“Psychic or psycho?” Nick joked. “With Robyn, it would be hard to tell.”
“Psychic?” Mr. Kowalski said. Around us, the carnival carried on in a thrum of noise. Only the kids nearest us had heard Alyssa’s claim. “Alyssa, that’s ridiculous. Robyn is definitely not psychic.”
“I’m serious, Mr. K. She told my fortune, and within five minutes it came true. If she hadn’t warned me, I’d be dead by now!” Alyssa gestured dramatically.
“What did Robyn tell you?” Hailey asked.
Alyssa glanced back. Robyn had left her tent and hurried toward us, her colorful skirts swirling around her legs. “She told me…,” Alyssa answered, her voice shaking. She cleared her throat. “She told me to watch out for peanut-butter sandwiches!”
I stared at her. I wondered if I’d heard her correctly. “Huh?” I said.
“Peanut-butter sandwiches,” Alyssa said loudly. “And then I was walking past the cookie booth. The boy had run out of chocolate-chip, and he asked if I wanted to try his new kind. I nearly bought one! I can’t believe it!”
I shook my head, trying to understand Alyssa’s weird logic. “What does that have to do with anything?” I said.
“It was peanut butter—the sandwich kind with two cookies and peanut-butter icing in the middle,” Alyssa explained.
“So?” I said. By now, Robyn was listening.
“So I’m allergic to peanuts, you doof!” Alyssa yelled. Her patience was clearly at an end.
“Well, you never told us that,” I said. But suddenly everything made sense. That’s how Robyn’s warning had saved Alyssa’s life. A peanut allergy could be fatal, especially if it was severe.
I turned to Robyn. “Did you know she was allergic?”
Robyn shook her head. “No.”
“So how’d you come up with a prediction like that?”
“I…just made it up. You know, I just tried to come up with ridiculous stuff. I had no idea she was allergic to peanuts.”
“Well, you told me I was unlucky in jumping, and I just wiped out playing musical whoopee cushions. I nearly dislocated every bone in my body,” I said.
“Really?” Alyssa pounced on that. “That’s totally amazing! See, I told you Robyn was psychic!”
An excited buzz of conversation rose around us.
“No, I’m not,” Robyn protested. “Really!”
A grade-seven boy tugged on Robyn’s sleeve. “Can you tell me if I’ll make the Division One hockey team?”
“No, I can’t.” Robyn pulled her arm away. “I can’t answer questions like that.”
“She can only give readings about things that jump into her mind,” Alyssa said. “Isn’t that right, Robyn?”
“Yes. No! I can’t give readings at all. This is just supposed to be for fun. Like fortune cookies. Everyone knows that people can’t really tell the future,” Robyn said.
“Yeah? Then prove it,” challenged Alyssa. “Do some more fortunes, and we’ll see if they come true.”
Nick nudged Robyn’s elbow. “You could make a lot of money, Robyn. For the museum fundraiser.”
“Well…” Robyn wavered.
“No one’s really going to believe you can do it,” I said, but I doubted my own words. Kids were staring with wide-eyed faith at Robyn, like she really was magic or something.
But Mr. Kowalski interrupted, clapping his hands for attention. “Kids, it’s nearly time to clean up. I hope you’ve all had fun, but it’s time to visit the last booths you want to see and then return to your classrooms for dismissal. Robyn, if you don’t mind closing shop early, I have a couple of errands for you to do.”
The crowd around us shuffled away, disappointed. Robyn looked relieved.
“What do you need me to do, Mr. K.?” she asked.
“Mr. Joe brought some forms from the museum that we need to fill out for this fundraiser. Could you go get them, please? Joe, where are they?”
Mr. Joe looked up from where he was picking up whoopee cushions. “Sitting on my desk in your classroom. They’re the pink ones, Robyn.”
“Okay,” she said, walking toward the gym door. I followed her.
“You all right?” I asked her.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Robyn strode quickly down the hall, avoiding the stares of the other kids. Word was already spreading about Robyn’s predictions.
“Well, it’s kind of weird, don’t you think?” I said. “Two predictions coming true like that?”
“Coincidence,” Robyn answered firmly. “It was just luck.”
I dropped the subject and entered the classroom. Mr. Joe’s desk was an untidy table shoved into the back corner of the room. A small metal filing cabinet stood next to it. Everything was covered in layers of paper.
“He’s only been here a few days. How could he make such a huge mess in a few days?” Robyn said.
I shrugged. “My mother asks me the same thing about my room.”
“Do you see any pink forms?” asked Robyn. She gingerly moved aside a few sheaves of paper.
“There’s some under there,” I reached for some papers at the bottom of a stack near the corner of the table. As I tugged on them, the whole top of the stack cascaded over the filing cabinet and onto the floor.
“Trevor!” Robyn scolded.
“Sorry.” I bent to pick them up. A few papers had lodged into the half-open filingcabinet drawer. I opened the drawer to grab the papers. There were no files inside. Instead the papers rested on a black duffel bag. The zipper gaped open, and I could see clear plastic bags with what looked like old bones inside. One of the bags had a blue and white label stuck to it. It said Ichthy. butt.
I glanced at Robyn, puzzled. “Do you see that?” I asked.
She peered down. “Itchy butt? What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. But they look like fossils to me. Why would Mr. Joe have fossils hidden in here?”
Robyn shrugged. “He’s probably using them for teaching. I’ll bet the Tyrrell Museum let him borrow them.”
I leaned closer so I could see more clearly. The bags were filled with small chunks of what looked like brownish white oblong rocks. They were filmy with dust and smelled a bit like chalk. I noticed one of the labels had been ripped off, but the words were still legible.
I looked up at Robyn. “Oh yeah?” I told her. “Then why does that bag say Property of the University of South Dakota?”