Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Angela Johnson has won three Coretta Scott King Awards, one each for her novels The First Part Last, Heaven, and Toning the Sweep. The First Part Last was also the recipient of the Michael L. Printz Award. Her books for younger readers include the Coretta Scott King Honor Book When I Am Old with You, illustrated by David Soman; Wind Flyers and I Dream of Trains, both illustrated by Loren Long; and Lottie Paris Lives Here and its sequel, Lottie Paris and the Best Place, both illustrated by Scott M. Fischer. She is also the author of the picture books A Sweet Smell of Roses, Just Like Josh Gibson, The Day Ray Got Away, and All Different Now. In recognition of her outstanding talent, Angela was named a 2003 MacArthur Fellow. She lives in Kent, Ohio.

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A Cool Moonlight

Puffin Books

Chapter One

i will ask elizabeth and alyssa when i found outabout the glow-in-the-dark mushrooms. they'llknow that too.

i'd ask my friend david, but he knows aboutcomic books more than anything else. i don't thinkhe's ever mentioned mushrooms before.

elizabeth knows all the things that i need to knowabout the night. how to run in the night, find flowersin the night, and to listen in the night to everythingthat most people call quiet. it's real important tolisten 'cause the night isn't quiet. it's the loudest realtime in a twenty-four-hour day.

in the day there are no horns or people screamingor trucks' squealing brakes. all the real soundsget covered.

alyssa knows about people and the day. she likespeople who laugh and shout and shine real bright. butshe is nice about saying it's okay to live in the dark.

her voice is chirpy like a bird's when she talks. sheputs her hands on her hips and nods her head fast.

so i believe her. it's good to believe people. i always do. i tell people all the time that i believethem. alyssa says it's because i'm not nine yet like her.when i'm nine, i'll know better than to believe folks.i think how sad it's going to be in two months that iwon't believe anybody anymore.

but the two months will give me time. it will giveme time to do what i've been planning for so long.elizabeth and alyssa will keep the secret 'cause toomany people shouldn't know. it's better that way.

so i sit and wait for them against the fence gate. ifit's like all the nights before this one, alyssa willcome under the fence first, then elizabeth.

sometimes elizabeth will be in a tutu and sun hatand her yellow rain boots, smiling and quiet.

alyssa will be in a cape covering a long cotton slipthat's too big for her and new white canvas tennisshoes, jumping and laughing.

she always wears the shoes and they're alwayswhite. and even though i have my dark sunglasseson in the night, her shoes always glow like themushrooms. they almost look alive, like they couldwalk right off her feet and run around the backyardall by themselves.

* * *

i have to cover up. clothes, clothes, clothes.

the night is good to me. the sunlight hurts. it hassince the day i was born. even some light that isn'tthe real sun can hurt me, like the light from a jukebox.just cover up all the time. mama feels betterif i do.

it's 'cause of my chromosomes. they can't protectme from the sun. i could be burnt and even goblind if the sun gets to me. all our windows keep the sun out, though. my sister, monk, says we are shadow people andproud of it.

the rule is only wait a while. but a while doesn't havea real time limit like five minutes or eight minutes,so a while is as long as i feel like waiting, i guess.

once, a while was almost when the sun was comingup. elizabeth and alyssa shimmied under thefence, and when they got close, i saw their faces werecovered with chocolate and cookie crumbs. alyssa'scape was torn and she started telling me a storyabout bank robbers who would give them a milliondollars if they climbed a mountain for it.

elizabeth giggled and said it was true. she'd losther sun hat when they met bigfoot near the top ofthe mountain.

a few minutes later, though, mama came out andsaid that the light was coming and it was time for meto go in.

mama stood looking at us with her hands on herhips for a long time. she kept on looking at elizabethand alyssa way after i went through the kitchen door.she stared at them out the uv-blocking tinted windowsof the kitchen.

then mama did something that made me jump.she went over, real close to alyssa, and looked at her.i thought alyssa would run away, but she stood therelike she didn't even see mama. smiling.

elizabeth crossed her arms real tight and backedagainst the fence. i guess some mountain-climbing girls are careful.

the last i saw of them for a couple of nights wasalyssa's white tennis shoes disappearing under thefence. but in the coming morning light, they'd losttheir glow.

Chapter Two

he has to be fast 'cause i am. i am the best grocery cart racer there ever was. atleast i'm the best in the store right now. i rest wheni get to the end of the aisles, but take the turns sofast i'm almost invisible.

dad is calling me. "lila?" i holler to him from two rows away. "what do youwant? i'm racing." "lila?"

it's funny, us calling to each other from a longway away. dad's voice is real loud and echoes in thestore.

"what?" i say again, and start putting three packagesof cookies underneath the broccoli, bananas,and onions. sometimes dad doesn't know that hewants good things like cookies and candy. sometimesi just have to help him out.

now he's walking toward me with his own cart.

"baby, i need you not to scream in the store." "but you were screaming to me, dad."

he looks at me, smiles, and shakes his head atthe cart. first i think he's noticed all the chocolatecookies i hid, but he hasn't. he looks down at mycart and kicks one of the wheels.

"pretty good tires, kid. she looks like a goodracer. you run her much?"

my dad is tall and skinny and always wears stripedshirts. his eyes are brown and he has a bald head. iwatch him shave it sometimes. it makes me laugh.it used to make monk laugh too, but she doesn'twatch him anymore.

i guess she thinks it's babyish to watch dad shavenow.

but that's okay. i watch her too. i watch the wayshe puckers her lips when she starts to put on lipstick.i watch the way she sprays perfume on herselfbefore she goes out for the night.

sometimes she's better than the movies.

and sometimes watching my mama is even betterthan watching dad or monk. mama takes longer.she says it's because she wants to look like she's notwearing any makeup at all.

i don't understand that. but i guess i don't understand a lot. a minute later dad and me are in a race. we rolldown the frozen food aisle, around the vegetablebins, then knock over toilet paper and napkinswhen we wreck in the paper lane. dad isn't as good as me 'cause he's too tall. hecan't bend down and move like he's part of themetal cart. he's not bad, though, and almost beatsme to the soap aisle.

i like shopping at night. nobody but us and a ladyin a nurse's uniform are in the aisles right now. it'stwo in the morning and dad doesn't go to workuntil four-thirty in the day. he says he's kind of like me. he sleeps in themorning and hardly sees the sun. i don't think hemisses the daylight that much, though, 'cause besidesme he's the best middle-of-the-night grocery cartracer there ever was.

when we get up to the counter, the nurse is infront of us. she smells like peppermint. i wonderif she works with my eye doctor. his office alwayssmells like peppermint. dad rolls out our groceries into the parking lotand loads them into the trunk. then he picks me upand puts me in the cart. we race around and aroundthe empty...