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107 pages

English

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A poignant middle-grade story about loss and finding family from the point of view of a newly adopted kitten "An absolute delight, from beginning to end." -Anne Ursu, author of National Book Award nominee The Real Boy "Elvis's journey is sweet and funny and profound." -Eliot Schrefer, National Book Award finalist Most shelter animals dream of going home with a forever family. But for Elvis, being chosen by Mrs. Pemberton is a nightmare. He's been separated from his sister, Etta, and is determined to get back to the shelter to find her. In spite of himself, Elvis becomes curious about ten-year-old Georgina Pemberton, who builds LEGO skyscrapers in her bedroom while navigating her parents' separation. The longer he's in his new home, the more he starts recognizing new feelings: admiration for Georgina's creations, affection for the other pets, and even empathy for the Pembertons-despite their inability to listen. As Georgina sets out to build her most important skyscrapers yet-the Twin Towers-Elvis realizes that maybe both humans and animals can take a page from Georgina's Big Book of American Architecture and "build a world of their own choosing," even if the choices aren't what they'd initially expected.

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Publié par	ABRAMS BOOKS
Date de parution	24 août 2021
Nombre de lectures	2
EAN13	9781647002015
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	3 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0764€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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PUBLISHER S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
LEGO, the Minifigure, and the Brick are trademarks of the LEGO Group, which does not sponsor, authorize, or endorse this book.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Riddiough, Lisa Frenkel, author. | Mueller, Olivia Chin, illustrator. Title: Elvis and the world as it stands / Lisa Frenkel Riddiough, Olivia Chin Mueller. Description: New York : Amulet Books, 2021. | Audience: Ages 8 to 12 | Summary: After being sadly brought home from the animal shelter Elvis learns to appreciate his new family, especially ten-year-old Georgina Pemberton who builds skyscraper buildings in her bedroom, and Elvis realizes that both humans and animals can build a world of their own choosing, even if the choices are not what they had initially expected. Identifiers: LCCN 2021005887 | ISBN 9781419752391 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781419752407 (paperback) | ISBN 9781647002015 (ebook) Subjects: CYAC: Building-Fiction. | Family life-Fiction. | Self-reliance-Fiction. | Architecture-Fiction. Classification: LCC PZ7.1.R535 Elv 2021 | DDC [Fic]-dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021005887
eISBN 978-1-64700-201-5
Text copyright 2021 Lisa Frenkel Riddiough
Illustrations copyright 2021 Olivia Chin Mueller
Book design by Jade Rector
Published in 2021 by Amulet Books, an imprint of ABRAMS. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.
Amulet Books are available at special discounts when purchased in quantity for premiums and promotions as well as fundraising or educational use. Special editions can also be created to specification. For details, contact specialsales@abramsbooks.com or the address below.
Amulet Books is a registered trademark of Harry N. Abrams, Inc.
ABRAMS The Art of Books 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007 abramsbooks.com
For James and Julia

Chapter 1

Ah, afternoon naps! Always interrupted by Etta s prickly paws, sticking and stabbing their way from the top of my head to the tip of my calico tail.
Hey! I say. You re treading in your sleep again!
What? Huh? Etta says in her scratchy voice. Elvis. Let me sleep. Such a feline.
The click click click of the wheels on Carly s cart echoes through the shelter. It s music to my ears, because I m starving. And everyone knows Carly s cart means dinner.
Etta! Wake up, I say.
I peer through the glass of our condo and watch Carly roll up to the whiteboard and look at the calendar. She grabs that stinky black pen and puts a nice big X in the box that marks today s date, which is, of course, Saturday, July 3. I take note of tomorrow s box, all decorated with blue-and-red starbursts. The Fourth of July Adoption Extravaganza! I stretch my paws wide up the sides of our condo door and laugh at myself as I form an X . Etta copies me.
We re just a couple of X es, aren t we, Elvis? she says.
Sure are, I say.
Our forever family is out there waiting for us, isn t that right, Elvis? Etta says. Her eyes sparkle when she talks.

Indeed, I say.
Quiet down over there, Rupert calls out from across the room. Long-haired party pooper so covered in fur it s hard to believe there are eyes in there somewhere. I don t know how that fat cat sees a thing.
Get back to napping, Rupert, I say.
I would if you weren t such a loud know-it-all, he says.
Then, saved by the snap-click of the lock on our condo door, it s Carly. With a full plate of chow.
Hello, my sweet peas, she says.
I tell her, like I do every day, Carly, please call me Elvis. But Carly doesn t listen. Such a human.
I know, she says. I love you, too.
I just shake my head, turn on my motor, and give her a nice, strong headbutt. Humans love that.
Eat up, she says. And, look, I ve got your favorite alphabet book.
Oh good, the alphabet book. It s the best. Full of letters. Like X . Humans love their letters. One day I m going to crack their code. I just wish it wasn t so hard.
Etta and I chomp and crunch at our kibble, and Carly opens her book.
A is for Appreciate Art, Carly reads. Everyone knows that. Who wouldn t appreciate art? Do you know what else A is for? she asks.
I crunch my kibble and think about it, but I can t come up with anything. This is what I mean about cracking their code. I can t figure out how humans make the letters mean something. You re supposed to put them all in a row. For writing. And reading. It s tricky. But if I could get it right, I could communicate clearly. Just talking to a human never works.
A is for animal adoption, Carly says. And that s what s happening tomorrow.
I already know that. But Carly wants to keep on talking about it. She says something about new families and new homes and adjusting, but I m waiting for her to get to the letter B , which stands for Become Brave. She never gets there. Fine. I just nuzzle her a bit and smile over at Etta. We re both so excited.
We re going to have a brand-new, wondrous life, isn t that right, Elvis? Etta says.
Yes, indeed, I say, with a twitch of my whiskers.
There are no guarantees, Rupert snorts from across the room. Rupert. Please.
What do you think our forever home will be like? Etta asks.
Like that one story in Carly s fairy-tale book, of course, I say. An enormous yard with rolling hills and green grass and trees filled with blue birds and a pond with fish! The out-of-doors. The fun never ends in the out-of-doors! Oh, and the banquets of food. So much food. The best-
And so many blankets, Etta says. And cushions. NEW blankets and cushions!
Ah, the blankets, I say. Thick and soft and warm.
Don t forget about the villains, Rupert says.
Our forever home won t have any villains, will it, Elvis? Etta says.
Of course not, I say. Villains. Please.
Carly closes the alphabet book. I think you are all too excited to concentrate on reading, she says. I guess she s right. The alphabet book will have to wait.
I m sure going to miss you, Carly says. Good night, my sweet peas. See you tomorrow for the big day. Carly snap-clicks our condo door and leaves.
When we re at our forever home, will we ever come back here? Etta asks as she tumbles around me and tugs on my tail.
Why would we? I say.
I don t know, she says. We ve lived here since the beginning. It s not our forever home, but it s our home, right?
No. No, I say. It s just a shelter.
She nibbles on my tail, and we swat at each other and laugh.
You don t know anything, Rupert says. Poor guy. If only he knew that he s the one who doesn t know anything.
The place quiets down, and it s lights off and motors on.
Etta and I get to grooming.
I start at my tail and work my way through my calico colors. Mango, ebony, cream, and rust. One in a million. That s what Carly says about me. Etta and Elvis , she says. The original American Idols . I spend quite a bit of time working on the tufts of my paws. There s something there I can t quite get at, so I bite and pull. Got it! A clump of kitty litter. Please.
Etta helps me a little, and I help her, too. Eventually she tucks her head into my neck and treads. The pushing and pulling. The grabbing of tufts of fur. I wouldn t trade it for anything! Her rumble is soft and sweet. The gray of her tummy rises and falls with each breath. The tips of her little white paws twitch and snap. She s dreaming of our forever home. The mother, the father, the children. Maybe one of those very old humans. Yes, a grandparent. And friends visiting. And naps. Wonderful naps.
I close my eyes and sigh. It s a dream come true. Etta and me. Together forever. In our forever home.
The Fourth of July Adoption Extravaganza can t get here fast enough.
Chapter 2

New day. Same prickly paws on my backside reminding me that this is my life. I can t help but smile.
I clear the morning fuzz from my vision and see Carly standing right in front of our condo.
Good morning, my sweet peas. Rise and shine. We re moving you up front to a condo in the spotlight, she says.
Before I even have time to consider this, Carly opens the door with a snap-click and grabs me by the scruff. She tucks me under her arm and grabs Etta, who is just waking up.
What s happening, Elvis? Etta says.
We get to go to a new condo today. For the big event! I say.
Oh! Wow!
Carly walks us down the corridor-felines on the right, canines on the left. The corridor is cool and musty, just the way I like it. I fill my lungs.
I consider wriggling out of Carly s grasp to scoot off on an adventure, but with the adoption extravaganza coming up, who has time? Also, those awful mutts are snarling and snapping like they own the place, and I don t want to accidentally cross their paths.
The Second Chance Club comes into view-those poor, hopeful souls. They re injured and old, and some of them went to their forever homes but got returned. They re supposed to get a second chance, but Rupert calls it the You Don t Stand a Chance Club.
Ah, there s the front desk, up by the double doors of the entrance, with the cardboard carriers stacked to the ceiling. I grin at the posters on the brick walls. Pictures of happy felines sitting in confident poses. They ll probably take our picture, too, when Etta and I get our forever family.
Carly deposits us in our new condo up front. It smells fresh. Nose-tingling clean. I twitch my whiskers and sniff around. From here, I can see everything in the whole shelter. There are red, white, and blue sparkles everywhere. And flags, too. With stars and stripes. There s one on every condo, next to our identification cards. I try to fiddle with the