Chapter 18
The Penalty Box
Since the Sparrow School had only one classroom for everyone, the teaching staff quickly found that they had to get creative when it came to non-silent work. On this particular day, while the tenth and eleventh grades worked on their self-study math books, the fifth grade had a spelling test. This test was administered through headphones over two tape recorders so that everyone could work at his or her own pace, without disturbing others.
Katie’s pace was just as fast as the tape player would allow. The girl was only tested on spelling because she seemed to enjoy it so much. She was not just a good speller; she was a walking dictionary, a spelling juggernaut. How this fact came to be was a well-known family tale.
When Katie was about six years old – and already reading books written for the fifth grade – she saw one day that Chris and Jessie were playing a game of Scrabble. Immediately she insisted that they let her play too. She lost spectacularly, but losing only ever had one effect on Katie Rivera – it made her more determined than ever to win the next time. So quietly, she sat down with the necessary accessory, the official Scrabble players’ dictionary. Using what was already developing into a phenomenal memory, Katie absorbed the dictionary like a sponge in water. Within three weeks, she had beaten every member of the family to smithereens at Scrabble, and no one wanted a rematch. Soon, even her friends wouldn’t play with her; the only Scrabble opponents she could find were on the Internet, which she was allowed to terrorize for thirty minutes a day.
Moe was a different story. He had never played Scrabble, and despite much patient coaching by many teachers, could barely spell his name. Katie found this shortcoming of his quite amusing. Once her own paper was done, she would entertain herself by watching Moe incessantly pause and rewind the tape as he revisited his misspelled words to mangle them further. Today the show got so funny that she snickered out loud.
“Katie,” Mom reproved quietly, “don’t laugh at Moe. If you’re done with your test, you may get a book and read until he is finished.”
Katie fetched a book and began to read, but the plot hardly seemed entertaining compared to Moe’s five hilarious attempts to spell “diorama.” Before she knew it, she snickered again, and realized instantly that she was in trouble. The Sparrow School, like the Sparrow home, had a one-strike policy – listening the first time was required in order to stay out of the soup.
Mom motioned her outside into the hall, and shut the door behind them. Then she came down on one knee and regarded her daughter earnestly. “Katie, how do you think Moe feels when you laugh at him for his poor spelling?”
Katie looked at the floor. “Not very good.”
“How do you think Jesus feels when you laugh at Moe?”
“Not very good, either.” Katie was close to tears now.
“Your memory is a wonderful gift from God,” Mom continued. “You didn’t earn it, so you have nothing to be proud of. God simply made you with one kind of brain and Moe with another, because that’s the way He decided to do it. That fact doesn’t give you any advantage over Moe from God’s perspective. In fact, God says that really clever people have a harder time hearing from Him. Remember that next time you’re tempted to feel superior and laugh at your brother.
“And another thing, Katie, that may help you get the right perspective: when you treat Moe badly, you’re treating yourself badly. The Bible says that we’re all ‘members’ of one another, different parts of one body. Would you drop a rock on your toe because you were mad at your foot?”
“No, ma’am.”
“That’s just what you’re doing when you make Moe feel bad. Sometime down the road, that bad feeling is bound to come back around to where it started, and hurt you.”
“I’m sorry,” Katie said contritely.
“You can go be sorry in the Penalty Box,” Mom told her, “until the test is over. And you should apologize to Moe later, after class.”
The Penalty Box, named for its counterpart in hockey, was an actual cardboard box, recently vacated by the Sparrows’ new refrigerator. The side had been cut open to make a door, and the top cut out for light and air. The box sat in the corner of the classroom, and contained nothing but a metal folding chair and a wind-up timer, hung inside for misbehavers to track their sentences. Katie slipped into the Penalty Box very quietly and sat there, wondering how she could have been so heartless toward her brother.
A few minutes later, Mom got up from her desk. “The Sergeant and I are taking Mrs. Scroggins to lunch,” she announced. “Carry on with the assignments in your planners. Chris, you’re in charge until we get back.”
Chris glowed visibly as he tested out the teacher’s chair. Jessie rolled her eyes, but was glad for him anyway. Ever since her “homecoming” two weeks ago, Jessie consciously loved her brother like never before. She found herself wanting to spend more time with him, and feeling genuinely glad when good things came his way.
Now that the weather was cooler, Jessie had even decided to join Chris and the Sergeant on their daily run, which started at seven and continued for three exhausting miles. It was worth every painful step just to cheer on Chris, whose enthusiasm for the athletic scene had been flagging. He couldn’t quit now, Jessie had told him. He’d lost thirty pounds already, and had gone from a pale couch potato to a tanned, fit runner. The pep talk – and the new partner – had really seemed to bolster Chris. Jessie had always been somewhat scolding and impatient with her siblings. It was a wonderful new experience to be the encourager, and to see that encouragement affect someone else’s life positively.
This newfound love for the family was just one of many changes Jessie had experienced, and all were in the one place she couldn’t possibly mistake or ignore: her own life. Her personality, her opinions, her way of looking at things – her entire world – had been turned crazily, wonderfully upside down. Or rather, she decided, right side up. It was all so amazing that she often got distracted from humdrum realities, like the half-blank math worksheet in front of her.
At first, Jessie didn’t hear the noise from the kitchen. Ben heard it and looked up, but since no one else showed any reaction, he decided it was his imagination. After all, they had no pets and they were alone in the house. Weren’t they?
The next noise, moments later, got everyone’s attention. It was the unmistakeable sound of breaking glass, just a few yards away up the hall.
“Oh my,” Jessie said softly. “Did you guys hear that?”
Chris, suddenly shaky – and no longer so happy with being in charge – stood up and motioned Ben to the door, where they listened intently. “Jessie,” he whispered, “take Moe and get in the box with Katie. Be very quiet, but text Mom and the Sergeant and tell them what’s going on. There’s someone out in the kitchen.”
By now Jessie’s heart was pounding harder than it did after a three-mile run. “Should we call the police?” she whispered.
Chris hesitated a moment. “Not yet,” he decided. “Just start praying. I’m going to turn the lights out as soon as you’re in.”
There was barely room in the refrigerator box for Jessie and the twins, but they managed to jam in standing and get the door shut. Appearing to be an ordinary storage box made it the perfect hiding place – though why they would need one with the boys outside in the room was a question she preferred not to contemplate. Three messages went out quickly – one to the Sergeant, one to Mom, and one to God. That last one kept going out, from all of them, as the seconds ticked by. Jessie jumped when her phone made a loud incoming-text ring. She jabbed the volume, but it was too late. You could hear that ringtone all over the house, she knew. The message was a reply from the Sergeant, who said they’d be there in three minutes. Just now, three minutes seemed like forever. Jessie entered 9-1-1 into the display and waited to hit Call. Apart from praying, it was the only thing she could think of to do.
Now there was another sound in the hall – stealthy footsteps, possibly of more than one
person. Almost crying from the tension, Jessie wished they could just throw the lights on, rush out of the room, and confront whoever it was in the open. Apparently Ben and Chris were thinking the same thing, because a moment later Jessie heard the door swing open, followed by voices shouting and what sounded like a scuffle. Apparently thinking this signaled their last moments, Katie began frantically apologizing to Moe for every time she’d laughed at him in their entire lives. Jessie quickly clamped a none-too-gentle hand over her sister’s mouth and hissed “quiet!”
And it was quiet, for what seemed like a long time. Jessie was at the point of actually calling 911 when more footsteps came down the hall and into the room. Then suddenly, the door of the Penalty Box swung open.
The Sparrow Found A House (Sparrow Stories #1) Page 18