Thank you!

Chapter 1:

My boring life.

I sat at my boring desk in my boring house in Franklin, Tennessee, doing my boring homework. I wrote my name on to name line on the top as neat as I could. Vivian Sterling is my name, but a very OLD name. I was named after my Gran Vivian, but I don't look a thing like her. With my wild short blonde hair and my smock-like s sky blue pinafore over my white T-shirt and brim hat, I look like a boy. I am mostly a tomboy, like my Momma. Anyway, here I sat at my desk, vying 

for justSOMETHING to do. I set down my pencil and turned on the radio, but no music. Giving that I lived in a rickety big wooden house in the middle of nowhere in 1932, it's no surprise that I have a fuzzy radio. A couple months ago radios came out, and now everybody's all excited about 'em and wants 'em so bad. My Mamma bought me one the minute they came out. Well, technically she bought it for herself, but when she found out it wouldn't work in the cruddy land that we 

live in, she gave it to me. But I think she just gave upon it. I turned the radio off and started doodling on my math worksheet. I drew my best friend, Joanne, and I, but it ended up like two clowns with goofy smiles. I glanced over at our picture in southern California by the beach, us laughing when Joanne dropped her ice cream on the bridge and then a dog came by and peed on it. That was one of our most happy moments. But now, in the middle of nowhere, there isn't much happy.

Here's a picture of me and Joanne when we were 5. It seemed so long ago now that we're 10. But since she's moved to California, and me, my Daddy, Mamma, and our stupid dog Caddy are stuck in a boring Tennessee farm.

Our farm is not like farms I'm sure you've seen. We only have chickens that tend to lay their eggs out of their nests (which is irresponsible as mothers--they're supposed to PROTECT their eggs, not leave them out so predators can eat them!),  the tractor is caked up with gunk and who-knows-what-else, our cows are incredibly annoying, and try to eat our hands when we feed them. In general, our life is a boring, messed up and scrambled kind of life.

Chapter 2

We become puny police officers.

We've had our Buick Series 40 for about 8 years, Daddy says, and he wants to get it to 40 years. "It'll give us good luck," he says, "we might just win the dad-gummin' lottery for once." I honestly think he just wants us to win the lottery so he can add flames or other weird touches to the car. Either way he wants it, I don't care. Whether he paints it with flames or dyes it ugly bright pink, I don't care. Today in the paper a man named Wesley Quin died of a murder, and believe it or

not, the police and rangers are actually ALLOWING people to help them investigate. Apparently, the case hadn't been solved for 4 years, and giving my Daddy's big love of gettin' money, today we went to check it out. There wasn't much to see, and they didn't even let us in the house where the murder was near. Even though my Daddy was convinced that not only the murder happened outside, but the murderer--dubbed Edward Dune--might've left clues in the house. I'll bet ya 100 dollars

that in 90 years from now, that case'll be solved when someone FINALLY LOOKED IN THE HOUSE and found clues for once!!! Honestly, do people get dumber as the years go by? First the Lindburg baby kidnapping, and now this? What's next--School fire set by Whoodee What's-his-face? Shooting? Another murder? These days I just don't know anymore. I wish I was as smart as Albert Einstein. Rumors I've heard say that he can even tell the future! But I don't really know about that. If he  

that the case'll be solved 30 years from now when someone FINALLY thought to actually LOOK INSIDE THE STINKIN' HOUSE!!! I don't really know anymore. I don't think anyone else knows anymore, either. One day at school I heard rumors about some guy named Albert Einstein, and some kids said that he could even tell the future! I don't know if that's actually true, though. Not everything they say at school is true, if you ask me. Whether this guy can tell the future or he 

can't, one day if I see him when I'm picking out apples for Mamma at the grocery store, I'm gonna ask him if he can see the future and if our family will eventually be rich and famous. Is it me or did that thought seem pretty darn ridiculous? On second thought, I don't think our family will ever be rich and famous. We'll always be the boring, ignorant family as we are. I'm pretty sure I can guarantee that on my life. If we end up rich and famous, we would probably be awkwardly famous, because