Rosie shrugged. "If you want. I think I'll do it on the front steps. It's stuffy in here."

As she walked toward the front door, I called home.

Fortunately Janine answered. "Kishi residence."

"Hi, Janine, ifs me," I said.

"Hi, me," answered Janine. That's her idea of humor.

"Remember that favor we talked about yesterday?" I asked.

"Yup," Janine replied. "What's the address, 477 Elm?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be right over."

Thank goodness for Janine. Sometimes it really pays to have a brain for a sister.

I took my backpack and headed for the porch slo-o-o-o-wty (I hoped Janine would arrive soon and I wouldn't be stuck answering questions).

Rosie was sitting on the stoop, hunched over a textbook. She had put on a pair of tortoise-shell glasses that made her look even smarter than usual.

An old wicker chair was off to one side. I sat in it, pulled out my sketch pad, and began drawing.

Rosie didn't even look at me. Obviously she had given up thinking I knew anything.

Janine showed up around four-fifteen. I hopped out of the chair and said, "Rosie, this is my sister, Janine."

"I know," said Rosie. (I knew she'd say that.)

"Hi," Janine said shyly.

"Hi," replied Rosie. "You're good in science?"

"Pretty good," said Janine.

That was an understatement! "She's won all kinds of awards," I blurted out.

"Yeah?" said Rosie.

Janine sat down next to her. "Sort of. What do you need help in?"

For the next forty minutes or so, I felt as if I were in a foreign country. Finally I returned to my chair. I couldn't understand half of what was being said. Janine, in her glasses, was explaining things about animal migration and habitats. Rosie, in her glasses, was nodding and asking intelligent-sounding questions.