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Marvin nodded again.
“You sure this is something you want to do?” she asked. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I know,” said Marvin.
He looked back down the hill. He wrapped his fingers around the handlebars. The bike felt sturdy. Not like his old baby bike. This bike was made for this hill.
“I want to,” he said.
It felt good to make his own decision. Not for anyone else. For himself.
He looked back down the hill and whispered, “Oh, I’m a very brave unicorn. Yes, I am.” Then he stepped up on the pedal and swung his leg over the other side.
He shifted the gears as he watched the front tire slowly roll over the edge. The trail was narrow and steep. He squeezed both brakes as he tried to stay in the middle of the dirt path. He went between a couple of jagged boulders, then around a large bush. His tires skidded from side to side.
At last he came to a place where the trail was straight, so he eased off the brakes. That was a mistake.
The next thing he knew, he was speeding toward a cliff. He gripped the brakes hard and turned sharply. The wheels skidded inches from the cliff. He had to jerk the bike back the other way to avoid a sharp-edged boulder—once again he was heading toward the cliff. Gripping the brakes with all his might, he leaned into the turn.
The trail then widened and got easier. He caught his breath. He came to a point where he went uphill for a short distance and needed to pedal. He shifted to a lower gear.
Then the trail turned back downhill. He went through a series of wide, smooth turns that were fast and fun.
As Marvin made the last turn, he could see the bottom of the hill. The rest of the way was very steep, but straight. Then it opened up into a wide, flat area. He let go of the brakes and went full speed.
As he streaked down the hill, he saw his family waving their arms and cheering for him. His father did one of his real loud whistles.
“Way to go, Mar!” Jacob called as Marvin went flying past him.
He made a U-turn and brought his bike to a halt next to Linzy.
“You’re a gold unicorn now,” she told him.
Marvin smiled. His heart was beating super fast, out of control.
9
Monday
Nobody asked Marvin about Suicide Hill. Marvin didn’t tell anybody.
Only one person cared whether or not Marvin Redpost rode his bike down Suicide Hill. That person was Marvin Redpost.
Don’t miss a single Marvin!
Marvin suddenly figures out why he has red hair and blue eyes, while the rest of his family has brown hair and brown eyes. He’s not really Marvin Redpost at all. He’s Robert, the Lost Prince of Shampoon!
“Wonderfully logical and absurd, with wit and attention to detail rare in an easy reader.”
—The Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books
“My name’s not Marvin.”
—Marvin Redpost
The rumor is going around that Marvin is the biggest nose-picker in the school. Now everyone is acting as if the rumor is true! Even Marvin’s best friends don’t want to be seen with him. What can Marvin do?
“Vintage Sachar—ingenious, funny, gross—and with a believable resolution.”
