Pennies from heaven, p.19
And Then, Boom!, page 19
Also by Lisa Fipps
Starfish
Nancy Paulsen Books
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, New York
First published in the United States of America by Nancy Paulsen Books,
an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 2024
Copyright © 2024 by Lisa Fipps
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Fipps, Lisa, author.
Title: And then, boom! / Lisa Fipps.
Description: New York: Nancy Paulsen Books, 2024. | Summary: Poverty-stricken Joseph bravely rides out all the storms life keeps throwing at him.
Identifiers: LCCN 2023035503 | ISBN 9780593406328 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780593406335 (ebook)
Subjects: CYAC: Novels in verse. | Family problems—Fiction. | Poverty—Fiction. | Grief—Fiction. | Resilience—Fiction. | Mobile home living—Fiction. | LCGFT: Novels in verse.
Classification: LCC PZ7.5.F57 An 2024 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2023035503
Ebook ISBN 9780593406335
Edited by Nancy Paulsen
Design by Cindy De la Cruz, adapted for ebook by Michelle Quintero
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
pid_prh_7.0_146938465_c0_r0
Contents
Dedication
Just Like Superman
Origin Story
Why the World Needs Comic Books
And-Thens and Booms!
Scratching an Itch
Prepare for Takeoff
Mom’s First Takeoff
Make Me Choose
Pop!
Onomatopoeia
Oodles of Doodles
Power of a Word
From Poor to Poorer
The Mess with Mom
Wish I Didn’t Have to Know
What I Know About My Dad
Two Halves ≠ Whole
Unhoused
The Fishbowl
Eating Crumbs
Out of Our Reach
Dirty
Ant-Man
It’s Amazing
Life Preserver
The Overripe Banana
Nick
Three-Finger Rundown
Uncle Frankie
Frank-Mart
The Quilt
Grandmum’s Arms
Key
By the Front Door
Safe Space
The Grower
My Walk to School
Hakeem
Farbal
Math Matters
Juste Horrible
The Share Table and Corner Store
The Reticulated Python
Not Enough, but Plenty
Villains at the Table
Fair and Square
Sitgen
Tummy Troubles
Hunger
Wasted
Bowling Ball Pyramid
Sick and Tired
I Love Basketball
What the Game’s About
The Turd
Happy Farts
Out for Supper
Worse Than Hunger
All I Need
Last Night
Nighttime’s for Wishes and Dreams
Everyone Has a One Day
The Return of Thanos
Raven
Seeds of Hope
Screaming
Three Kinds of People
I Am Falcon
The Hug Sandwich
Grandmum Got Her One Day
The Crow
Chimera
Casserole Surprise!
Shepherd’s Pie
Snapped
Around and Around
Take Him Off My Hands
Reeling in the Food
Fish Fry
Fly Free
I Get It Now
One Sweet Moment
Losing More of Grandmum
Mom and Me
Maybe It’s Like Basketball
The Kiss
Silence
The Balloon
Texting
Zipped Lips
Couldn’t Help but Hear
Doomsday’s Left Hook
No Reply
The Bag
Tangled Webs
Should Have Asked
Abandoned
Rescued
The Luckies
I Can’t Even Feed Me
The Knock on the Door
Places to Go, People to See
The Right Thing
Dawggone Hole
The Magic Closet
Mrs. Swan, My Superhero
Rock, Paper, Scissors
We Have to Talk
Logic Train
Worst Thing Ever
I’m Not Alone
Running Out
Surprised, Not Surprised
Problem Solved
Leaning on Each Other
The Grocery List
Disconnected
The Five Marbles
Going, Going, Gone
Just a Fraction
Making Sure I Don’t Go Hungry
Satisfying Sounds
Right Hook!
Oh Deer!
Did What I Asked
What Hunger Feels Like
Oak, Joe Oak
Dumpster Diving
Olympic Medalist
Eating Leftovers
Can’t Win
Maybe
Can’t Be All That Bad
Bad Beef Stew
All That for Nothing
On the Tip of My Tongue
My Favorite Day
Not Quite Right
Howling Winds
Trapped
A Big Pile of Poo
It’s Just Beginning
Lightning Strikes
And Then
Here It Comes
The Tornado
Holding On
Superman
Survived the Storm
After a Storm
Hurt
Take Care of Yourself
My Story
Bracing
All Kinds of Lucky
Barely Recognizable
Hunger Three-Finger Rundown
Clean Start
A Lot of Ifs
The Suitcase
Everybody Knows Now
Slushy Manor
A Little Overwhelming
Phoenix and Olivia
The Davisons
A Minute to Get Used to All This
Surrounded by Food
Learn from Each Other
The Fifth Chair
Taken Care Of
Before They Get So Bad
My Room
Rebuilding
My Boy
Little Free Pantries
Do What You Can
The View from Here
Even Superheroes Need Help
Readers and Teachers
Acknowledgments
About the Author
_146938465_
To every kid who hungers for food; hungers to be out of poverty; hungers to let go of the shoulder-breaking, knee-buckling weight of each and then, BOOM!; hungers to be a kid instead of a grown-up in a kid’s body; hungers for a safe place away from stormy people popping in and out of your life; and who hungers to never be left abandoned and alone again: I know you. I was you. I wrote this book to you and for you to give you hope, something to believe in, and to tell you it can all work out in the end.
You. Are. Not. Alone.
In memory of Grandmum,
Eleanor Elizabeth Davison Brown Fipps.
Still miss your Captain America hugs.
XOXOXO
Just Like Superman
My name’s Joseph Oak, and
since an oak tree
grows from an acorn nut,
Grandmum calls me a little nut,
and if Mom’s around to hear it, she adds,
I’m allergic to nuts.
It isn’t nice of Mom to say that,
but she’s not known for saying
—or doing—
nice things.
But I never thought
she’d do what she did.
I never thought a lot of things.
Like I’d be on the news and
the whole wide world
would end up finding out about
the moment I flew.
Just like Superman.
Origin Story
I’m not a superhero.
Straight up not.
I mean, yeah, sure,
I flew like Superman.
Once.
But
I don’t have any special powers—unless
you count my ability to be invisible,
and to survive.
I do have one thing in common
with superheroes.
I have an origin story.
So does Grandmum, who’s from England,
Mom, who gets The Itch,
my best friends, Hakeem and Nick,
Uncle Frankie, who’s not really my uncle,
and my sixth-grade teacher, Mrs. Swan.
Each of us has an origin story,
the story of how we became who we are.
This is my story,
and when you read it,
I want you to remember something.
When Superman summons every ounce of his strength
to survive something others can’t even imagine,
he’s the same person he was when
he crumpled to his knees,
left helpless by Kryptonite.
He’s the same person he was when
he was Clark Kent,
just living day by day,
invisible to the world.
Superman’s the sum of all his moments.
And so am I.
Why the World Needs Comic Books
In comic books,
superheroes use their powers to help others,
defeat villains,
and save themselves.
Good triumphs over evil,
giving you hope,
something to believe in.
Comic books remind you
that even when horrible things happen,
it can all work out
in the end.
And-Thens and Booms!
Every story boils down to
and-thens
and
BOOMS!
And-thens
and
BOOMS!
are all about the moments when
something happens
that changes
everything.
It could be bad.
And it could be good,
but it’s often not.
So always pay attention to
and-thens
and
BOOMS!
Scratching an Itch
I’m only allergic to one thing.
Poison ivy.
I learned that the hard way one day when
my basketball rolled into the woods.
Leaves brushed across my face as
I parted them like curtains to find the ball.
When I woke up the next day,
I looked like . . . well . . .
Pretend you need to blow up a big balloon, and
fill your cheeks full of air.
Bigger.
Bigger.
Bigger.
Now squint.
That’s what I looked like.
But worse than how I looked was how I felt.
An itch is the worst!
You can’t stop thinking about it,
and the more you try not to,
the more you do.
Plus you just have to scratch it,
but then an itch itches even more.
It’s almost impossible
to live with an itch.
Prepare for Takeoff
My grampy was a pilot,
and my grandmum says
you can always tell when
a pilot’s preparing for takeoff.
They start ticking boxes on a checklist.
And the list is always the same.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Mom’s like a pilot when she gets The Itch.
That’s what I call it when she gets restless
and wants to take off.
Her Itch Takeoff Checklist goes like this.
Stares out windows.
Sighs loudly a lot.
Swings like a pendulum
from sad
to mean
and back again.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Mom leaves for days.
Weeks.
Months.
You never know when she’ll take off
or when she’ll come back.
But you know takeoff’s coming.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Mom’s First Takeoff
The first time I remember Mom taking off
was on a sweaty, sticky summer day.
We lived in The Gingerbread House then,
the color of graham crackers with a fancy white trim.
It was old and didn’t have air-conditioning.
Mom sighed as we sat on the porch swing,
hoping for a cool breeze.
She pumped her legs,
and the swing creak-creaked as we rocked.
My legs stuck straight out,
too little to dangle down.
As soon as I spied
yellow wings with black tiger stripes and a blue tail,
I jumped down to chase
the eastern tiger swallowtail,
and Mom chased me.
All I wanted was to hold the butterfly,
but every time I got close to it,
it took off.
What on earth’s wrong with you?!
Who tries to trap a butterfly?!
Mom yelled,
picking me up,
carrying me back to the porch, and
plopping me down onto the swing.
I flinched
when the screen door banged
as Mom went inside the house.
She came back out
with her purse slung over one shoulder
and her keys jingling, jangling.
Where you going? I go, too!
I yelled, scooting off the swing.
She didn’t even look at me.
She just went straight to her car and got in.
Slam!
Squeal!
Vroom!
Mom took off.
I hopped onto my Big Wheel
and pedaled down the sidewalk,
trying to catch her,
but my little legs
just couldn’t keep up.
Make Me Choose
Mom wears a silk butterfly scarf all the time.
She says she’s a butterfly,
and butterflies are free.
You should be able to go
wherever you want
whenever you want.
Fly away.
Be free.
But Grandmum would say,
You’re not a butterfly, Carli.
You’re a mom.
You can’t be both.
Oh yeah?
Mom would answer.
Then make me choose and
watch what happens.
Pop!
When I was little,
I had a jack-in-the-box.
Music played as I turned the handle, and
I never knew exactly when
it was coming, but
I knew the door would open with a loud
POP!
And the clown would be right there.
The longer I turned the handle,
the more nervous I got,
waiting for that pop.
That’s what it’s like
after Mom gets The Itch and takes off.
I never know when
she’ll pop back into my life.
The longer I wait for her,
the more nervous I get
that she won’t ever return,
and yet
the more I fear her coming home.
Onomatopoeia
Comic books are full of onomatopoeia.
I can tell you a story about Mom and me
using only onomatopoeia.
Grrr!
Slap!
Ouch!
