“All the stories in the book are fun, a little adventurous and humorous. Children's summer days include, for example, building insect hotels, rescuing frogs, camping, cycling, painting the house and various games. The Joy Street children’s parents and older siblings also join in some of the activities. But Lenna does not have a completely happy life either. Namely, she misses the time when her parents lived together. Thus, at least one major concern of modern children is reflected in the work.”

-        Helena Koch, acclaimed children's book author and critic

“This book is for a slightly younger reader than the author’s previous books, but the adventures are in no way inferior to the previous books. A proper children’s book must contain many pictures, and it’s especially nice if these pictures are drawn by Sirly Oder. She has drawn beautiful and detailed pictures for the book, which make the hard work of reading fun for young readers, and the mother or father reading the book aloud will soon be pushed aside because they interfere with looking at the pictures. It’s better to read it yourself. When a good little reader has fallen asleep, the mother or father sneaks up to the child’s bed, turns off the light, and grabs the book to continue where they left off.”

-        René Tendermann, publisher of Rahva Raamat 

Sample

There Are Evil Spirits in the Night

In the evening, the boys were playing football on the patch of ground by the pump house. We went to watch. Every time they spotted us, they nodded — with that same look that said this was the end of us.

    “I’d really like to know what they’re planning,” said Saskia after one particularly meaningful nod.

    We all wanted to know, because it was obvious they were up to something.

    “We should outsmart those Trickster Brothers and come up with a prank of our own,” said Emma. “Then they’ll be the ones running home in fright!”

    We all agreed, but not a single good idea came to mind. We sat on the bench beside the pump house, thinking hard. The more sulky our faces got, the more cheerful the boys became. Then Mirtel said: “You know what, at home I have this strong, clear nylon string... maybe it’s fishing line, called matil, or tamiil, or something like that. Anyway, we’ll tie one end to the boys’ tent and run the other end low to the ground through the fence and into our tent. When it’s dark, we’ll tug it — that’ll give them a good scare!”

    We broke into a run — first to Mirtel’s to fetch the string, then to our own beautiful red tent.

    “Who’s brave enough to go into Mart’s yard?” asked Emma, with a face that said it definitely wouldn’t be her.

    Mart’s mother was in the garden, watering the beds. You could only get into that yard through the gate. Now that they had Tobi the dog, every gap in the fence was carefully sealed. Marching right in and fiddling around by the boys’ tent would have looked suspicious — even a hedgehog could see that.

    “I have an idea,” I said. “Emma, go get your badminton rackets and shuttlecocks. We’ll start playing, and then…”

    “Oh, Lenna! You’re brilliant!” squealed Mirtel, bouncing up and down. “Of course — we’ll do just that! The shuttlecock flies into Mart’s yard and…”

    We were giddy with excitement as Emma dashed off for the rackets and shuttlecock. There was no time to waste, the boys’ game could end any minute. We played for a bit, just for show, and then — whoosh! — the shuttlecock flew over the fence. I was about to run after it when I saw Mart’s mother. She left the hose trickling on the garden bed and came toward us.

    “Playing badminton, are you?” she said with a wide, friendly smile. “I’ll toss it back.”
    We tried to smile too. Saskia even managed an “Oh, thank you.”

    We watched, crestfallen, as she returned to her watering.

    “What do we do now?” whispered Emma.
    “Keep playing,” Saskia said firmly.

    So we did.

    An endless number of minutes later, Mart’s mother’s phone rang. Talking loudly, she walked toward the house. We threw the shuttlecock straight over the fence, and I sprinted off. I slipped through the gate into Mart’s yard just as Mart’s father said to the other girls, “Now tell me, how could your shuttlecock land here? The wind’s coming from the other direction.” The girls said nothing.

    Uncle Sulev sighed. “Never mind. These things happen. I’ll throw it back.”

    After that, he stretched out on a terrace chair with his newspaper.

    I trudged back to our beautiful red tent, feeling defeated.
    “It’s like they’ve made a secret pact to guard the boys’ tent,” Mirtel muttered.

    Playing badminton had never felt less fun. And we were terrible at it too. We sighed, missing more often than we hit. When it was my turn, I hit the shuttlecock with the frame — and it flew (this time completely by accident!) right back into Mart’s yard. Uncle Sulev let the paper fall to his knees, gave us a look that said he didn’t really like little girls much, grabbed his chair and newspaper, and came over. “I’ll sit here by the fence — that way I won’t have to walk so far,” he said, and sat down.

    Nothing could have been more ridiculous. We forgot how to talk altogether. We played as if it were hard labor — seriously and silently. Only Uncle Sulev’s sighs and the rustle of his newspaper broke the air.

    Then we heard the boys go inside through Mart’s door. A moment later, Mart’s mother called Uncle Sulev in for dinner. A light came on in the kitchen. Finally, the yard was empty.

    “Now,” said Saskia, her voice decisive. This was our last chance.

    The shuttlecock flew over the fence, landing right beside the boys’ tent. I ran for it. Passing the house, I crouched low, trying to make myself as small as possible. I tied our string to one of the tent ropes and dragged it close to the ground all the way to the wire fence. On the other side, the girls took hold of the ball of string and carried it to our tent.

    Everything happened fast — and unnoticed.

    When I got safely back behind the fence, it hit me: I hadn’t picked up the shuttlecock. But there was no way I was going back for it now.

    Saskia gave the string a few testing tugs. The tent shuddered nicely.
    “That’s good,” she announced. “Now what?”

Reading materials:

✓Sample of one chapter in English & synopsis

✓Estonian edition     

✓For more information or copyrights, please contact: maasikjana@gmail.com