Chirp: Chapters 1–7

Packing the moving truck the day after school ended had been a hassle, but she really was glad to be moving back to Vermont.

Mia’s family could go back to their old tradition—a picnic on the waterfront with sandwiches and Dad’s “pyrotechnic brownies” with chocolate frosting and red, white, and blue sprinkles.

Maybe that’s why she opened the brochure for Launch Camp for Young Entrepreneurs. “I might try this one. I could learn stuff to help Gram with her cricket farm.”

That was the only time Mia had ever seen her grumpy. She’d looked frail, too.

She was standing on a chair, swinging a broom over her head and swearing up at the rafters, where two seagulls perched on a beam by the window.

“Aw, Mom...those birds aren’t out to get you. This is just a little mishap.”
“Mishap? No.” Gram pointed her broom at the birds. “This is sabotage.”

When she landed, a short, sturdy man with spiky gray hair was backing away from her with his hands up, laughing. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Bob Jacobson. I run this zany moose company. Is Sylvia your grandmother?”

It was full of third-grade homework papers and dried-up cicada shells from the trees behind Gram’s house and gymnastics trophies from her old team in Vermont.

Mia rummaged through the box until she found some pictures.

Gram had been the first female entomology professor at the University of Vermont.

She adjusted the zebra-striped headband that was trying to hold her blond curls out of her face and turned to Mia. “Sorry. Eli’s obsessed with KicksFinder and tries to enlist everyone to work with us. I’m Clover, by the way. That’s Nick.”

“That’s a great idea,” Zoya said. “Start-ups need to begin small, but it’s important to innovate and grow. You’re thinking about ideas for that?”

On Tuesday, Zoya bounced into Launch Camp and started the day with a presentation on business plans. “You need a game plan,” she said. “Something to share with potential investors. But a business plan is also important for the entrepreneur. When my parents emigrated from Iran in the seventies, they opened a bakery. Their business plan allowed them to start off small and grow. Now they employ forty people in Los Angeles.”

On Tuesday, Zoya bounced into Launch Camp and started the day with a presentation on business plans. “You need a game plan,” she said. “Something to share with potential investors. But a business plan is also important for the entrepreneur. When my parents emigrated from Iran in the seventies, they opened a bakery. Their business plan allowed them to start off small and grow. Now they employ forty people in Los Angeles.”

“Because I’m at UVM, getting my graduate degree in sustainable innovation—studying how businesses can grow in ways that don’t harm the environment. Now put your chair down so you don’t crack your head open, and let’s get going on your plans.” She passed out copies of a template. “I know most of you are already in the thick of it, making products and debugging software, but take time today to jot down ideas.”

Mia cut a slice of bread and blew on it to cool it. She took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “It’s good,” she said, “but maybe a tiny bit gritty?”

“Guess I was a little too enthusiastic. I’ll have to tweak the flour-to-cricket-powder ratio.”

“Guess I was a little too enthusiastic. I’ll have to tweak the flour-to-cricket-powder ratio.”

Gram looked at Mia and sighed. “Sorry you had to be my guinea pig. Other people’s grandkids get nice reliable chocolate chip cookies, and you’re stuck testing cricket recipes.”

Gram raised her eyebrows as she flicked on her turn signal. “That’s an interesting thought. We can’t have people traipsing through the warehouse, but I could set up a display in the lobby with bins of crickets at different stages in their development.”

He tripped over Syd, who yelped indignantly, but Daniel didn’t stop until he was across the parking lot.

Now another girl was on the beam, teetering as she got ready to do a back walkover.

At first, it was cool to see the equipment from the show, but within seconds, Mia felt overwhelmed.

There were a dozen kids climbing ladders and poles, shimmying along pipes that hung from the ceiling, and bouncing on mini-trampolines. It felt loud and chaotic and dangerous.

“We have to find the right way to say it.” Clover helped herself to a few more. “A crunchy, nutty, earthy snack!”