TEEN BOOK CLUB Got shopping? Get discounts! Visit Surfnetkids: Coupons, Deals and Bargains for hundreds of discounts from dozens of online stores. week's book: THE MYSTERIOUS EDGE OF THE HEROIC WORLD by E.L. Konigsburg *New to the book club? Just click on the Missing Read link below for any shops you may have missed. Go to: (Today's book starts after the "Dear Reader" column.) Reader, I love the character of Mrs. Zender! I wish I had a neighbor as cool as her! My neighbors are all older and while they are nice and can make some seriously cool Christmas tree ornaments, they certainly don't have stage names! What are your neighbors like? Any cool ones? Mary shop me at: Missing an shop? Go to: =====TODAY'S MYSTERIOUS EDGE OF THE HEROIC WORLD by E.L. Konigsburg (fiction) Published by Atheneum Books for Young Readers, an imprint of Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing Division ISBN: 9781416949725 Text Copyright (c) 2007 by E.L. Konigsburg To reference this shop: HEROIC (Part 3 of 5) from Tuesday) A wide threshold of broken flagstones led to the front door of Mrs. Zender's house. There were no torn papers and dried leaves blowing up against a ripped screen door as in the opening credits of a horror movie. Her grounds were not littered with papers but with pinecones and needles, fallen Spanish moss, and big leathery sycamore leaves. Her lawn was cut but not manicured; her shrubs were not pruned, and except for the holes through the branches that the electric company made to protect the wires, her trees were wild. The paint on her front door was peeling. Her place looked shabby. Shabby in a genteel way, as if the people who lived there didn't have to keep up with the Joneses because they themselves "were" the Joneses. Amedeo wiped a moustache of sweat from his upper lip with the sleeve of his T-shirt. Like a performer ready to go on stage, he stood on the threshold and took a long sip of the hot, moist gaseous matter that St. Malo called air. He lifted his hand to ring the bell. The door swung wide, and the entire opening filled, top to bottom, with a sleeve. The sleeve of a silk kimono. "Yes?" the woman said, smiling. Her smile engaged her whole face. Her mouth opened high and wide; her nostrils flared, and her eyebrows lifted to meet a narrow margin of blond hair. Just beyond the hairline, her head was covered by a long, gauzy silk was tied in an elaborate knot below her left ear but was still long enough to hang to her waist. She wore three shades of eye shadow--one of which was purple--and heavy black mascara. Her lips were painted a bright crimson, which feathered above and below the line of her lips and left red runes on three of her front teeth. It was nine o'clock in the morning. Amedeo had never seen anyone dressed like that except when he was in an audience. "H ello," he said. "My name is Amedeo Kaplan, and I would like permission to use your phone." Mrs. Zender introduced herself and commented, "Amedeo. Lovely name." "Thank you. People usually call me Deo." "I won't," she said. "'Amedeo' is Italian for 'Amadeus,' which means 'love of God.' It was Mozart's middle name." "It was my grandfather's first name. I'm named for him." "Lovely," she said, "lovely name, but how did you get here, Amedeo?" "I walked." "You walked? From where?" "From next door." "Oh," Mrs. Zender replied. "I didn't know there was a child." "There definitely was. 'Is.'" "I didn't know." "I was at camp." "Music camp?" Mrs. Zender asked. She smiled expectantly, waiting for an explanation. Fascinated, Amedeo watched her upper lip squeegee away one of the red runes. When he didn't answer, she told Amedeo to follow her, and with a sweep of sleeve, she pointed the way. The underarm seam of her kimono was split. Mrs. Zender was not a natural blonde. As they traveled the distance of a long center hall, they passed two or three rooms so dark it was hard to tell where one ended and another began. Every window was covered with heavy drapes, which dropped from padded valances. The word "portiere" from "Gone With the Wind" came to mind. In several windows, the drapes had been shortened to accommodate a bulky window air conditioner that was noisily waging war with the heat and humidity. And losing. They passed a dining room large enough to be a ballroom. In the semilight, Amedeo could make out a "Phantom of the Opera" chandelier hanging over a table that looked long enough to seat the guest list at Buckingham Palace. Opposite the dining room was a room with a baby grand piano; its open lid reflected the few slits of light that pierced the parting of the drapes. The darkness and the drawn drapes added a dimension to the heat. It was August. It was St. Malo. It was hot. Hot, hot, hot. But the thickness of the air carried the sound of of the rooms and transformed the hallway into a concert hall. Amedeo slowed down and cocked his head to listen. Mrs. Zender said, "So you like my sound system." "Definitely." "One of a kind," she said, "Karl Eisenhuth himself installed it." "Karl Eisenhuth? I'm sorry, I don't know him." "Then I shall tell you. Karl Eisenhuth was the world's greatest acoustician. He had never before installed a sound system in a private home. He had done opera houses in Brno and Vienna and a symphony hall in Amsterdam. Mr. Zender, my late husband, contacted him and requested that he install a sound system here. Karl Eisenhuth asked Mr. Zender why he should bother with a private home in St. Malo, Florida, and Mr. Zender replied with three words: 'Aida Lily Tull.' That was my professional name. Those three words, 'Aida Lily Tull,' were reason enough." Amedeo said, "I'm impressed." He was. Mrs. Zender said, "I'm pleased that you are." And for reasons he did not yet understand, Amedeo was pleased to have pleased. (continued on Thursday) =========BUY this link to get the best price on this week's book: To locate or purchase OTHER BOOKS use this link: =======SHARE THE can forward this shop to your friends and relatives. Encourage them to join our book clubs. It's a great way to stay in touch even if you live thousands of miles apart. comments or book suggestions? Contact me, Barbara J. Feldman, at: Inc., 991C Lomas Santa Fe Dr. #415 Solana Beach, CA 92075 You are currently Purchased to surfteen as: To Purchase send a blank shop to To join any of the free Surfnetkids Book Clubs, visit:

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