Making Predictions

The Giving a Hoot about Hair

by Tirzah Tyler

While taking notes in science class, Peter’s mind began to wander as Mr. Scranton taught the lesson about owls. Peter stopped taking notes and began to doodle an owl on the corner of his crumpled notebook paper. When in life was he ever going to need to know about owls? He would have rather painted a picture of an owl or even created a sculpture of one than have to hear facts about owls. It wasn’t as if he were going to grow up to become a zookeeper, he figured as he carefully drew details of the owl’s feathers in the corner of his paper.

Mr. Scranton must have said something funny, because the class suddenly laughed. Peter looked up from his notes and his drawing to see his teacher make a jerky motion with his hand over the top of his balding head. Did Mr. Scranton make a joke about owls? Or did Peter miss something good? He looked down at his half-finished drawing that he had scrawled out in messy blue ink.

“So, I told my little boy that genetics were not going to be his friend with this issue,” Mr. Scranton said, laughing. “I told him, ‘If I’m bald and your granddaddy is bald, then you’re probably gonna be bald also, son.’ ”

Peter slowly smiled as the class laughed hysterically. He wished that he had been paying closer attention during the lesson. How did his teacher get on this topic?

As the laughter in the room died down, Mr. Scranton said, “So, you see, that’s the deal with genetics and something called heredity, something that you probably learned about last year.” He wrote the word “heredity” on the chalkboard, and Peter quickly copied it down under his owl drawing.

Smacking his hands together in the air to wipe the chalk off his palms, Mr. Scranton continued. “See, basically, you kids have already inherited all of your physical characteristics from your parents. Whatever they got, there’s a good chance you’ll get it, too.”

Peter’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he realized that his dad was going bald, a lot like Mr. Scranton, and so were both his grandfathers.

Q. From the passage above, it is reasonable to predict that

• Peter will grow up to be a bald man

• Peter will ask Mr. Scranton's son to play outside.

• Peter will draw owls for the rest of his life

• Peter will as Mr. Scranton for more homework.

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A strong man of over six feet in height, Roald Amundsen was born into a family of merchant sea captains and prosperous ship owners in 1872. Amundsen developed a fascination with Antarctica from the time he first glimpsed its frozen terrain in 1897. Antarctica, a continent the size of Europe and Australia combined, had not yet been explored by humans. Amundsen aimed to be the first.

Q. Based on the passage above, it can be predicted that

• Roald Amundsen wanted to visit Australia more than Antarctica.

• Roald Amundsen was unsuccessful in his attempt to reach Antarctica.

• Roald Amundsen was the first man to successfully reach Antarctica

• Roald Amundsen only read about Antarctica in books.

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A New Perspective

by Tirzah Tyler

Strange Latin music, something between rock and cumbia, blared loudly from the large speakers in the living room. Trombones blasted and a bass guitar boomed along to a fast, poppy rhythm. Priscilla couldn’t figure out why Aunt Rosario liked this music so much.

“Isn’t Mari the best?” she asked Priscilla as she spastically bobbed her head to a song by Mari Paredes.

Priscilla shrugged her shoulders and strolled to the kitchen where her aunt was cooking supper. The oven made the kitchen’s air hot enough for her clothes to stick to her sweaty body, but at least it was away from the noisy living room. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you?” Priscilla asked her aunt.

Aunt Rosario, her head still dancing along with Mari’s rhythm, opened the oven door ever so slightly to peer inside. Her long, wavy black hair dangled down and almost got caught in the oven door as she closed it again. “Nope. The enchiladas are almost done. Your mama told me not to let you touch the oven, anyway.” She removed her frilly, paisley apron and started swiveling her thin, teenage hips in a dance.

Priscilla wanted to stick her tongue out at her aunt, but she knew better than to disrespect anyone who was in charge, especially while her mother was at work.

The phone rang in the living room, and Aunt Rosario jogged to answer it. Not bothering to turn down the stereo, she was yelling at whoever was on the other line. “Hey, man! I’m at my sister’s house babysitting her kid! You should come over and dance with me!”

Suddenly, the timer on the counter rang, and Priscilla stretched her scrawny fingers over the dial and turned it off. She slowly walked over to the living room, where her aunt had stopped dancing and was sprawled out on the couch chatting on the phone. “The timer just went off,” Priscilla announced.

“Shh!” her aunt hissed at her. “No, hombre. I found them cheaper online,” she continued to whoever was on the phone. It was probably Pablo, the skinny boy with the thin goatee who had shown up at the house this same time last weekend.

Priscilla rolled her eyes and marched back to the kitchen and pulled the oven door open. Thick waves of heavy heat slowly flowed out of the oven. The potholders were sitting on the counter. The enchiladas, sizzling in their glass dish, were ready. How hard could it be to take them out of the oven?

Q. Based on the above passage, the reader can predict that

• Priscilla will buy her aunt a present

• Priscilla will take music lessons

• Priscilla will burn herself accidentally

• Priscilla will call one of her friends

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Janice was a special rescue dog who helped people in distress. She knew how to help the blind, how to find missing people, and how to swim in rough waters to save people. One day, as Janice sat with her trainer by the lake, she spotted something in the water. Human hands were waving for help in the distance.

Q. Based on the details in the story, the reader can predict that

• Janice will swim out to rescue the person in the water

• Janice will make sure the person in the water is blind.

• Janice will wait for the person in the water to yell for help.

• Janice will tell her trainer to help the person in the water.

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excerpt from The Art of Happiness

by the Dalai Lama and Howard C. Cutler

"I believe that the very purpose of our life is to seek happiness. That is clear. Whether one believes in religion or not, whether one believes in this religion or that religion, we all are seeking something better in life. So, I think, the very motion of our life is towards happiness. . . ."

With these words, spoken before a large audience in Arizona, the Dalai Lama cut to the heart of his message. But his claim that the purpose of life was happiness raised a question in my mind. Later when we were alone, I asked the Dalai Lama. . . ."

Q. Based on the above passage, what might the narrator ask the Dalai Lama next?

• Are you happy?

• Would you please repeat that?

• How do you like Arizona?

• What time is it?

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George had never been outside his own hometown before. But that didn't stop him from dreaming. On Saturdays, when all the other boys were out at the park playing football, George was at the library gathering books, magazines, and articles. It didn't matter what place. Fiji. The Bahamas. The Virgin Islands. Guatemala. Peru. Nepal. He paid less attention to the names of the places than he did to the details of what life might be like there. He imagined walking down the backstreets and alleys of rural China, passing old hunched-over men, peasants carrying pails of manure, street vendors selling mysterious concoctions, and children squatting at the side of the road watching as the foreigner passed by.

Q. Based on this passage it is reasonable to predict that

• George will one day explore foreign lands.

• George will join a football team.

• George will become a librarian.

• George will become a book collector.

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The Soccer Nightmare

by Tirzah Tyler

I hated gym class. My stomach looked funny with my T-shirt tucked into my shorts, and I didn’t like being forced to change clothes in a smelly locker room. We girls were very careful to keep our hair sprayed and our clothes clean. Those of us who were allowed to wear makeup were careful about applying blush and powder so that our faces would look just right. Almost all of us showered after class with soap and shampoo. As far as I could tell, our hygiene was nearly perfect. So, why did the locker room smell like feet?

Holding my nose and trying to snort the locker room smell out of my nostrils, I walked onto the soccer field with the rest of the class one day. My friend Melanie bumped me on the elbow and asked, “Are you gonna get your picture taken tomorrow?”

I let go of my nose and coughed. “My mom is sewing me a dress,” I replied, nodding. “She said we could send new pictures to my grandparents.”

Melanie’s brown eyes widened. “Your mom knows how to sew?”

I proudly grinned and answered, “Yup.” I knew not many mothers owned their own sewing machine.

Here’s the part that I hated most about gym class, even more than the stinky locker room: playing sports. I was awful at it. I didn’t like running around and getting sweaty, especially at school with other people watching.

So, when Mrs. Johnston the gym teacher held a soccer ball in the air and announced that we were going to divide up into teams, I squinched my eyes shut and tilted my head back in a silent groan. Why couldn’t Mrs. Johnston just be absent today so we could have a substitute that would let us just read a book if we wanted to?

Melanie was good at playing sports, and since she was my friend, she’d choose me anytime we had to pick teams. Otherwise, I was always picked last. So, I was really dreading this.

Unfortunately, Laura and Miranda, the two tallest girls in class, picked the teams. Yes, I was picked last.

Mrs. Johnston marched onto the middle of the field and gave the ball to Laura and Miranda so they could face off. I looked across the field to Melanie, where she was crouched and waiting with the other team, and gave her a pouty face. She covered her mouth and giggled.

The team captains kicked the ball into action, and everyone on both teams scurried around the field like ants in an anthill that had just been stepped on. That is, almost everyone—I mainly just shuffled my feet and waited for class to be over.

Before I realized what was happening, a blunt force hit my face hard near my eye. Classmates ran to me and asked me if I was okay. I instinctively started to cry, but I wasn’t completely sure yet if it was because of the pain or if it was because my mother was going to get really mad at me.

Q. Based on the story above, what most likely happened to the narrator?

• She scored the winning point during the soccer game surprising her classmates.

• She got hit in the face with a soccer ball and will have a large bruise near her eye.

• She ran away from the field because she was the last one picked for a team.

• She ran into a wall on her way to get her picture taken while wearing her new dress.

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Brandon’s Good Intentions

by Tirzah Tyler

Brandon’s mom’s graying hair dangled over her face as her slender hands dug inside her silver purse. “Where are my sunglasses? Ah, here they are,” she said in a velvety, singsong voice.

“Right where you put them last, right?” Brandon asked, trying not to roll his blue eyes. The last time he rolled his eyes he got in trouble and wasn’t allowed to use the laptop for three days. His mom had gotten stricter after the divorce.

She nodded, looking over at Abigail the aging poodle, who was sulking on Brandon’s bed. The dog’s curly fur was matted with brown, crusty material that had accumulated under her eyes and was releasing an odor. “I am taking an excursion to the beauty supply store,” his mom began as she fished her keys out of her purse, “and hopefully, I’ll arrive before they close this evening.”

“Abigail is really gross now,” Brandon said.

“She needs a good bath, and I will correct that after I return,” his mom replied, nodding again.

“From your excursion?” Brandon asked.

Knitting her brows, Brandon’s mom shook her head slightly from side to side. “I don’t like the tone you’re about to give me,” she said quietly.

Brandon sighed and ran his hand over the top of his short, cropped brown hair. His mom was a college professor who liked to use big words, and this sometimes frustrated Brandon. Before he answered this time, he tried to think of a way to respond as respectfully as possible. “I’m sorry, Ma’am. Sometimes, it’s hard to understand what you say.”

His mom grinned and placed a hand on his shoulder. “And sometimes, I forget that you’re not your father,” she said. “You look just like him.”

Abigail whined and wagged her tail.

“You stay here and be good, little lady,” Brandon’s mom cooed as she reached over to pet the dog. “Very well, young man, I’ll return after my short trip,” she told Brandon as she carefully slipped her silver sunglasses over her ears. “Whatever you do, please make sure Abigail stays here on your bed. Her arthritis has been flaring up, and I don’t want her to get hurt if she tries to jump down by herself.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Brandon replied as his mom waved and walked out the door. He lugged his heavy literature book onto his lap and flipped to his reading assignment, a story about flowers and a mouse.

Just then, the laptop chimed in the dining room where his mom had probably left it turned on. An instant message had arrived, and the possibility of who it could be gnawed at Brandon’s mind like a persistent rodent. Was it one of his friends Sam or Kevin? Or maybe it was his dad.

Gingerly setting aside his book, Brandon turned to Abigail, who was wagging her tail, and said, “I’ll be right back. Stay there.”

He sprinted to the laptop in the dining room and saw that his classmate Tina, who had a crush on him, had sent him an instant message that said, “Hey.”

Brandon groaned. Why couldn’t Tina just leave him alone for once?

Suddenly, a loud yelp came from Brandon’s room.

Q. Based on the above passage, the reader can predict that

• Abigail does not like the sound of the laptop's chime.

• Abigail barks at a little rodent running across the floor.

• Abigail jumps down from the bed and hurt herself.

• Abigail tosses a chew toy into the air across the room.

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Susan’s Woodwind Chronicles

by Tirzah Tyler

Susan made good grades in school, but what she really liked to do was play the clarinet in the school band. She would carry her clarinet with her almost everywhere, even to the pizza parlor with her friends. Once, she and her friends had to wait for nearly half an hour to get their pizza. She opened her clarinet case, carefully put her instrument together, and started to play. The jukebox wasn’t playing, so her clarinet was the only entertainment there. After the manager brought out the girls’ pizza himself and Susan finished playing her solo, he applauded, as did everyone else in the restaurant. Her friends squealed with glee. She took a bow, feeling better than she ever had in her life.

One day, while her mother took her to a dentist appointment, jazz music came on the loudspeaker. Mesmerized, Susan dropped the magazine she had been reading. A mellow and joyful clarinet solo played in the middle of a song. After it was over, she turned to her mother and asked if she could play her clarinet at church sometime.

As she grew older and continued to play music, she would lie in bed at night practicing her clarinet fingerings. Sometimes, it was hard to fall asleep because music and ideas would swirl through her head.

Q. Based on the above passage, what is the most reasonable prediction?

• Susan will go to the dentist's office to read magazines.

• Susan will grow up to become a professional clarinet player.

• Susan will teach her friends how to play a clarinet.

• Susan will try to get a job managing a pizza parlor.

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It Happened in Math Class

by Tirzah Tyler

My teacher Mrs. Alford was reviewing a lesson on long division when I felt like I was going to cough. I had just come back to school after being absent for three days with a terrible cold. I still had most of the tissues that my mom gave me folded neatly in the outside pocket of my backpack. My nose wasn’t as stuffy now as it had been earlier. I thought I would interrupt all my classes that day, blowing my nose like a honking goose, but I didn’t. I especially didn’t want to interrupt Mrs. Alford’s lesson, because she was pretty strict. I forced myself to finish all the make-up work she had sent home to me so I could be prepared when I came back to school.

Just when my eyes started watering and I couldn’t stand it anymore, I coughed onto my hand. I put down my pencil and unzipped my backpack as quietly as I could to get a tissue. To my relief, Mrs. Alford just kept teaching.

“Jennifer, what answer did you get for number five?” she asked me.

I slowly looked down at my paper. “26.4,” I replied after I wiped my hand.

“Very good,” Mrs. Alford said and continued the lesson.

I sat back in my seat a little bit. Sniffling, I peeked over at Grant Page, the freckled blond boy who always made 100s, and I noticed a confused look on his face as he looked down at his paper. Wow. Even after I had been home sick for three days, I knew something that Grant Page didn’t.

Suddenly, I felt like I was going to cough again, but this time, I didn’t have time to control it. My cough exploded out of me, on both ends. It reverberated off the walls throughout the entire classroom. I felt myself blush.

Mrs. Alford just kept teaching, but Andy Jones, the curly-haired boy who made fun of everything, giggled uncontrollably. Samantha Peabody, the redheaded girl who always sat next to him, covered her mouth while she laughed like a muffled hyena.

I wanted to rip back the carpet, burrow an underground tunnel that led back to my house, and finish the school year in the privacy of my own home. I wanted to visit a time machine and change my history to where I had never, ever coughed during my entire life. I wanted to punch Andy Jones and Samantha Peabody in the nose to make them stop laughing. This wasn’t fair. I wanted all the other seventh graders to know me as the smart girl, not the explosive girl.

Mrs. Alford spun around from the blackboard, her gray hair twirling in the air. “Class, be quiet,” she said. “Let’s focus on the task at hand. Now,” she added, more piercingly.

But Andy and Samantha only laughed more loudly. Even Grant Page was laughing now.

Q. Jennifer will most likely

• consider this to be one of her most embarrassing moments of her life.

• announce to the class that she wants to run for school president.

• quickly walk over to Andy Jones' desk and tell him to be quiet.

• make fun of other students that embarrass themselves in the future.

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