Who is telling it, and how far to trust them
Grade 9 Reading Worksheet - Challenge Me
Circle the best answer.
Read this first
The Model Ship (story)
[1] When I was eleven, I spent February building a model sailing ship from a kit, gluing hundreds of tiny wooden pieces on the shelf above my desk. [2] My cousin Ren, who was seven that winter and stayed with us on weekends, was not allowed to touch the ship, and I made sure everyone knew it. [3] On the last Sunday, I stood on my chair to fit the final mast, leaned one elbow on the edge of the shelf to steady myself, and heard the shelf give a small, dry creak. [4] I fitted the mast and went to the kitchen for paint, and when I came back, Ren was standing in the doorway and the ship was on the floor in three pieces. [5] I shouted, I am sorry to say, for a long time, and Ren cried and said over and over, "I didn't touch it, I was just looking."
[6] My aunt came in, looked at the shelf and said quietly that a shelf with one loose bracket could tip a ship all by itself. [7] I did not want to hear about brackets; I wanted someone to be in trouble, and Ren was the person standing closest. [8] For years, at family dinners, I told it as the day Ren broke my ship, and nobody argued, least of all Ren. [9] Last spring, helping my uncle take that shelf down, I noticed that the left bracket hung from a single screw, the other hole worn smooth and wide.
[10] I remembered the dry creak under my elbow, and the way the ship had sat on the very edge of the shelf, where I had pushed it to make room for the glue. [11] Ren had been in the doorway, a good ten feet from the shelf, when I came back into the room. [12] I understand now that I needed it to be Ren's fault, because the other answer was that the ship had fallen from a shelf I had been leaning on all month. [13] Next weekend Ren and I are building a new kit together, on the desk.
Jun judges the version told at family dinners in The Model Ship (sentence 8). How far should the reader trust that version, and why?
- Not far: the narrator was too young that winter to remember clearly which person stood where.
- Not far: it rests on Ren standing nearby, while the creak and the worn bracket point to the shelf.
- Not a word of it: a narrator who blamed a seven-year-old for years cannot be believed about the creak or the bracket.
- Fully: the narrator came back to find Ren in the doorway and the ship on the floor, which settles it.
Luz writes what the older narrator understands now in The Model Ship. What does the older narrator see that the eleven-year-old did not?
- That the uncle had known about the loose screw for years and had kept quiet to protect the narrator.
- That blaming Ren was easier than admitting the narrator's own leaning made the ship fall.
- That the left bracket was hanging from a single screw when the shelf came down last spring.
- That Ren broke the ship but was too young that winter to understand how much the model mattered.
The Creek Bank (story)
[1] When I was nine, everyone on Linden Court agreed that Mr. Okafor, the retired engineer in the gray house, was the grumpiest man in town, and I agreed loudest of all. [2] His back yard ran down to Miller Creek, where we spent summer afternoons building stick dams and racing leaf boats. [3] Every time we drifted near the bend behind his fence, he would throw open the back door and shout, "Back from the edge, back from the edge," until we scattered upstream. [4] Pia and I decided that the old engineer simply could not stand children having fun near the gray house, and we made up a song about the shouting. [5] One July afternoon, I saw Mr. Okafor kneeling by the bank with a measuring tape, poking a stick into the dirt and writing in a notebook.
[6] I told Pia that the grump was probably measuring how far our dams were from the gray house to complain to our parents, and Pia agreed. [7] That fall, an orange plastic fence appeared along the bend, with a county sign that said "Bank unstable, keep back," and we blamed him for that too. [8] In March, after a week of heavy rain, a slab of the bank at the bend slid into Miller Creek with a sound like a door slamming, and the spot where we used to stand was gone. [9] Nobody was there, because it was a school morning and the orange fence had kept everyone away for months.
[10] At the time, I thought mostly about how lucky Mr. Okafor was that the slide had not reached his garden. [11] Years later, studying erosion in science class, I recognized that bank in a textbook photo: a ledge of soil with the water cutting away the ground beneath it. [12] I understand now that the shouting, the measuring tape and the notebook were all the same thing, a man who had spent his working life studying how ground gives way, trying to keep children off a ledge that could not hold them. [13] I wish we had stopped singing that song much sooner.
Milo judges how the nine-year-old pictures Mr. Okafor in The Creek Bank. How far should the reader trust that picture, and why?
- Trust the reported actions, the shouting, the tape and the notebook, but not the claim that he could not stand children having fun.
- Trust the judgment that he was a grump, but doubt the details about the tape and the notebook, which seem made up.
- Not a word of it: a narrator who made up a song about a neighbor cannot be believed about the tape or the notebook.
- Fully: the whole street agreed that Mr. Okafor was the grumpiest man in town, so the children read him correctly.
Noah rebuilds what really happened in The Creek Bank from the narrator's own details. Which account fits every detail?
- Mr. Okafor had once watched another bank fall at work and shouted because the children reminded him of that day.
- Mr. Okafor shouted because the bank was weak, though he also wanted the dams kept away from his garden.
- Mr. Okafor could not stand children having fun near the gray house and measured the dams in order to complain to the parents.
- Mr. Okafor measured a bank the creek was cutting away and shouted to keep the children off it before it fell.
Ren writes what the older narrator understands now in The Creek Bank. What does the older narrator see that the nine-year-old did not?
- That the bank was unstable and people must keep back, as the county sign along the bend says.
- That Mr. Okafor had wanted to be friends with the children from the start but was too shy to say so.
- That Mr. Okafor was lucky the slide in March did not reach the garden behind the gray house.
- That the shouting, the tape and the notebook were one thing: an expert trying to keep children off a ledge that could not hold them.
The Returned Letters (story)
[1] The summer I was twelve, my best friend Kira moved to Tucson, and we promised to write real letters every week, on paper, because email felt too easy. [2] I wrote first, four pages about the Ohio heat, and I copied the address from the note Kira had pressed into my hand beside the moving truck. [3] Two weeks passed without an answer, then three, and I decided that Kira had found new friends in Arizona and had no time left for someone so far away. [4] I wrote a second letter anyway, shorter and a little cold, and a third, which was just one line asking whether we were still friends. [5] In August, all three letters came back in one bundle, stamped in purple ink with the words "No such number," and I threw the bundle into my desk drawer without looking closely.
[6] I was sure Kira had written the wrong address on purpose, which was a strange thing to believe, but at twelve it felt like the one explanation that fit. [7] That fall, a letter finally arrived from Tucson, four pages long, asking why I had never written back and giving the address again at the top. [8] I read it twice, still angry, and then reread the top line, where the house number was printed carefully in block letters: 1427 Saguaro Lane. [9] I took the returned bundle out of the drawer and saw my own neat handwriting on every envelope: 1247 Saguaro Lane.
[10] The note from the moving truck was still in my desk, and the number on it, written fast in pencil, could have been read either way. [11] I wrote back that night, eight pages, and I did not mention the bundle or the summer I had spent deciding we were no longer friends. [12] I can see now that I read a smudged number the way I read everything that summer, as proof that I was being left behind, when all that had gone missing was a pair of switched digits. [13] Kira and I still write to each other, on paper, and I check every address twice.
Pia judges the twelve-year-old's belief about the address in The Returned Letters (sentence 6). How far should the reader trust it, and why?
- Not far: the narrator calls the belief strange, and the pencil note could be read either way.
- Fully: the letters came back stamped "No such number," so the address Kira gave must have been wrong on purpose.
- Not far: the narrator did not look closely at the bundle and so cannot know what number was on the envelopes.
- Trust the feeling that Kira gave a wrong address on purpose, but doubt the two house numbers, which come from memory.
Zee writes what the older narrator understands now in The Returned Letters. What does the older narrator see that the twelve-year-old did not?
- That the number on the moving-truck note, written fast in pencil, could have been read either way.
- That the narrator had stopped writing after moving day, as Kira believed when the fall letter asked why.
- That a fear of being left behind made a smudged number look like proof of it.
- That Kira had found new friends in Tucson but kept writing out of a sense of duty to an old friend.
The Last Race of Summer (story)
[1] When I was eight, the Saturday race on Holloway Hill was a tradition: four laps of the block, older kids against younger ones, and a cardboard medal for the winner, cut out each week by Mrs. Alvarez from number twelve. [2] Noah and Bo, who were thirteen, won every race that summer, and I usually finished near the back, red-faced and second to last. [3] On the last Saturday in August, I wore new running shoes, and I could feel the difference from the first stride, as if the pavement had turned to springs. [4] On the third lap, Noah stopped to retie a shoelace that I am now fairly sure was already tied, and Bo slowed down to point at a hawk that I never managed to see. [5] I passed them both at the bottom of the hill and did not look back once.
[6] Behind me I heard Bo say something to Noah and both of them laugh, which I took to mean they were annoyed that the new shoes had made me so fast. [7] I crossed the chalk line first, and Mrs. Alvarez hung the medal around my neck while the whole street clapped louder than I had ever heard it. [8] Noah and Bo arrived a few seconds later, barely breathing hard, and shook my hand. [9] For a year I told everyone that the right shoes could win any race, and the next August, when I came in second to last again, I blamed the shoes for wearing out.
[10] Years later, at a party on Holloway Hill, Mrs. Alvarez mentioned the custom of the last race of summer, when the oldest runners found a reason to slow down for a young runner who had never won. [11] I remembered the shoelace that was already tied and the hawk I never saw, and the laughter behind me sounded very different. [12] I still have the cardboard medal, and I understand now that it was given to me twice, once by Mrs. Alvarez and once by the two runners who let me pass.
Jun judges the eight-year-old's claim that the new shoes won The Last Race of Summer. How far should the reader trust it, and why?
- Not far: the narrator finished second to last again the next August, which shows the shoes had worn out.
- Not far: the claim comes from an eight-year-old's pride, and the narrator's own details, the tied shoelace and the unseen hawk, point elsewhere.
- Not a word of it: a narrator who boasted about shoes for a year cannot be believed about the shoelace or the hawk.
- Trust the claim that the new shoes made the difference, but doubt the shoelace and the hawk, which are half remembered.
Kira rebuilds what really happened in The Last Race of Summer from the narrator's own details. Which account fits every detail?
- Noah and Bo let the narrator win the first race of that summer, and the narrator kept winning after that.
- Mrs. Alvarez had asked Noah and Bo before the race to slow down, because the narrator had cried after losing.
- Noah and Bo slowed on purpose, by custom, so a young runner who had never won could take the last race.
- Noah and Bo slowed down on the third lap, and then the new shoes carried the narrator past both of them.
Luz writes what the older narrator understands now in The Last Race of Summer. What does the older narrator see that the eight-year-old did not?
- That the right shoes can carry a slower runner past faster ones, as the medal on the last Saturday showed.
- That Mrs. Alvarez mentioned the custom of the last race at a party on Holloway Hill years later.
- That the oldest runners slow down each year for a runner who has not yet won, as Mrs. Alvarez explains.
- That the medal was given twice: by Mrs. Alvarez and by the two runners who let the narrator pass.