Countdown

The story of a formative year in 12-year-old Franny Chapman's life, and the life of a nation facing the threat of nuclear war.

Franny Chapman just wants some peace. But that's hard to get when her best friend is feuding with her, her sister has disappeared, and her uncle is fighting an old war in his head. Her saintly younger brother is no help, and the cute boy across the street only complicates things. Worst of all, everyone is walking around just waiting for a bomb to fall. It's 1962, and it seems that the whole country is living in fear. When President Kennedy goes on television to say that Russia is sending nuclear missiles to Cuba, it only gets worse. Franny doesn't know how to deal with what's going on in the world -- no more than she knows how to deal with what's going on with her family and friends. But somehow she's got to make it through. Featuring a captivating story interspersed with footage from 1962, award-winning author Deborah Wiles has created a documentary novel that will put you right alongside Franny as she navigates a dangerous time in both her history and our history. | | Praise for Deborah Wiles:Love, Ruby Lavender"Wiles hascreated a timeless story of life and death, the bond between grandparent and grandchild, and the reality that, regardless, "life does go on." -BooklistEach Little Bird That SingsUnique characters, inventive names, a fresh voice and an honest portrayal of life and death are a match made in heavena memorable tribute to the joys of living." -Kirkus Reviews | Deborah Wiles is the author of the picture book Freedom Summer and the novels: Love, Ruby Lavender; The Aurora County All-Stars; Each Little Bird That Sings, a National Book Award finalist; and A Long Line of Cakes. She is also the author of the documentary novels Countdown; Revolution, a National Book Award Finalist; and Anthem. She has vivid memories of ducking and covering under her school desk during air raid drills at the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis. She also sang in the Glee Club, was a champion speller, and hated Field Day. Deborah lives in Atlanta, Georgia. You can visit her on the web at deborahwiles.com. | I am eleven years old, and I am invisible.I am sitting at my desk, in my classroom, on a perfect autumn afternoon - Friday, October 19, 1962. My desk is in the farthest row, next to the windows. I squint into the sunshine and watch a brilliant gold leaf fall from a spindly old tree by the sidewalk, and then I open Makers of America to page forty-seven because it's social studies time. I love social studies, love everything about it, and most of all I love to read aloud.Mrs. Rodriguez, my teacher, has skipped me twice this week - twice! - when we read out loud during social studies, going down each row, desk after desk. I am determined not to let that happen again.Mrs. Rodriguez wears square shoes with thick soles, and glasses on a beaded string around her neck. After conferences last week, I heard Mom describe her to Daddy as thick-waisted. Her fingers are the strong, blunt kind that put me in mind of my grandmother, Miss Mattie, who runs a store in Mississippi and is always hauling around boxes of boots or barrels of pickles. Miss Mattie's fingernails are cut straight across, but Mrs. Rodriguez has short, pointed nails that look like little triangles. \I thought she liked me. When we practiced duck-and-cover under our desks the first week of school, my headband popped off my head and I didn't even try to retrieve it - I just kept my head down and let my hair fall all over my face. Mrs. Rodriguez complimented me right in front of everyone and told me I was a perfect turtle.