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| - 6-year-old Isabella Garcia Shapiro sighed heavily, tucked a stray strand of jet-black hair behind her ear, smoothed her new pink skirt down, and entered her room. Her bed and vanity were all there, her room was painted perfectly, but the rest of it was all boxes. “Sure, Mama,” she replied flatly. “I hate 'Danville'!” Isabella added moodily. She raised her eyes and locked gazes with a pair of dark blue eyes. Isabella dragged a shoe through the grass, cheeks still red. “Mama says I’m not allowed to leave the yard. But, uh…whatcha doin’?” She put her hands behind her back and tilted her head.
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| abstract
| - 6-year-old Isabella Garcia Shapiro sighed heavily, tucked a stray strand of jet-black hair behind her ear, smoothed her new pink skirt down, and entered her room. Her bed and vanity were all there, her room was painted perfectly, but the rest of it was all boxes. “Sure, Mama,” she replied flatly. “I hate 'Danville'!” Isabella added moodily. Intrigued, amazed, and desperate for a closer look, the 6-year-old took the few steps necessary to get to the slide’s base, right behind the kiddie pool and underneath the tree. She walked cautiously around the tree, hands clasped in front of her, gazing at the slide from every direction she could see. It looked like fun—but it was so high up! She raised her eyes and locked gazes with a pair of dark blue eyes. A redheaded boy with a triangular head, about her age, perhaps a month younger, was staring back at her, a large smile on his face. He seemed unhurt. He wore an orange-striped T-Shirt and blue-jean shorts. He was also soaking wet. Isabella dragged a shoe through the grass, cheeks still red. “Mama says I’m not allowed to leave the yard. But, uh…whatcha doin’?” She put her hands behind her back and tilted her head. The boy smiled wider, glancing down at his torso and taking its hem in his fingers, peeling it off of him and outward so that he could see it better. “Yeah, like I said, it’s from our new slide! Wanna see?” Isabella didn’t hesitate to tell him she’d already seen it. “Sure!” she nodded rapidly. “Nope,” he replied proudly. “We did it all by ourselves.” Isabella was confused until she felt the grass beneath her actually shake. She glanced down and gave a little gasp. The square of grassy ground she and the boy were standing on was lifting upward. Isabella’s eye caught the sight of the boy’s hand letting go of a hanging rope he’d just pulled. He’d actually built all this? The boy waved at something between two branches as Isabella joined him. “Hey, Ferb!” he greeted. Ferb blinked. “So he’s Ferb,” Isabella said slowly, and she turned to the boy, “but what’s your name?” The boy smiled. “I’m Phineas Flynn!” “Nice to, um, meet you,” Isabella blushed. He gave one nod. “When did you build it?” Isabella asked. “Really?” Isabella cried. “C’mon, Izzie, it’s fun!” Phineas told her. He sat down on the top of the slide and scooted over, patting the spot next to him. “Go down wif me!” Isabella jumped, startled. Isabella proceeded to look down. She squeaked in fright. “No-no-no-no-no, I changed my mind, Phineas, I don’t wanna go!” “Too late! Here goes!” Phineas took hold of her wrist as Ferb gave them both a push from behind. Phineas and Isabella propelled down the slide, curling around and then landing with a splash in the kiddie pool. “Hey, Ferb,” Phineas said, “Isabella’s gonna help us wif the mats tomorrow!” Vivian’s hands were on her hips as she looked around the yard. She finally spotted Isabella and marched over, taking her wrist and pulling her out of the pool. Vivian loosened her grip on her daughter’s wrist. “Did you?” she sounded hopeful. She turned halfway around when they reached the gate.
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