Hi! Welcome to Book Snacks your chance to
hear the first chapter of a children's
fiction book read aloud by me, Miss Amy,
Youth Services Librarian at the South
St. Paul Public Library. My Book Snacks
picks are all available to check out and
read or listen to using one of our free
digital apps available to you with your
library card. Visit www.ssplibrary.org
for more information about the library
or about library cards. Let's get into
the book! This book is number one in the
Explorer Academy series by Trudi Trueit.
It's called The Nebula Secret. Chapter
one. "Cruz!" His name floated easily to
him across the water. Cruz turned to
see his dad waving him in from the beach.
It couldn't be time to go already,
could it? Knee-deep in the warm surf, Cruz raised an arm. He spread his
fingers to ask-- beg-- for five more minutes.
"Please," he whispered into the evening
breeze. In about three hours, he would be
leaving for Explorer Academy. It was a
long way from Kauai to Washington, D.C.--
4,882
miles, to be exact. And Cruz was scared.
What if he didn't make any friends? What
if he couldn't handle the training? What
if he disappointed his family, his
friends, his teachers, and everybody who
expected him to be something even he
wasn't sure he could be? His father was
giving him the thumbs-up. Yes!
Pushing the what-ifs from his mind, Cruz
faced the tangerine sunset of Hanalei
Bay. He would think of everything
else later, He slid his belly onto the
surfboard and began windmilling his arms
through the tepid teal waters as he'd done
thousands of times. He'd been surfing for
as long as he could remember. His dad
teased him that he spent more time in
the water than out of it, which was probably
true. Cruz loved the sweeping motion of
the waves. Water was constant and
dependable. Comforting. Approaching the
break, Cruz grasped the sides of his
surfboard. He pushed the nose underwater
in a smooth duck dive and the swell
passed over him. Surfacing, he paddled out
a bit farther and cut a 45-degree turn
that put him parallel to the beach.
Lining himself up with the end of the
long pier, he sat up and straddled his
board, legs dangling. He liked the take-off
zone. It was "the calm before the ride," as
Lani liked to say. Bobbing like this, he
could think about anything or nothing. The
choice was up to him. On his last day at
home, Cruz didn't want to think. He wanted
to feel. He wanted to feel every
sensation. And remember. To his left,
beyond the crescent-shaped inlet, rose
the emerald peaks of the mountains on
the northern shore. In the fading light,
it was easy to pick out the white
waterfalls cascading down the creases of
the hills. Cruz spotted his dad walking
through the parking lot--
geez, sailboats 20 miles offshore could
probably see that crazy-bright yellow-
and-blue-zigzag shirt. His father would
be headed back up to the Goofy Foot,
their surf shop, to close for the night.
Cruz glanced right, into the deep orange
sunset. It was as if the glowing orb had
rolled out a carpet of light to cross
the ocean for him, just to say goodbye. He
was sure going to miss this place. "You
don't have to go you know," Lani had said
last spring when he told her he'd been
accepted into the Academy. Her words stung.
Lani was his best friend-- the one who
always found the silver lining. Not that
he blamed her. They had both applied to
the school, yet only Cruz had been
accepted. It had come as a shock. He had
thought Lani surely would have been
chosen over him-- she was so much smarter
and more creative. But then the certified
letter had arrived. For him. It was
impressive, with its fancy parchment
paper and shiny gold seal.
Dear Cruz Coronado, Congratulations!
The Society is pleased to extend to you
this invitation of admittance to our
elite Explorer Academy. Upon acceptance,
you will be inducted into the next class
of young explorers and given the rare
privilege of learning firsthand from a
faculty of the world's most renowned
scientists, explorers, conservationists,
photographers, and journalists as you
travel to historic and majestic
locations around the globe. We select
only those candidates of the highest
caliber for this prestigious honor. We
ardently await your response. Cordially,
Regina M. Hightower, Ph.D. Explorer Academy
President. Cruz's aunt Marisol, who
taught anthropology at the Academy,
said that they only accepted 25 or so
students per class from around the world.
It was quite an achievement to be
admitted. Still, Cruz wondered, had he
earned it? His aunt had likely pulled a
few strings to get him in. Or it could
have been offered out of guilt. Cruz's
mom also once worked at the Society-- she
had been a neuroscientist with the
Synthesis, its scientific arm. Seven years
ago. there was a bad accident in her lab.
It had taken her life. Another
Synthesis scientist, Dr. Elistair
Fallowfeld,
had also died in the tragedy. That's all
anyone would tell Cruz and his family.
That, and his mother had been in the
wrong place at the wrong time.
Cruz hated that saying. Isn't everyone
who accidentally dies in the wrong place
at the wrong time? "I thought the plan was
for us to go to the Academy together,"
Lani had said to Cruz. "Yeah, but Aunt
Marisol thinks--" "Of course her aunt wants
you to go now. She's going to be there.
What do you think? Cruz knew Lani had
wanted him to say he would ask the
school to let him wait a year. That would
give Lani another chance to apply. He
wasn't sure that was a good idea.
Cruz was afraid if he didn't go
this year they'd never invite him again.
There was something else, too. A feeling.
No, it was more than a feeling. He
couldn't explain it-- he only knew he had
to obey.
"I think..." His breath had caught. "I think I
want to go now."
Lani had thrown her hands up.
"That's it, then. Fine. Go." "Don't be
mad. We'll still be able to see each
other whenever we want, even when I go
aboard Orion." She'd raised a suspicious
eyebrow. "Right. Like you're really gonna
call me from the explorers' ship halfway
around the world." "Why not? I'll have Mell."
"They're letting you take your MAV?" Mell was Cruz's honeybee drone, a micro air
vehicle (MAV) no bigger than his thumb. It
was a gift from his dad last year after
Cruz had sprained his knee, so that he
would still be able to "see the surf, even
if he couldn't feel it." Turned out, he'd
only missed a few days of surfing. "Uh-huh."
Cruz had given her a smirk. "See, it
won't be so bad. I can give you the scoop
on what it's like so when you get in next
year you'll be set. All we have to do is
pretend you're in your room and I'm in
mine, instead of--" "Half a world away," she'd
said wistfully, yet she had been twisting
her hair-- a sign of surrender. "Come on
Lani," he had pleaded. "I need your
support."
"Okay, okay but you'd better stay in touch
or so help me I will track you down all the
way to the North Pole, if I have to."
She wasn't kidding. If Cruz had learned
anything it was that when Leilani
Kealoha said she would do something, she
meant it. "Absolutely," he'd said. 
Easy as Dad's guava pie." She had folded her arms.
"You know I hate pie." Girls. There! Cruz
spotted his wave. Dropping his chest, he
flattened himself against the board. As
the swell rolled in behind him, Cruz
turned for shore and paddled hard. His
strokes were strong and deliberate.
Timing was key. Pop up too early and he'd miss the
crest. Go too late and he'd wipe out. Cruz
could feel the surge growing behind him.
Almost time. Just... a few... more... seconds...
When he felt the tail of his board begin to
lift, Cruz arched his back, pushed off
with his hands, and planted his feet
under him-- right foot in front and left
foot in back, in goofy foot position. Most
right-handed people surf with their left
foot in front, but not Cruz. Slowly, he
lifted himself into a low crouch. The
moment the wave broke under him, he let
go of the board and rose, arms out for
balance. Cruz felt the familiar smooth
glide of success. He'd hit the crest
perfectly! "Woo-hoo!"
he yelled, angling the board inward.
Mist sprayed his face as he made a
sweeping S pattern through the curl of
wave. Cruz shifted his weight, skimming
left, then right, then left again to ride
the swirl as fast and as far as he could.
Surfing made him feel powerful. Free.
Invincible! If only the feeling lasted
longer than a TV commercial. Cruz rode
the wave inland until it dissipated into
foam. Reaching for the Velcro strap on
his ankle that tethered him to his board,
his hand hesitated. It hadn't been five
minutes, had it? Maybe one more run...
Charging back into the foam, Cruz tossed
his board into the water, hopped on, and
paddled out past the break. As before, he
scooted upright to straddle his board.
Cruz was lifting his left foot to
double-check the ankle strap of the
leash when he felt a tug on his right
heel. It wasn't a swish, like a fish or
turtle passing. It was a good pull. And it
could mean only one thing:
shark! Cruz tried to slide to the left
side of his board, away from the shark,
but it had a firm hold on his ankle. He
was being dragged down, away from the
surface. Don't panic! KICK! Cruz clung to
his surfboard, the only thing that would
keep him afloat, and kicked with all his
might. If he could manage to turn around,
he could use the board to bop the shark
on the nose and break loose.
As he struggled, a million thoughts raced
through his head.
Stupid! Sharks feed at dusk. You should
have gone in when Dad called. You're not
supposed to drown. Stupid!
He was swallowing water. He couldn't
breathe. No. No! NO! The words pounded in
rhythm to his heart. He would not die
this way. With his lungs burning and his
energy waning, Cruz twisted his body in
one last effort to strike a blow. He
lashed out and his fist hit something
smooth and hard. Bubbles swarmed around
him. He saw a yellow snake. No! A tube. This
was no shark. It was a person! His
thrashing had knocked the air hose
loose from the diver's tank. Cruz felt a
sharp pain in his ankle and then,
suddenly, he was free! Through the bubbles,
he caught sight of a pair of fanning
fins. The driver was moving away. Cruz
stroked for the surface, his chest on the
verge of exploding. He pushed his arms up
through the water, up and out, up and out.
He kept his feet moving, kicking, kicking,
until finally he breached the surface. Cruz gulped
as much air as his lungs could handle.
Treading, he spun around, his eyes darting
from the pier to the beach to the
horizon and back. He did several circles,
but didn't see anyone nearby. Take it
easy. You're okay. He's gone. You're okay.
Cruz flung his arm behind him, groping
for his surfboard, still tied to his leg.
He tried to slide it under his body but
was shaking so much it took him a few
tries to do what usually came naturally.
Clutching his board and looking over his
shoulder, he rode the tide in until he
scraped bottom. Still gasping, Cruz rolled
off the board and onto the wet sand.
Never had he been so happy to be back on
land! He lay on his back for several
minutes, feeling himself breathe. His
hands tingled, his throat was raw, and
his right ankle throbbed. But he was
alive. As Cruz stared up at the deep
violet sky,
at the first winking stars of night, one
word kept scrolling through his brain: Why?
To find out what happens next, look for
this book in the library catalog. We'll
see you again soon for another Book
Snacks.
