"A laugh-out-loud tour de force." --Kirkus, starred review
Ever wish you had a way to magically solve all of your problems? The kids at Hopewell Elementary School might have exactly what you're searching for--just walk down the hall and stop at Locker 37. This highly illustrated series is a fun and accessible read, perfect for reluctant readers looking for a little magic!
In the first book of the Locker 37 series, Carson Cooper realizes that he has a very inconveniently located stain on his pants. That is NOT the way to start things off on the first day of school. Fortunately, Carson finds a letter written by last year's fourth graders stuck to the bottom of his desk with some watermelon bubble gum. The note explains the existence of Locker 37, which will provide a solution to any problem! And when Carson sneaks off to the locker it does, indeed, provide a solution--an eraser! But the problem is that the eraser works a little too well, erasing anything it's rubbed against three times. ANYTHING.
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Aaron Starmer was born in northern California and raised in the suburbs of Syracuse, New York. Before pursuing writing full-time, he worked in New York City for over ten years as an editor for a travel bookseller and as an operations director for an African safari company. His middle grade and young adult novels have been translated into multiple languages and have appeared on best of the year lists from Time magazine, the Wall Street Journal, New York Public Library, YALSA, Bank Street College of Education, Chicago Public Library, and School Library Journal. His latest novel, Spontaneous, is in development as a film. He lives in Vermont with his wife and two daughters.
Chapter One
Hopewell Elementary
Before the first day of fourth grade, Carson Cooper thought Hopewell Elementary was exactly like any other school. It had classrooms for math, art, and science. It had a cafetorium, which was a cafeteria during the day and an auditorium at night. It had a gym with a climbing rope and something called a pommel horse in it.
(A pommel horse is exactly like a regular horse—that is, if the regular horse only has two legs and doesn’t have hair, or a neck, or a head, but instead has handles on its back and stands entirely still so that gymnasts can jump on it.)
In the front of Hopewell Elementary, near the stone steps leading up to the entrance, there was a big NO SKATEBOARDING! sign that was often ignored. Behind the school, there was a dumpster, full of things best left unseen and unsmelled.
From September through June, Hopewell Elementary was full of students and teachers, who were mostly nice, most of the time. Carson didn’t love going there, but he’d been going there since kindergarten, so he was used to it. And he was used to thinking it was an entirely normal place.
It was not an entirely normal place.
In fact, Hopewell Elementary was the strangest, most amazing place in the universe. And that’s saying a lot. The universe had pulsars, black holes, and indoor water parks in it.
Those places were nothing compared to Hopewell Elementary. Hopewell Elementary had Locker 37 in it.
Locker 37 made all the difference.
Chapter Two
Locker 37
Locker 37 was at the east end of the school, past the music room, in a dimly lit corner near a janitor closet full of toilet paper and laundry detergent. It was four feet tall, metal, and green. It had three slits in the door that worked as vents. It had a spinning combination lock with the numbers zero through forty-nine on it.
On the outside, it looked like all the other lockers. So there was never any reason to suspect it was different on the inside.
But, boy, was it different on the inside.
Every day it was different.
Anyone who knew the combination knew that.
And on the first day of every school year, one lucky fourth-grader (or unlucky fourth-grader, depending on how you look at it) would learn the combination.
Chapter Three
Mrs. Shen
“Welcome, friends, to the best year of your life,” Mrs. Shen said to Carson Cooper’s homeroom on the first day of fourth grade.
It didn’t seem like an exaggeration. According to just about everyone, Mrs. Shen was the school’s best teacher. She told jokes that were actually funny. She held trivia contests. She showed YouTube videos in class. Having her as homeroom teacher guaranteed a good year. Being a fourth-grader made things even better.
Fourth-graders were the kings and queens of Hopewell Elementary. They were the oldest and wisest. They knew the school’s secrets. For instance:
Always buy school lunch on taco day, but never, ever, ever on fish stick day.
The bathroom in the basement of the school is known as the dungeon. Why? Because it looks like a dungeon, smells like a dungeon, and going to the bathroom in it is like a form of medieval torture. Avoid the Dungeon at all costs.
Locker 37 can do anything. And by anything, that means ANYTHING.
Carson learned this last secret right after Mrs. Shen told him this would be the best year of his life. That was when his knee brushed against something. Reaching down, he found a folded piece of paper stuck with a wad of chewing gum to the bottom of his desk.
He peeled the paper off. He sniffed the gum.
Watermelon.
Then he unfolded the paper.
It was a note.
Chapter Four
The Note
Dear Fourth-Grader,
Congratulations on finding this incredibly important note!
You are now the keeper of the combination to Locker 37. Locker 37 has helped fourth-graders at Hopewell Elementary for decades. We know it will help you, too.
If you or another fourth-grader has a problem (any problem!), open Locker 37 and the locker will provide a solution. It won’t always be the solution you want, or expect, but it is guaranteed
to work.
Only fourth-graders know about Locker 37.
So feel free to tell all your friends in fourth grade about it. It’s encouraged!
But don’t tell anyone younger. And don’t ask anyone older for advice. Everyone who finishes fourth grade immediately forgets about Locker 37. You will, too.
In the meantime, have fun. And best of luck!
Sincerely,
Last year’s fourth-graders
P.S. We almost forgot to give you the combination! It’s 43-12-29.
P.P.S. Oh yeah, and Locker 37 can do anything. And by anything, we mean ANYTHING! No big deal.
P.P.P.S. Your life is about to get bonkers. Extremely bonkers.
P.P.P.P.S. Feel free to chew the gum.
Chapter Five
The Stain
Carson had a problem.
Actually, he had a few problems.
He had forgotten to bring his lunch, so he would have to buy lunch. And it was fish stick day.
He didn’t understand how to multiply fractions. He had passed third grade, which meant he was supposed to understand how to multiply fractions. But he still didn’t understand how to multiply fractions.
He was sort of tempted to chew that watermelon gum. Yes, he knew it was gross, but watermelon was his absolute favorite flavor.
Forget those problems, though. Because he had one problem that was bigger than all the others combined.
Carson had a stain on his pants.
It might not sound like much to worry about, until you realize where the stain was. It was in a place on Carson’s pants where nobody ever wants to see a stain. Ever.
No, not his thigh, or his shin, or the back of his knee. You know exactly where it was.
Now do you get it?
Carson noticed the stain as soon as he slipped the mysterious note about Locker 37 into his pants pocket. The stain wasn’t there when he got dressed in the morning, so he wondered how it could have found its way onto his pants.
Did he sit on something wet while riding the bus?
Did he bump into something gross in the hall?
Did he rub against something nasty on the bottom of his desk? Watermelon gum, for instance?
Ultimately, it didn’t matter where the stain came from. All that mattered was that it was there. It was big, and dark, and splotchy. It made Carson want to scream out loud.
Mrs. Shen was still talking, so Carson held the scream in.
“I’d like to introduce our class mascots. Meet Finn and Gill,” she said as she pointed to a pair of goldfish swimming in a bowl on a table in the back next to the radiator. “Would anyone in class be interested in feeding them every day?”
A hand shot up and a voice called out, “I think I’ve shown how responsible I can be, as a founding member and president of the Junior Janitor Club. So I should be in charge of the fishies.”
“Fair enough,” Mrs. Shen said. “And what’s your name?”
“Keisha James, ma’am.”
“Thank you, and nice to make your acquaintance, Keisha. Is anyone else interested in feeding the fishes?”
The question was met with silence. The...
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