Eyes on the Sky

Eyes on the Sky

From acclaimed author J. Kasper Kramer comes a middle grade novel that’s “part gritty historical fiction, part The War of the Worlds ” ( Kirkus Reviews ) about a budding young scientist in 1947 Roswell, New Mexico, who fears her weather balloon experiment has been mistaken for a flying saucer! Nothing ever happens in Roswell, New Mexico. Dorothy should know. She’s lived her whole life on a rural ranch nearby , surrounded by the difficult memories from her family’s struggles to make ends meet during the Great Depression years ago. At least her older brother Dwight is home safe from the war. Unfortunately, he’s no better to talk to than her ancient pet sheep, Geraldine. Thankfully Dorothy has her experiments, like launching rockets off the top of her windmill. But one stormy night, she sends a gigantic weather balloon into the stratosphere—and an incredible blast lights up the sky. Suddenly, all the newspapers feature a flying saucer crash in their headlines and the sleepy town of Roswell is alight with gossip and speculation. But what if the so-called extraterrestrial vessel is actually Dorothy’s weather balloon? When FBI agents start asking questions, she begins to suspect there’s something out there, something dangerous. Either the government is after her for causing a national scandal…or aliens are real! “Part gritty historical fiction, part The War of the Worlds , the novel uses adventure and science fiction to make some pointed observations about the effects of war. . . . Dorothy, Hugo, and the place they call home are vividly rendered. . . . A courageous hero and some unexpected twists make for a compelling read.” -- Kirkus Reviews "Takes off with the incorporation of science fiction elements, and the meticulous, expertly rendered 1947 desert setting enhances its thrilling conclusion.” -- Publishers Weekly J. Kasper Kramer is the author of the acclaimed novel The Story That Cannot Be Told as well as The List of Unspeakable Fears , Eyes on the Sky , and Serpent on the Mountain . She’s an author and English professor in Chattanooga, Tennessee. She has a master’s degree in creative writing and once upon a time lived in Japan, where she taught at an international school. When she’s not curled up with a book, Kramer loves researching lost fairy tales, playing video games, and fostering kittens. Visit her at JKasperKramer.com. 1. Fire in the Sky FIRE IN THE SKY IT WAS A FANTASTIC IDEA. The best I’d had yet by miles. The only problem was that it might get me killed. Lightning streaked across the black New Mexico sky, illuminating the desert grasslands below in an otherworldly, bright glow. One Albuquerque. Two Albuquerque. Three Albuquerque. Four Albuquerque. Five Albuquerque. Thunder grumbled in the distance. “A mile,” I said under my breath. The storm clouds were fierce and the wind smelled of coming rain. Violent gusts yanked at my hair, twisting curls in front of my eyes. I was thirty feet above the ground, precariously balanced on the wooden platform at the top of our old, rickety windmill. But I was too excited to be scared. Pulling my protective aviator goggles down over my face, I grinned. Hammered halfway into a board at my feet were several long, bent, rusted nails. Tied to the nails were ropes. Tied to the ropes was a huge, gray rubber weather balloon, as big as I was. It had a shining metal tail composed of scrapyard junk—a design of my own making. Lightning flashed again and the balloon tugged against its restraints, wanting desperately to fly. One Albuquerque. Two Albuquerque. Three Albuquerque. Four Albuquerque. Thunder roared and rumbled across the flat, dry earth. To be clear, I hadn’t planned on risking my life that evening. In fact, I rarely ever planned any of the dangerous things that I did. The experiment itself had been in the works for some time, of course. I’d begun gathering the necessary materials the same day I’d spotted the military-grade weather balloon floating lazily past our ranch. Getting ready to send the apparatus back up into the stratosphere had taken weeks of preparation. But conducting the launch in the middle of the night during the worst storm of the summer? That hadn’t been on the agenda. An image of my brother, his face red with anger, appeared in my head, but before I could dwell on it, lightning sparked through the sky. I forced myself to swallow my emotions. One Albuquerque. Two Albuquerque. Three Albuquerque. The wind howled. The tower swayed. I jumped when thunder growled. I wasn’t scared, but my nerves were as frayed as the cuffs of my trousers. When a terrible screeching noise began at my back, I instinctively ducked, looking over my shoulder. The windmill’s great rusty sails, half-missing, had started to turn. For the first time that night, I felt a moment of doubt. If the tower’s ancient brake gave out, the spinning blades could come curving at me like a buzz saw. Perhaps even worse, they could coll