The Space Mission Adventure
Rico looked at the object closely. “I think it’s made of metal, but I can’t really tell. It’s not rock, either—at least, I don’t think it is. Where did you find it, Ziggy?”
“I found it by the moonwalk simulator. I think it came from outer space!”
IT’S BACK TO THE FUTURE FOR the Black Dinosaurs as they head off to Space Camp! They can’t wait to find out how astronauts eat, sleep, and work in an actual spaceship.
Ziggy—along with Jerome, Rashawn, and Rico—soon learn all about life in space. They even get to launch their very own mini-rockets! It looks like real-life space travel is just as exciting as any alien can be!
But Ziggy is still hoping he can meet an alien along the way—just like the kind in his Mega Mighty Martian Blasters game! When he finds a mysterious shiny stone, could his wish to meet an alien actually come true?
SHARON M. DRAPER, author and professional educator, lives in Cincinnati, Ohio. In 1997 she was named National Teacher of the Year. She is active with the International Reading Association, the National Council of Teachers of English, the National Board for Professional Teaching Standards, and several other professional education organizations. Her books include Tears of a Tiger (winner of the John Steptoe Award for New Talent); Forged By Fire and Copper Sun (winners of the Coretta Scott King Award); the Coretta Scott King Honor Book The Battle of Jericho; as well as Out of My Mind, winner of the 2011 Josette Frank Award.
Jacket designed by Karina Granda
Author photograph by Anna Navarro McCall
Jacket illustration copyright © 2012 by Vanessa Brantley Newton
ALADDIN
Simon & Schuster, New York
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THE SPACE MISSION
ADVENTURE
Be sure to read all the
Clubhouse Mysteries!
The Buried Bones Mystery
Lost in the Tunnel of Time
Shadows of Caesar’s Creek
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
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This Aladdin hardcover edition March 2012 Text Copyright © 2006 by Sharon M. Draper Illustrations copyright © 2006 by Jesse Joshua Watson Originally published as the series title Ziggy and the Black Dinosaurs. All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. ALADDIN is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and related logo is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Also available in an Aladdin paperback edition.
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Designed by Karina Granda
The text of this book was set in Minion.
Library of Congress Control Number 2005037938
ISBN 978-1-4424-4225-2 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4424-4226-9 (pbk)
ISBN 978-1-4424-4259-7 (eBook)
This book is dedicated to
all young people who dream
of reaching the stars.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
The Backyard Animal Show
ZIGGY LOOKED UP AT THE NIGHT SKY IN AMAZEMENT. The weather had been clear and cold, and thousands of stars decorated the inky blackness of the night. “Awesome, mon,” Ziggy whispered to his friend Rico, who stood shivering beside him. “They look like shiny pieces of hard candy floating up there, don’t they?”
Rico stamped his feet and blew into his gloves. Even though he had on new, fur-lined boots and a down jacket, he felt chilled. “It’s cold out here, Ziggy. Let’s go look at the stars from inside your house.”
Ziggy stretched both his bare hands up to the sky. He wore no gloves, but he rarely took off his favorite hat, a fuzzy black, green, and yellow cap his mother had knit for him. “I feel like I could almost reach up there and pull a star out of the sky and bite it,” Ziggy said with a laugh. “Let’s go in, mon. You look like a chocolate Popsicle!”
The two friends hurried into the warmth of the house, where Ziggy’s mom had mugs of hot chocolate waiting for them. “Thanks, Mrs. Colwin,” Rico said as he sipped the warm drink. He was glad they weren’t having a meeting of their club, the Black Dinosaurs, in their backyard clubhouse tonight. Ziggy, even though he had been born in the tropical climate of Jamaica, seemed to love the winter weather of Cincinnati, Ohio. He had wanted to meet as they had done all summer, but the chilly winter winds had chased the boys inside.
The doorbell rang, and Ziggy jumped up to answer it. “What’s up, dudes?” Ziggy said in greeting to the other two members of the club, Rashawn and Jerome. “You want some hot chocolate?”
Rashawn, tall, thin, and always ready to go one-on-one at the basketball court, walked in wearing his favorite army boots and jacket. Jerome, shorter and stronger-looking, grinned at Ziggy, tossed off his leather jacket, and grabbed a mug of hot chocolate in each hand.
“It’s really cold out there!” Jerome exclaimed as he sipped first from one mug, then the other.
“How you figure you get two cups of cocoa?” Rashawn asked.
“I’m tougher than the rest of you, so I need double the fuel!” he replied with a grin.
Rashawn took the last mug of chocolate, impressed that Ziggy’s mom had known to make extra, and sipped it gratefully. “I just want to make sure I don’t get the cup with the pickle in it!” He glanced at Ziggy, who, as usual, was stirring his chocolate with a thick green pickle.
“Why do you do that, man?” Rico asked, shaking his head.
“The pickle makes it taste better, mon. Besides, we were out of ketchup!” The other boys groaned, but they were used to Ziggy’s strange food habits. The four of them had been friends since first grade.
“Did you bring your Space Camp stuff?” Rashawn asked the other boys.
“It’s right here in my backpack,” Rico answered, pulling out a folder of forms and instructions.
“This is going to be so cool!” Jerome and Ziggy pulled out their paperwork as well. “I can’t wait to get to Space Camp, mon,” Ziggy exclaimed as he sucked the chocolate off the pickle. “Wouldn’t it be awesome to go into space for real?”
“Yeah,” Jerome said. “I wonder what you have to do to be an astronaut.”
“I never thought about it,” Rashawn said. “But I suppose there’s lots of training.”
“You gotta learn how to read the instruments and fly the space shuttle,” Rico offered. “And know what to do if you have to walk in space and fix something on the outside of the shuttle.”
“I figure you need to practice what it feels like to be weightless so you don’t throw up, mon!” Ziggy added.
“When we get to Space Camp, you practice that one by yourself—okay, Ziggy?” Jerome laughed, held his nose, and moved to a chair away from Ziggy.
“Let’s go over this stuff, so the Black Dinosaurs Space Team is ready,” Rico said. “I can’t believe my dad is taking us all the way to Huntsville, Alabama, for the weekend. I
hope it’s warmer there than it is here in Ohio!”
“Your dad is the bomb, mon,” Ziggy exclaimed. “I know you only see him on vacations and stuff, but that is so cool that he’s a pilot in the air force.”
“Yeah, my dad really is all right,” Rico replied. “He took me up in a jet last year on my birthday.”
“Awesome!” Jerome said.
“Did you throw up?” Ziggy asked.
“Of course not! You focus on the strangest things, Ziggy.” Rico shook his head.
“How long will it take to get there?” Rashawn asked.
“My dad says about seven hours by car. We go from Cincinnati, through Louisville, Kentucky, and Nashville, Tennessee, all the way down to Huntsville. But that’s not counting stops at fast-food places or to see cool stuff,” Rico told him.
“You think we can find our hometown chili dogs in Alabama?” Jerome asked. “Cincinnati makes the best chili in the world.”
“You know, every city thinks its chili is the best,” Rico replied with a grin.
“It’s even better if you put jelly on your chili dogs, mon,” Ziggy said cheerfully. “Gives them that extra-sweet flavor!”
“Yuck!” Jerome, Rashawn, and Rico all threw sofa pillows at Ziggy, who dodged them easily.
“So, what do we take with us besides bug spray?” Jerome asked as he glanced at the stacks of papers that Rico was handing each of them.
“There are no bugs in space, mon!” Ziggy said with authority, holding two of the sofa pillows on his lap.
“Yeah, but I bet there are plenty in Huntsville!” Jerome replied. “I take no chances, my man!”
“Let’s see,” Rico said, reading from the top page of the instructions. “Toothbrush and stuff, pajamas, socks, deodorant . . .”
“Don’t forget that!” Rashawn said with a laugh.
“It also says not to bring portable music players or handheld video games,” Rico continued.
“Not even my Mega Mighty Martian Blasters game?” Ziggy asked with dismay. “How will we practice dealing with invading Martian spacemen without that game?”
“Maybe we’ll get real information instead of pretend video-game stuff,” Rico replied sensibly.
“You mean it’s not real? There aren’t any Martians out there ready to attack Earth, mon?” Ziggy rolled off his chair and onto the floor, making zapping sounds like a space weapon.
“Probably not, Ziggy,” Jerome told him. “But maybe you can ask somebody about it when we get there.”
“If there’s even just a possibility that Martian invaders might be real, I want to be ready, just in case. Martians are purple, have three heads, and spit fire, you know, unless they’re in disguise. They can make themselves look like anything they want—a cat, a dog, even an Earthling.”
“How do you know this?” Rashawn asked him.
Ziggy looked at him with surprise. “Because I’ve played the game a million times, mon!”
Rico laughed. “What else did you learn from that game, Ziggy?”
“Martians live in trees and eat rocks, mostly. But they have a special fondness for chocolate-covered pickles, just like I do, so they can’t be all bad!”
“I bet the folks at Space Camp don’t know any of this,” Jerome told Ziggy.
“Well, I’ll be sure to tell them! I guess the future of the planet is going to depend on me, mon,” Ziggy said. “I can’t wait to get to Space Camp!”
ONE WEEK LATER, ON A FROSTY, COOL MORNING, THE four friends loaded their bags into the back of Rico’s dad’s big SUV.
“It’s so early, the birds aren’t even up!” Jerome said as he tossed his sleeping bag into the truck.
“I like the morning, mon! It’s like the day smells fresh and new—ready for adventures!” Ziggy twirled around in Rico’s driveway, excitement showing on his face.
“I think that’s your mom’s sweet rolls you smell, Ziggy,” Rico told him. “Nothing better than hot cinnamon rolls on a chilly morning.”
“You’re right. My mum was up hours ago making these for our trip. They’re still warm.”
“Are you gonna do something weird, like put ketchup on them or something?” Rashawn asked, wrinkling his nose as he climbed into the SUV with Jerome and Rico.
“Not my mum’s sweet rolls, mon! Be sensible!” Ziggy climbed in the back row of seats with the others and gave everyone a roll even before they got to the end of the street. He made sure Rico’s dad had two. “Must keep the driver happy, mon!”
Mr. Roman thanked Ziggy and drove smoothly down Interstate 75 for several hours. The boys dozed until he stopped at a gas station near Jellico, Tennessee.
“Would you look at that?” Rashawn said as he climbed out of the car and stretched.
“Wow!” Jerome echoed.
“That’s the biggest dinosaur and Ferris wheel I’ve ever seen, mon!” Ziggy said with awe. “And look at that rocket ship!”
Mr. Roman chuckled. “I think they designed this place so kids could stretch their legs and stretch the wallets of grown-ups as well.”
“Now that’s a dinosaur worthy of the Black Dinosaurs club,” Rico said as they walked around the huge green model.
Mr. Roman snapped a photo of the boys as they mugged with the dinosaur.
“The dinosaur looks fake,” Rashawn commented as the boys crammed close to see the result, “but we sure look good.”
“I’m going to gas up the car. You guys look around a bit, and we’ll leave after we eat,” Mr. Roman said.
“That rocket looks pretty realistic,” Jerome said. “Do you think it can really fly?”
“Naw, it’s just a model like the dinosaur. I want to see the real stuff. I wonder what they’ll have at Space Camp,” Rico mused.
“Maybe that’s where the Martian invaders will be hiding,” Ziggy said as he patted the rocket ship. “Maybe disguised as dinosaurs like that one.”
“You’re always talking about Martians, Ziggy,” Rashawn said with a sigh. “If you’re so sure they exist, why haven’t you ever seen one?”
“I don’t know, mon! Maybe I have. I told you they use different disguises.” Ziggy looked around, pretending to search for hidden aliens.
“Well, the Ferris wheel over there—maybe the one they flew in on—seems to be broken, so let’s go inside and get something to eat. I’m starved,” Rico said.
For four hours, the boys played a marathon state license plate bingo game, a noisy and confusing version of I Spy, and sang every camp song they’d ever learned. Finally, the boys looked excitedly out the window at their first glimpse of the U.S. Space and Rocket Center in Huntsville. Black and white rockets of various sizes stretched majestically into the sky as if waiting to be launched. Mr. Roman looked relieved as they pulled into the lot.
“Wow! And you thought that play rocket in Jellico was cool. Look at all those space vehicles!” Rashawn gaped with wonder. Standing several hundred feet tall, the largest rocket, painted with huge black and white rectangles, loomed boldly before them.
“Is that real, Dad?” Rico asked.
“Yes, son. That’s the Saturn Five—the real thing. It was the largest operational launch vehicle ever produced. It’s more than 363 feet high. If you could stand a football field on its end, the rocket would be taller. That’s the kind of rocket that goes to the moon.”
“To the moon,” Ziggy repeated, his voice full of awe. “Wouldn’t it be cool to walk on the moon you see up in the sky every night?”
The other boys nodded in agreement. “The rest of the rockets and rocket boosters and shuttle orbiters you see are real as well,” Mr. Roman continued. “Some of them are models that were used for planning and practice, and some have actually flown in space.”
“Hey, it’s not cold here—must be at least seventy degrees,” Jerome said as he took off his heavy jacket.
“Thanks for driving us, Mr. Roman,” Rashawn said, helping him unload the bags. “I know we can be a pain in the butt sometimes.”
Rico’s fath
er smiled. “I was a kid once, Rashawn. I’m glad the four of you are such good friends. I just wish we’d had something as cool as Space Camp when I was your age.” He looked around at the towering rockets with almost as much awe as the boys.
Ziggy, for once, was speechless. He gazed at the rockets and jets and space equipment that decorated what was called Rocket Park and just stared silently, a look of wonder on his face. “Awesome, mon,” he whispered.
A Space Camp representative came to meet them as they headed to the registration area. A red, white, and blue sign read WELCOME TO U.S. SPACE CAMP AND U.S. SPACE AND ROCKET CENTER—THROUGH THESE DOORS ENTER AMERICA’S FUTURE ASTRONAUTS, SCIENTISTS, AND ENGINEERS.
“That’s me, mon!” Ziggy said, swaggering a little. “Space soldier in training!”
“My name is Stanley,” a young man in a navy blue Space Center T-shirt greeted them, shaking first each boy’s hand, then Mr. Roman’s. “Welcome to Space Camp!” He checked his list. “The four of you are here for Pathfinder Camp, right?”
“That means we get to do a mission, doesn’t it?” Rashawn asked.
“Sure does,” Stanley replied.
“A mission?” Ziggy asked. “What does that mean?”
“Your counselor, Samantha, will explain it all. Every camper is assigned to a group that has a cool name—the four of you have been assigned to Team America.”
“Awesome,” Rico whispered.
“You gonna tell us how to prepare for a Martian invasion?” Ziggy asked.
Stanley laughed. “I bet you can get to the ninety-ninth level on Mega Mighty Martian Blasters, can’t you?”
Ziggy’s eyes grew wide. “How’d you know, mon?”
“I know my way around the galaxy,” Stanley replied with a wink. “I’m not sure if we’ll have time this weekend to get to Martians, but I guarantee you’ll go home with more information about space than you ever dreamed of,” he assured Ziggy. “Let’s get you guys signed in.”