Jessi's Secret Language by Ann M. Martin Read Free Book Online

friend.
    â€œWell,” said Mallory, “everyone’s playing in the backyard.”
    We walked through the Pikes’ house, waving to Mrs. Pike on the way, and stepped into the yard. It looked like a school playground.
    The Pikes and the Barretts all stopped what they were doing and ran to us.
    The introductions began.
    The signing began.
    The explaining began.
    The staring began.
    And Haley began to look angry again.
    I glanced at Mallory. “ Ick-en-spick ,” she whispered. And with that, a wonderful idea came to me. Mallory and I love to read, and not long ago we’d both read a really terrific book (even if it was a little old-fashioned) called The Secret Language , by Ursula Nordstrom. These two friends make up a secret language, and ick-en-spick is a word they use when something is silly or unnecessary.
    â€œYou know,” I said to the kids, “maybe Matt can’t hear or talk, but he knows a secret language . He can talk with his hands . He can say anything he wants and never make a sound.”
    â€œReally?” asked Margo (who’s seven) in a hushed voice.
    Mallory smiled at me knowingly. “Think how useful that would be,” she said to her brothers and sisters, “if, like, Mom and Dad punished you and said, ‘No talking for half an hour.’ You could talk and they’d never know it.”
    â€œYeah,” said Nicky slowly. “Awesome.”
    â€œHow do you do it?” asked Vanessa. “What’s the secret language?”
    This time, Haley jumped in with the answer.“It’s this,” she replied. She began demonstrating signs. The kids were fascinated.
    â€œSay something,” Claire, the youngest Pike, commanded Matt.
    â€œHe can’t hear you,” I reminded Claire.
    â€œ I’ll tell him what you said,” Haley told Claire importantly. She signed to Matt.
    Matt began waving his hands around so fast that all I could understand was that he was signing about football again.
    Haley translated. “Matt says he thinks the Patriots are going to win the Super Bowl this year. He says —”
    â€œNo way!” spoke up Buddy Barrett. Haley didn’t have to translate that. Matt could tell what Buddy meant by the way he was shaking his head.
    Matt began signing furiously again.
    â€œWhat’s he saying? What’s he saying?” the kids wanted to know.
    Mallory and I grinned at each other. We sat down on the low wall by the Pikes’ patio, relieved, and watched the kids.
    â€œYour brothers and sisters are great,” I said.
    â€œWhen you grow up in a family as big as mine,” Mallory replied, “you end up being pretty accepting.”
    â€œThank goodness.”
    After awhile I looked at my watch and realized that Mrs. Braddock would probably be back from the grocery store soon.
    â€œI better take Haley and Matt home,” I said and began to round them up. But in the end, I only brought Matt home. Haley was having too much fun at the Pikes’ to leave, and swore up and down that she knew the way back to her house. I left her teaching the kids how to sign the word stupid . I had a feeling there was going to be a lot of silent name-calling in the neighborhood for a while.

Friday
    Oh, no! Jessi what have you started? Mallory and I were sitting at her house last night and guess what happened. You won’t believe it.
    Well, she might believe it. Don’t jump to any conclusions. After all, most kids like languages, and this one reminds my brothers of football signals.
    Okay, so she’ll believe it, but anyway, Jessi, get this. It started when the Pike kids went totally wild last ni
    Not me! I wasn’t wild!
    No, of course not, Mal. You were one of the sitters. I meant that your brothers and sisters were wild.
    Oh, okay.
    I have to stop Dawn and Mal’s notebook entry here. It goes on forever. Let me just tell you what happened while they were sitting. (And by the way, Dawn