perfect?” Santa said. “You don’t think I saw you peeking out from behind the sofa tonight?”
Carol blushed down to her toes.
In the meantime, Mr. Anta Claus stood behind Carol with his hands on her shoulders.
“And you are Anta...Anta Claus,” Santa said to him. “My wife said you wish to speak to me.”
Anta cleared his throat. “Right, you see, sir, I live on the South Pole and I’m also in the Christmas business.”
“Ho! Ho!” went Santa, and to Carol’s surprise, he winked at her.
The girl nudged Anta in the ribs with her elbow. “You can’t fool Santa, silly,” she whispered. “He knows everything.”
Santa patted the mattress by his side. “Come sit down, both of you,” he said. “I wish to tell you a story. Perhaps it is a sad story to be telling on Christmas Eve. But I hope it has a happy ending.”
Carol sat on the edge of the bed, and straightened her pink nightie over her knees. Anta sat beside her.
After a sniffle, Santa Claus began his story like this...

2ndGraders #19

ANTA CLAUS OF ANTARCTICA XV

While Carol pranced back and forth in the snow, Anta surveyed the scene.
“Great bother, this, lads,” he whispered to his yaks. “The cottage and barn are familiar, but I hope I can bear all the Christmassy lights and garland that is hanging from them.”
Carol yanked on Anta’s sleeve. “Come on! Let’s go, Mac!” she cried. “Let’s go see Santa! Not a fake one, but the real thing! I’m going to ask him a million questions! Maybe he’ll give me his autograph!”
The girl practically dragged Mr. Anta Claus up to the front door of the cottage. Long, sparkling icicles reached from the roof to the ground. Jack Frost’s masterpieces covered every window.
On the tall wooden door hung three brass doorknockers, one high up marked: GROWNUPS; one lower down marked: CHILDREN, and the third near the ground marked: ELVES.
Anta and Carol grabbed their respective doorknockers and rapped on the door together.
“My door on the South Pole has similar knockers,” Anta pointed out. “Except for a low one there’s a high one near the roof marked: TROLLS.”
A short while later the door opened, casting a warm glow on the two callers. In the doorway stood a plump woman in a scarlet dress. Her hair was gray and tied back in a tight bun. Her cheeks were as round and red as a robin’s belly.
Carol took Anta’s hand and gripped it tightly. How often had she seen this woman’s picture in books or seen actresses pretending to be her in TV commercials? Now there she stood, in person, Mrs. Santa Claus.
Anta Claus shifted from one foot to the other and removed his black cap. “How do you do, madam?” he said. “My name is Anta...Anta Claus. And this is Carol.”
He nodded toward the girl in the red parka pressed against his leg. Carol held the bottom of her pink nightie and bent her knees slightly in a curtsey.
“We’ve traveled this far north to call on Santa Claus,” Anta continued. “I hear he lives on this pole. Might he be home yet? I wish to ask him some questions.”
Mrs. Claus crossed her hands across her broad belly. “Yes, Santa just arrived home,” she said. “But he has a bad cold and went straight to bed. Come in, both of you, and sit by the fire.
Anta and Carol stepped into the front hallway of the cottage. When Carol spotted Santa Claus’s famous red outfit hanging on a peg by the door, she ran her hand down one velvet sleeve.
Anta, however, examined the suit suspiciously. “Odd this,” he muttered. “Same tailor as mine.”
Shelves, all empty, lined the walls of the next room. Sprawled on the tables, benches and floor were dozens of lunchbox-size elves. The sound of their puttering snores filled the place.
“Look at all the dinky guys,” Anta whispered to Carol.
“Those are Santa’s helpers,” she explained. “They must be exhausted after making the Christmas toys.”
Mrs. Claus led her guests to the fireplace in which danced a snapping fire. “Please have a seat,” she said, motioning to a pair of rocking chairs. “I’ll go see if Santa is awake.”
After Mrs. Claus left, Anta sat in a rocker that he swore was his own. Carol sat in the other and rocked back and forth.
All at once, a bald elf burst into the room. He was balancing a tray of gingerbread boys on his upturned palm.
“Fantastic, isn’t it, Mac,” Carol chimed. “We’re sitting in Santa’s workshop, being served by Santa’s elf, waiting to see the great man himself. Boy, just wait until I tell the kids at school about this!”
Anta’s gaze circled the room. He could have wandered around it blindfolded. Apart from the wreath above the fireplace, it was a copy of his own workshop.
He reached for a gingerbread cookie and nibbled it. “Hmmm, mighty tasty, this,” he said, helping himself to three more. “My trolls have been crumbling up mountains of these cookie boys for years, and I never bother to taste one before.”
Soon Mrs. Claus returned. She looked curiously at Anta. “Did you say your name was Anta--Anta Claus?”
Anta brushed some cookie crumbs off his whiskers. “Indeed it is, madam. I’m Mr. Anta Claus of the South Pole.”
“Well, Santa is most eager to talk with you,” said the woman. And, turning toward Carol, she added, “And Santa would like to talk with you, too, dear.”
Anta and Carol exchanged glances. They both shrugged.

Winslow, the Wild Wheelchair Driver

Winslow whirred off in his wheelchair
When lowered from the bus.
He careened up the front door ramp,
And down the hall toward us.

We clapped and cheered as he came near.
Teachers yelled and scattered.
His chair rammed the janitor’s cart,
And ten light bulbs shattered.

He peeled off in his seat of steel.
Through the office he flew.
When he knocked the copy machine,
A thousand papers strew.

He popped a wheelie, twirling twice,
And rolled down twenty stairs.
He took a corner on two wheels,
And bowled down twenty chairs.

His wheelchair was a silver streak,
Speeding across the gym.
He struck the stage and ricocheted,
With teachers chasing him.

Winslow zoomed into his room.
Toward his desk he tore.
He yanked the brake so tires would make,
Skid marks across the floor.

Running is not allowed in school.
Now one more rule we need.
The next day signs hung in the hall:
10 MPH Maximum Speed.

2ndGraders #18

ANTA CLAUS OF ANTARCTICA XIV

No sooner had the sleigh resumed its northward course than something else caught Carol’s eye. Stretching across the sleigh’s flight path was a translucent curtain of light. The curtain, hanging from nowhere that was apparent, consisted of long colored streamers that shimmered and rippled, sometimes blue and red, sometimes yellow and green.
“The Aurora Borealis, Mac!” Carol announced.
“I beg your pardon?” replied Anta.
Carol pointed forward. “Those are the Northern Lights, silly,” she said.
“Right,” replied Anta. “We have the likes of those in the south, the Southern Lights. I’ve often encountered them on my rounds.”
“Aren’t they stupendous, Mac?” said Carol
“Splendid, indeed,” said Mr. Anta Claus.
“Mag...nificent! Rap...turous!” cried Carol.
“And we’re headed straight for them.”
“Terrr...ific! Innn...credible!”
“Get ready now, Carol,” said Anta. “You are in for a surprise.”
What did mean by this? Carol had no idea, until the sleigh approached the waving drapes of light. Her skin tingled. Ticklish bug-steps raced up her arms and legs.
“Yikes!” she giggled. “I feel like I’m covered with bubbles.”
At this same moment, her hair began to rise. Up, up it went until every strand stood on end.
“Look, Mac! Look at me!” she cried. “My hair’s gone wacky!”
Anta turned, smiling. Every hair on his head, beard and mustache included, stood straight up as well. Even the cotton ball on the tip of his hat pointed toward the stars.
The pair exploded with laughter.
Now as the Northern Lights drew near, the entire sleigh became charged with electricity. The sleigh’s rim and runners glowed. Snakes of current zipped down the reins in Anta’s hands. The backs of the colorful yaks appeared like sparklers on the Fourth of July.
Carol held out her bare hand. Sparks flickered between her fingers. Sparks shot off her nose and ears as well.
“Mac! Mac!” she cried. “Can we pass through that curtain safely?”
But no sooner had she said this than the curtain rose.
“Curtains up!” said Anta. He clapped his mittened hands as the sleigh glided neatly under it.
Carol curtsied as if on a Broadway stage. “It’s show time!” she cried.
Beyond the Northern Lights, the stars reappeared. And what stars there were! So plentiful did they fill they sky that the Milky Way was a creamy river of light, and each constellation--Orion, the hunter; Taurus, the bull; Cygnus, the swan--appeared not as a mere dot-to-dot pattern, but as a complete picture.
Tilting her head far back, Carol spotted the North Star. “When the North Star is straight overhead we will be at the North Pole,” she explained to Anta.
Anta looked up as well. “Then we will be there shortly,” he said.
Sure enough, a half-minute later the yaks yelped. Below them, the two travelers caught sight of something sticking out of the snow.
“Could it be?” Carol asked. “Is it what I think it is? No, it couldn’t be. Yes...yes it is! It’s a pole all right, the North Pole.”
The pole Carol referred to was a gray, weatherworn wooden post tilting at a bad angle. A limp windsock hung from its top.
“Right,” Anta said. “There’s a pole like that on my end of the earth. Whoa, lads! Whoa, I say! Take us to the bottom of that pole! We’ve reached the top of the world!”
When the sleigh landed, Anta and Carol found themselves in front of a small cottage.
At once, Carol leaped over the side of the sleigh and landed in the snow. “Can you believe your eyes, Mac?” she said. “That’s Santa’s house! And look, over there! I bet that’s the barn where Santa keeps his eight reindeer! Wait until I tell the kids at school about this!”
Mr. Anta Claus remained in the sleigh, studying the cottage. He scratched his black beard. How could that house, he wondered, way up here on the opposite end of the earth, resemble, no, look exactly like his own house?

Prince Apple

Have you ever wondered where the word principal comes from? The word for the the leader of your school comes from the name Prince Apple who was the leader of Apple Island during the time Bradley Zimmerman was there. Read more about Prince Apple in the book Apple Island, or the Truth About Teachers.

California Schools

Snow in the East said the weather reports,
But California kids are wearing shorts.

Radiators turned up high in our schools,
While California kids splash in playground pools.

For lunch we eat macaroni and cheese.
California kids pick fruit off school yard trees.

We learn math in stuffy and dark classes.
They sit on grass wearing dark sunglasses.

Warm water drips from our drinking fountains.
Their water comes bottled from the mountains.

For assemblies our teachers play guitars.
They meet Oscar-winning movie stars.

We receive reading, writing, and math grades.
They’re graded for skateboards and rollerblades.

We envy California kids all right.
But now we’ll go outside for a snowball fight.

Chalk-Dust Genie

Whack! Whack! Roger stood on the playground cleaning erasers by whacking them together. Each time he did so, a cloud of chalkdust would spout out. One time, whack!, a genie appeared in the chalk cloud and what are genies good for? He granted Roger three wishes! Read more about the Chalk Dust Genie in the book Classroom At the End of the Hall!

First line of NOE School (A book with no e's)

Not too long ago, in a small suburban town not far from San Francisco, California, Mr. Maximillian Ouia, principal of this town’s grammar school, Noe School, sat in a cushy chair in front of his staff of forty instructors, aids, and janitors.

Grand Playground

On Apple Island there is a playground miles wide and miles long. It's called the Grand Playground and it's where the teachers would play during freetime.

ANTA CLAUS OF ANTARCTICA XIII

Farther north the scene changed completely. One by one the lights that sprinkled upon the ground blinked out. Mysteriously, as the white pinpricks vanished so did the stars and moon, leaving everything around the sleigh in eerie blackness.
Carol gazed uneasily into the spooky, black walls surrounding her. Feeling chilly for the first time, she buttoned the top button of her parka and pulled the blanket up to her neck.
Ahead of her, Mr. Anta Claus appeared as a long, gangly shadow. The yaks were monstrous, gray shapes.
“I wonder if coming on this trip was such a bright idea after all, Mac,” Carol said.
Hoping for a glimpse of something familiar on earth, she leaned far over the side of the sleigh. Yes, there were things down there, jagged, white things. Like so many pieces of a mammoth jigsaw puzzle, they covered the vast, black sea.
“Icebergs,” Anta’s voice drifted back. “Lots of them float around the ocean where I live.”
“And if my atlas is correct, we are passing over the Arctic Ocean,” Carol added.
Mile after mile Carol’s gaze remained fixed on the sheets of ice. More than once she imagined seeing something moving across them. Later, when the sleigh dipped slightly, more and more of the solitary figures appeared. Through the gloom, she watched them lumber across the ice, slow, brawny, and as white as the ice itself.
“What are they, Mac?” she called out. “What’s down there?”
“Very curious, that,” Anta answered. “Each iceberg has a passenger. Haven’t a clue what they are. I say we head down and see what’s happening.”
In the next instant, the sleigh was gliding a few yards above sea level, a short hop down to the icebergs.
With a gulp, Carol realized what she had been watching. “Polar bears!” she whispered. “Hundreds of vicious, child-eating polar bears!”
“Colorless bears?” uttered Anta. “I never imagined such animals existed.
Soon the sleigh was passing over an enormous sheet of ice. Anta pulled on the reins and the sleigh circled the white island.
“Look, Carol,” Anta cried. “Every iceberg with a colorless bears on it is drifting toward the one big ice floe. It’s some big gathering. It’s some big celebration.”
Carol watched as several icebergs reached the ice island. Upon arrival, each polar bear bounded from his chunk of ice and lumbered off to join the others. White bears covered the ice sheet. Bears stood in small clusters and bears milled about in twos and threes. Other bears gathered by the water’s edge, lolling on their backs and bellies. One large brood of bears sat in the center of the ice swaying their burly heads side to side.
Carol leaned farther over the edge of the sleigh. “I bet every polar bear in the Arctic is down there tonight,” she said. “Something extremely important is going on, Mac. I bet we’re watching The Great Christmas Meeting of Bears!”
“Look, Carol,” Anta called back. “One of the colorless bears is waving at us.”
Carol shook her head. “Oh, no fierce child-eating polar bear would possibly do that,” she said. “I bet they are down there right now planning something rotten to play on the children who live in the Arctic Circle. That’s what polar bears do, you know.”
As the sleigh circled the island again, two large bears leaped off the ice floe and belly-flopped into the water.
“What do you say we land and introduce ourselves,” suggested Anta.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, Mac,” Carol warned. “Polar bears have been known to make a feast out of human beings, especially bite-size ones like me. Yes, I see some of them licking their chops right now.”
“Oh! Oh! Oh! Then we’d better be on our way,” said Anta with a chuckle. “Next stop, North Pole, lads!”
As the sleigh sped away, both Anta and Carol glanced back for a parting shot of the bears. Dozens more were still bounding off their icebergs to join the gathering.
“Yes, that’s what it is, all right,” said Carol. “The Great Christmas Meeting of Bears. And I’m the first child in the world to witness it.”
“See, Carol,” called Anta. “Some of the colorless beasts are smiling at us. Look, they are waving farewell.”
Sure enough, seated on the edge of the ice, dangling their big feet in the water and kicking up great splashes were three grinning polar bears. Each had his black nose in the air and one paw raised.
Carol shook her head again. “Smiling, did you say, Mac?” she said. “No, sirree. Polar bears never smiled. They are sneering at us, Mac. That’s what polar bears do, you know. And they are definitely not waving good-bye. Most likely those child-eating bears are snapping their fingers, because I got away.”

Swamp

After leaving Office Palace on Apple Island, Bradley enters the Great Swamp which is filled with stick clay and crabapple trees. Read more about the swamp in the book Apple Island of the Truth About Teachers.

Dotting I's and Crossing T's

Wonderful Ones.
Have you ever wondered why it's important to dot i's and cross t's. Recently I wrote the word United States in cursive. Try it. Without crossing the t's and dotting the i's it looks two completely different words. It's hard to tell what are u's and what are i's. If you're feeling creative, click here to see Forty-Nine Ways to dot eyes and cross i's. Create new ways of your own.

All the best, Walter Teach Melon

Great Escape

Bradely Zimmerman has released the great paint pots beneath Chalk Mountain on Apple Island. A great volcano spouts out the top of the mountain covering the island with colorful rain. Bradley now has to hurry up the Great Hallway with Mr. Bus Driver and his other friends before the rain reaches him, too. Read more about the Great Escape in the book Apple Island, or the Truth About Teachers.

Long School Weeks

Wonderful Ones,
Many students at WT Melon Elementary School call these weeks from mid-February to mid-March, the Long School Year Weeks. The fun of Valentines is over and spring break is still weeks away. It's too cold outside for many field trips and testing time is looming so teachers like to pile on the schoolwork. Spirts are still good down below in the classroom at the end of the hall. But I can tell the third-graders are already longing for spring.

All the best, Walter Teach Melon

Way The World Works Song

Here are the lyrics to the second song from Elevator Family Musical. It's sung by Mr. Brown while he's having lunch with the Wilsons in Otis the Elevator.
Way the World Works
(Mr. Brown)
C
Fads that we had, are keeping me,
G
Away from my wife, and family.
C
From one shelf to the next, I move constantly,
G Am C
But that’s the way the world works.

F
All the widgets and doodads, and gadgetry,
C
I load in the stores, for my company.
F
Yet each evening my sole, company is me,
C Dm F
But that’s the way the world works.

C
Someday I am hoping, that I will have found,
G
Some way to stop the globe, from going around,
C
To stay in one place, my own home ground.
G Am C
But that’s the way the world works.
G Am C
But that’s the way the world works.
G Am C
But that’s the way the world works.

ANTA CLAUS OF ANTARCTICA XII

In the meantime, the two travelers had forgotten their position. As it happened, the sleigh was presently soaring over the outskirts of a large metropolis. Roads and rows of bright lights made crisscrosses on the ground. Blocks of buildings appeared to be growing and growing. Each minute brought flat-roofed skyscrapers closer to the bottom of the sleigh.
Mr. Anta Claus was gnawing peacefully on a licorice stick, and Carol was stargazing, when all at once a tall shadow fell across them. The yaks yelped and swerved to the right. They yelped again and swerved to the left. The inside of the sleigh became a jumble of arms and legs.
Gaining his balance, Anta peered forward. The yaks were weaving through a maze of towering building. Down broad avenues they swooped. Around tall spires they careened. Through narrow alleys they zipped. Streetlights, windows, billboards, and neon signs flashed by in a blur.
Suddenly, dead ahead, two tremendous towers block their way. The skyscrapers loomed one hundred and ten stories above the pavement. There was no room to swerve right; there was no room to swerve left, and heading downward was suicide. The yaks, the sleigh, and its two tumbling passengers were about to meet the eightieth story of the building head-on.
Anta struggled to tug on the reins. “Oh! Oh! Ohhhhh!” he cried.
Carol wrapped her arms around Anta from behind. “Yikes!” she screamed.
“Up, lads! Up, I say!” Anta commanded. And like rockets, the yaks bolted for the stars.
Anta shut his eyes. “Hold on, Carol!” he said. “This is going to be close!”
Up! Up! Up! the sleigh shot. Up! Up! Up! By no more than a width of a yak’s tail it passed over the top edge of the building. In fact, to this day a blue tuft of wool off one yak’s belly still flutters from the gutter.
By the time Anta opened his eyes, the sleigh was flying level again. He blew out his cheeks and wiped his brow with the cotton ball at the tip of his hat.
“Great bother, that,” he sputtered. “Right, lads. I never imagined such tall building existed in this world. Strange things up north here. I must pay closer attention to my driving for now on.”
“According to my atlas,” Carol called from the back seat, “we just flew through the middle of New York City. For your information, Mac, that building you missed crashing into is called the World Trade Center.”
“Right,” said Anta. “There must be some mighty tall people in this New York City. Why else would they need such tall buildings?”
“Not exactly, Mac...” Carol began to explain, before Anta interrupted her.
“What did I tell you,” he said. “There’s one of the tall people now. See that lady standing on that little island over there. She’s gigantic. She’s rather pretty, too. Look, Carol, she’s waving an ice cream cone at us. Hello! Hello there, lady!”
“Stop, silly,” Carol said, giggling. “That’s not a real woman. That’s a statue. You’re flirting with the Statue of Liberty, Mac.”
We can only imagine what Mr. Anta Claus muttered right then as he slunk low in his seat.

2ndGraders #17