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Annotation: Sam looks for answers about his past with the help of a new friend from school after finding an old newspaper clipping in his grandfather's attic that indicatesthat he may have been kidnapped.
Catalog Number: #24037
Format: Perma-Bound Edition
All Formats: Search
Publisher: Dell Yearling
Copyright Date: 2008
Edition Date: 2008
Pages: 164 pages
Availability: Available
ISBN: Publisher: 0-440-23802-1 Perma-Bound: 0-605-17798-8
ISBN 13: Publisher: 978-0-440-23802-7 Perma-Bound: 978-0-605-17798-7
Dewey: Fic
LCCN: 2007012638
Dimensions: 20 cm.
Language: English
ALA Booklist
Just before his eleventh birthday, Sam finds a newspaper clipping poking out of a locked box in the attic. Below the word missing is an image of a small child, who, Sam realizes with astonishment, is himself. Although he can "read wood" like his carpenter grandfather, Mack, with whom he lives, Sam can't read words. He agonizes over his discovery, but he is too afraid to ask Mack for explanations. Then he befriends an eccentric new student, Caroline, and together they investigate Sam's past. How did he arrive at the place where he is being raised by Mack. Why does he dream about an icy river? The gentle, heart-tugging mystery moves slowly, allowing readers to fully sense Sam's world, where he is deeply loved, and to feel the terrifying possibility of its loss. Children growing up in unconventional families will appreciate Sam's devoted family of friends, and many readers will discover empathy and insight as Sam struggles to read words that seem to "move like spiders . . . across the page."
Horn Book
On the eve of his eleventh birthday, Sam MacKenzie discovers a mysterious newspaper clipping that triggers painful memories. Sam knows the article could tell him more; the trouble is, Sam can't read. He enlists new classmate Caroline, an avid reader, to help. Giff's empathy and affection for these two characters is palpable, and her prose, spare yet descriptive, is compelling.
Kirkus Reviews
This psychological mystery explores a child's deepest genetic need for belonging. Sam has darkly unfathomable dreams and vague memories: a cat, a boat, a storm, a bold castle, a mean woman, the number 11. As he turns 11, questioning his own identity, these dreams and memories drive him to take devious, even dangerous, risks to uncover the truth. His sleuthing is thwarted by his inability to read—literally—the clues he finds in concealed papers and on the Internet. He is joined in his search by Caroline, another seeker, who reads voraciously but is never in one school long enough to achieve acceptance. Together the two form a friendship, building a castle as a classroom project and exposing secrets that empower Sam to confront his family about his clouded history. In a satisfyingly poignant conclusion, both children stand at the threshold of inclusion and kinship. An engrossing examination of a profound theme in the deft hands of a discerning author. (Fiction. 9-12)
School Library Journal
Gr 5-7-Sam is haunted by the symbolism of the number "11." Just two straight lines he reasons-could be a number of a street address, two straight trees against the sky or, maybe, two towering spires of a castle. His upcoming 11th birthday nudges him; there's something he's forgotten. Searching the attic for hidden birthday presents, he uncovers a secret that overshadows his irrational fear of "11." A newspaper clipping reveals his three-year-old face. Sam sounds out one word, "Missing," but he can't read the other clues. Suddenly his daily frustration turns consuming. Sam is smart and creative. He's learned to compensate for his dyslexia. "Caroline New Girl" is a "reader," and when it's time to pick partners for the class project on medieval times, he chooses her. "One thing-.Don't think I'm going to be friends. I won't be here long enough," she warns. The two strike up a friendship of convenience that develops into a genuine bond of support, respect, and acceptance. But with his newfound friendship come suspicions about his loving Grandpa. Sadly, it's Grandpa's guilt over innocent mistakes that gives power to the secrets. The unraveling of Sam's mysterious past will intrigue readers. Children will appreciate the fast friendships, their caregivers' motives, and the struggles of the underdog. Sam, Caroline, and Grandpa ring true with realistically conflicting and unsettling emotions. Set in the western part of northern New York against a rich backdrop of geographic detail and cultural diversity, this novel will be thoroughly enjoyed.-Alison Follos, North Country School, Lake Placid, NY Copyright 2008 Reed Business Information.
Starred Review for Publishers Weekly

The day before he turns 11, Sam searches the attic for hidden birthday presents and discovers more than he bargained for: a newspaper clipping showing a photograph of him as a missing child. In this exquisitely rendered story of self-discovery, Giff (Lily’s Crossing) creates what she calls a “jig-saw puzzle” of a book, showing readers how Sam pieces together artifacts and his own flashbacks to find out whether Mack, the man he has lived with for as long as he can remember, really is his grandfather. Learning the truth requires research, and Sam, a special-needs student who has trouble reading, solicits help from Caroline, a new girl at school. As they embark on two projects—building a medieval castle for social studies and solving the mystery of Sam’s past—they also construct a solid friendship, despite Caroline’s parents’ plans for another, imminent move. Although the premise echoes that of Caroline Cooney’s The Face on the Milk Carton, the similarity ends there. Evoking an entirely different mood and set of circumstances, this intimate story realistically examines friendship, family secrets and the struggles of a learning-disabled child trying to make sense of the world. Given the author’s expertise at developing sympathetic characters and creating a suspenseful plot, readers will find the complexity of Sam’s vulnerabilities to be as intriguing as the unfolding enigma of his past. Ages 8-13. (Jan.)

Voice of Youth Advocates
A secret search for hidden birthday presents leads almost-eleven Sam to the attic where he finds a newspaper photo of himself, age three, captioned "Missing" and with a different last name. Memories ignited by this discovery cause him to fearfully wonder about his true identity. Is Mack really his grandfather? Might someone take him away from Mack and friends Onji and Anima, whom he loves? And why does he have an indefinable anxiety about the number eleven? Although the resource teacher is kind, Sam has given up on reading. Who can help him decipher the clipping and piece together his other clues? Caroline, the new girl, warns him she will not be around long enough to be friends, but agrees to help him while at the same time they build a castle for a class project. Sam's extraordinary talent for working with wood has been nurtured by Mack, and the castle the two children build reveals yet another of Sam's memories. When Mack sees the finished castle for the first time, he realizes it is time to tell Sam how they came to be together. With elegance bestowed by the love and understanding of young hearts, Giff crafts an affecting story. As in her Newbery Honor-winner Lily's Crossing (Delacorte, 1997), two characters are needy in very different ways, yet each finds firmer footing at last through the shared journey of their friendship. The novel is a must-have for school and public libraries where young readers will see themselves and their friends in Sam and Caroline.-Marla K. Unruh.
Word Count: 28,964
Reading Level: 4.1
Interest Level: 3-6
Accelerated Reader: reading level: 4.1 / points: 4.0 / quiz: 120111 / grade: Middle Grades
Reading Counts!: reading level:3.4 / points:8.0 / quiz:Q43026
Lexile: 600L
Guided Reading Level: U
Fountas & Pinnell: U

Never mind being afraid of eleven right now. Tomorrow was his birthday. And where had they hidden his presents? Sam hadn't found a single one yet. He'd checked every drawer, every cabinet, under the beds, and even outside in the shed.
Only one place was left to search.
Could he do it?
He was skinny but tough. Of course he could.
He didn't bother with socks, just sneakers, and pulled on his jacket over his pajamas. He lifted his bedroom window that was two stories up, squinted out at the dark world, and felt for the pipe against the wall.
It was a crazy way to get to the attic, but the only way tonight. The attic _pull-_down door was in his grandfather's room next to his, and Mack was sound asleep by now.
Sam grinned; he pictured himself hopping around on Mack's bed, yanking down the overhead door, which would graze Mack's nose while Sam boosted himself up to the attic.
"What? What?" Mack would mutter in his sleep.
A riot. Too bad it had to be the pipe.
Sam swung himself out the window and gripped the pipe with his hands and knees. It was colder than he expected, icy. Imagine if Mack awoke in the morning to see him plastered to the side of the house, frozen solid.
He inched his way up to the attic window. Below, just beyond the shed, was the river, a narrow band of water; it slipped over the rocks, then swirled away so the rocks reappeared like turtle backs, shiny, ridged, and black.
It made him dizzy to look down. He closed his eyes. People who drove along the road in front hardly realized that a finger of the Mohawk River bubbled along behind his building. All they saw were the windows of the three stores: Mack's Woodworking Shop; Onji's Deli; Kerala House, Anima's Indian restaurant; and their apartments above.
Sam leaned his head against his raised arms and felt the stone wall with the tips of his sneakers.
Maybe he should scramble back inside.
No, he was tough.
Slowly he turned his head; the pipe vibrated. Not a light on in any of the three apartment windows. They slept like hibernating bears.
He boosted himself up a couple of feet. Night Cat was somewhere below, meowing up at him, Night Cat, ancient, crabby, waiting to be let in downstairs. "Wait a minute, will you?" he whispered. "You want to wake everyone?"
He raised one hand to feel the blistered paint of the wooden sill, and stretched to press his palm against the attic window. It slid up easily under his hand. Lucky. He hadn't even thought it might be locked. He threw himself inside as the pipe swung wildly and the cat meowed below.
Sam reached into his pocket for the flashlight and switched it on. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been up here. One Christmas he'd gone into Mack's room, climbed on the bed, and pulled down the attic door to peer up into the darkness. Mack had swung him off the bed, laughing. "How do you get yourself all over the place?"
Sam's flashlight threw shadows across the floor in front of him. He angled it up: jackets on hooks that looked like old men in a row, a jumble of boots crisscrossed over each other, but nothing that looked like a birthday present.
He tiptoed across the room; Mack was sleeping just below. Under the window was another box. Ah, maybe--
Mack's presents were the best. But the box was metal and locked, too old to be interesting. He leaned over anyway, and spotted a newspaper clipping sticking out of the edge. He tugged at it but saw that it would rip before it cameloose.
He crouched down: large black letters on top, a picture of a boy underneath. The nubby sweater with the zipper down the front looked familiar.
He caught his breath. He was the boy, but so much younger.
Such a little kid in the picture, three years old maybe. Why was he in the newspaper?
He ran his fingers over the words. He couldn't read most of them. It was a pain, not being able to read. More than a pain. But actually, the top word was easy: the ing stood out at the end--hadn't Mrs. Waring in the Resource Room told them a hundred times to look for groups like that? And the beginning, easy to sound: Miss--
He'd been missing?
Under the picture was his name: Sam. He realized he'd been holding his breath, and let it out in a rush. The last name was Bell. Sam Bell.
Such an easy word, an easy name, but not his. Not MacKenzie.
Suddenly he was cold, so cold up there with the open window in back of him, and the early-April wind blowing in against his shoulders.
There had to be a mistake. He'd know if he'd been missing, even as a little kid, wouldn't he? He searched around in his mind, trying to remember something, anything, and then, so clearly he could almost see it, there was a room with other children, one of them a boy, flapping his hands, wanting something that belonged to Sam. Sam had clung to the toy, holding on and holding on until--
Until what?
Another memory: churning water, Night Cat on the edge of a boat, back arched, soaked, and the sound of foghorns.
Where had that come from?
Sam stood up, mouth dry, heart pounding. He heard the creak of Mack's bed underneath, and didn't move until everything was still.
He had to go back down the side of the building. He went out the attic window and grabbed the freezing pipe, sliding faster than he meant to. The pipe rattled, shook, screws popped. He went past his window, trying to stop, but couldn't, not until he reached the ground. His feet hit the dirt underneath hard enough to jar his teeth, leaving the faint taste of blood in his mouth.
Head down, shoulders hunched, he went around to the front, passing the restaurant on the end of the building, then the deli. The parking lot was empty except for Mack's pickup truck, Anima's small blue Toyota, and Onji's van with a picture of a guy taking a bite out of a hero sandwich. Night Cat was waiting at the door.
Sam fumbled in his jacket pocket for the key and went into the furniture repair shop, the cat padding silently behind him.
He walked through the workroom, threading his way around the tables. Cedar shavings crackled under his feet. Ordinarily he loved the smell of cedar, the feeling of the wood, loved the workroom, and loved Mack, who'd taught him how to cut, and join, and smooth. Mack, who'd helped him finish the birdhouses out back with their pointy roofs, and that bench down by the water for Anima.
Sam Bell?
Maybe he'd even been kidnapped?
By Mack? And maybe Mack wasn't even his grandfather?
Ridiculous. Why would Mack want to kidnap a kid who had trouble with reading right from the start? A kid who was into everything, breaking things? "A klutzy kid," Anima always said, smiling.
But maybe Mack hadn't realized Sam would turn out like this?
And suppose he really was missing? Suppose he didn't belong here?
Standing at the worktable Mack had set up for him years ago, he ran his hands over the scarred wood, seeing Mack's hands on his as he carved a wooden sign to hang over the table. Mack had helped him with the words, sam's place. Mack nodding, smiling, saying, "Yes, that's the way."
What would he do without Mack?
He didn't want to be anywhere else but this place with Mack, with Onji in the deli, and Anima with her rope of hair, her hands on his shoulders, laughing. He thought of his bedroom upstairs, the river out back, the small boat in the shed.
The article was a mistake. Or he'd misunderstood. Of course, a mistake.
He'd go right upstairs now and wake Mack, ask--
But suppose it was true, and he had to go back to wherever he came from, to some strange place?
No, he'd just forget about the whole thing.
He hesitated. What about his picture? Missing. That was what the newspaper clipping had said, and he had to believe it.
And what about that name? He whispered it, Sam Bell, trying to make it fit, a name he'd never heard before.
It was a name he had to find out about. Somehow.

Excerpted from Eleven by Patricia Reilly Giff
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

Sam must solve the mystery of who he really is.

Sam is almost 11 when he discovers a locked box in the attic above his grandfather Mack’s room, and a piece of paper that says he was kidnapped. There are lots of other words, but Sam has always had trouble reading. He’s desperate to find out who he is, and if his beloved Mack is really his grandfather. At night he’s haunted by dreams of a big castle and a terrifying escape on a boat. Who can he trust to help him read the documents that could unravel the mystery? Then he and the new girl, Caroline, are paired up to work on a school project, building a castle in Mack’s woodworking shop. Caroline loves to read, and she can help. But she’s moving soon, and the two must hurry to discover the truth about Sam.

★ “This psychological mystery explores a child’s deepest genetic need for belonging. An engrossing examination of a profound theme in the deft hands of a discerning author.”—Kirkus Reviews, Starred

★ “Exquisitely rendered story of self-discovery. . . . Given the author’s expertise at developing sympathetic characters and creating a suspenseful plot, readers will find the complexity of Sam’ vulnerabilities to be as
intriguing as the unfolding enigma of his past.”—Publishers Weekly, Starred

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