“I don’t know. Why?”

“We need snacks for the first club meeting,

and now it’s just two days away.

If it’s a club for saving the Guernsey language,

we should be serving Guernsey snacks,

don’t you think?”

“Well, since Guernésiais is sort of like French,

maybe Guernsey snacks are sort of like French snacks?”

On the computer we look for more

information about Guernsey,

since we just looked for beautiful photos last time.

We learn that the people there

who don’t speak Guernésiais

speak English, not French.

“So, maybe English food?” I suggest.

“Like English muffins?”

“People who come to a club to save Guernésiais

don’t want to eat English muffins!”

Lizard is almost certainly right about that.

We find out that Guernsey is most famous for its…cows!

“We could have cheese,” I say.

“Ooh!” Lizard licks her lips.

“Like that yummy cheese that comes

in those little foil triangles.

Laughing Cow!”

The name Laughing Cow

makes both of us laugh.

“We can borrow some of my mom’s cow things,”

Lizard continues.

Lizard’s mom collects anything with a cow on it:

cow potholders,

and cow dishtowels,

and cow tablecloths,

and cow salt-and-pepper shakers,

and cow mugs,

and little cheese spreaders

with cows on the handles.

Our club is going to have

the best snacks and best decorations

of any club at Southern Peaks,

plus helping to save a dying language,

which is more than the

Chess Club

or Manga Club

can say.

More Things I Learn about Zoey

At Tuesday’s rehearsal

I find out she’s an only child, like me.

“My parents wanted more kids,” Zoey says.

“Like lots and lots of kids.

But that didn’t work out

and all they ended up with was me.

Sometimes it feels—you know?—

like a lot of pressure,

to be me,

but also like I have to make it up to them

for the other kids

they didn’t get to have.”

It occurs to me that I don’t know

why I never had any sisters or brothers.

I guess it’s because even one kid

is a lot for someone who is trying to study

as many dying languages as my mother.

Maybe things would be easier for my mom

if she had no kids at all.

But I don’t say this to Zoey.

I don’t even want to say it to myself.

Then Zoey tells me she hates scary movies,

and I say, “I hate scary movies, too!”

Then I tell Zoey that I’m afraid of worms,

and she says she loves worms,

and even had a pet worm once

named Wormy Squirmy,

until one day he squirmed away.

Then we’re laughing so hard

that we don’t even hear Mr. Delgado

call out, “Flowers! Up on stage!”

And he has to say it again:

“Flowers! Calling all flowers!”

The Queen of Hearts

Zoey and I may talk and talk