Simon B. Rhymin'

by Dwayne Reed

  “That’s enough, kiddo. Go on over there and help Simon set up the chairs. You drivin’ us all crazy. I think we got the sound covered,” Dad says, nudging C.J. off the mini-stage we’ve built and out of the way. Somebody had to do it.

  “Man, all y’all hatin’! Always tryna silence me!” I love my friend, but he be doin’ too much sometimes. Even though Dad told him to come help me, he walks over and plops down on a chair near where I’m setting up and watches me work instead. At least he’s far away from the stage and somewhere I can see him. I don’t need him messing anything up on the first time they ever let anybody do this.

  “Ain’t nobody tryna silence you, C.J. Stop being so dramatic. Why don’t you help make the signs?” Maria yells this across the dining hall so loud that C.J. can’t even act like he didn’t hear it. I give him a look and he drags his feet over, picking up a marker. With Moms working on her famous lasagna back in the dining hall kitchen and Dad making sure the stage is all set up, Miss Wanda has left the three of us in charge of chairs and signs while she sets up the decorations out in the front by the entrance so people in the neighborhood know today is special.

  Just as I finish sliding the last few chairs into a row around the stage, I hear Maria let out a big ol’ EEEEP from near the dining hall doorway.

  “Mr. Jaaaaaames! OH EM GEEEE!” I turn around to see Mr. James with a bag full of clothes in one hand and a box that says CREIGHTON CAKES in the other. He’s got a corny smile stretching across his face like usual and high-fives Maria the minute he sets all his stuff down.

  “It looks so cool in here, y’all. I like what y’all did with the place.”

  “Thanks, Mr. James! What’s that?” Maria asks, pointing to the box, even though we all know what’s in it already.

  “You know, a little something to celebrate my best students doing this cool thing in the community,” he says, keeping one hand on top of the box so none of us open it before showtime.

  “And me too!” yells C.J., walking over, staring at the box like he’s got hearts in his eyes. “I’m helping, too!”

  “You know all y’all are my students. Don’t matter if you’re in another class. I’m proud of y’all. So where should I put all this?”

  “My mom’s in the kitchen cooking. I think this box should go back there. We have a plastic bin in the corner over there behind the stage for stuff people want to give to kids at our school who need it. You can take the bag over there. Then you can sit wherever you want. People are gonna start coming soon.” Mr. James daps me up before handing the cupcakes over to Maria to take to the back while he drops his bag behind the stage. I look across the room and can’t help but smile at it. It doesn’t look as sad in here as it did the first time Dad brought me. It almost looks as comforting as being at home. It makes me proud of what we’ve done in the past month. Before, I only thought of coming here as a homework assignment I was scared to do.

  “All right now!” I hear Sunny’s voice before I see him. He’s the first person to walk into the dining hall, and he looks like a whole different person with his new haircut and wearing Dad’s clothes. It’s so weird how perfect Dad’s old clothes fit Sunny. He walks over and squeezes my shoulder before walking to the front row of chairs to sit near Mr. James. He smells like the soap my dad uses, too.

  “Simon, I need you, C.J., and Maria to help me start setting things out on the tables, okay? Everybody else is gon’ be filling up these chairs any second now. We gotta move quick,” Moms says, suddenly appearing next to me in her apron, looking a little sweaty. Her apron is covered in red sauce and she has a big tray in her hand. “I need help with all that over there.” She uses her head to point at the other things sitting on the window ledge of the kitchen for us to grab behind her. “I know you don’t think I’m about to trust you with this hot tray, do you? Not today, Si. Me and your dad got this. We have too many people to feed,” she says, laughing to herself and walking away.

  The room starts flooding with people from every corner of the dining hall. I didn’t know this place had so many doors, but it’s kind of cool to know everybody’s gonna be sitting down together soon while we eat my mama’s food and listen to people perform whatever they want on the mic. My eyes get big when I see some of the kids from my class walk in with their parents. Seeing them sit next to some of the friends I’ve made at the shelter is wild. I could stand here looking at this forever. C.J.’s booming voice snaps me out of it.

  “Mic check, one two one two! We finna start! What you gon’ do?!” Face-palm. C.J. and the mic strike again. Before Dad or Miss Wanda can get to him, he taps the mic a few times with his fingers and runs offstage and takes his seat next to Mr. James and waits all innocent-like for me and Maria to take our seats, too. Even though the front area is for me, because I’m the host and one of the open-micers, I made sure to have two seats saved next to me for my squad.

  “All right, my boy. I think it’s time. You got this. This is gonna be great!” Dad says quickly, squeezing my shoulder and walking over to stand next to Moms. I take a look behind the stage and notice the plastic bin is full. I look across the rows of chairs surrounding the stage and hear the crowd buzzing, everybody talking to each other. I look at the food tables off to one side of the room and see the steam floating up into the air from all the trays. My stomach grumbles. This time, not because I’m scared but because I’m hungry. And all this is kinda exciting, too. Miss Wanda’s hand nudges my back softly.

  “Go on, baby. Everybody’s waiting on you.”

  From the stage, I see so many faces looking at me. In the front row my best friends in the whole world sit next to Mr. James, smiling hard. And not like the weird smiles Maria was giving me in class when everything felt so scary. They just look real happy. And so does everybody else. By the kitchen Moms stands next to Dad with her arms crossed over her chest, with Dad’s arm sitting around her waist. Across from them, Markus crosses his eyes and sticks his tongue out at me, sitting in between Aaron and DeShawn, which makes me laugh. I take a deep breath the way Moms taught me and step up close to the mic.

  “Hi, everybody.”

  Hello! Hey! Hiiii! I hear the crowd say back to me while I clear my throat and unfold my piece of paper.

  “Welcome to the first-ever monthly Creighton Park Community Outreach Open Mic. My name is Simon Barnes. I go to Booker T. Washington Elementary School. And I’m gonna be your host. Tonight you’re free to come up and share a song, a poem, a dance, or a rap, as long as it’s respectful. This stage is for everybody who has something to share with the community. But it’s… especially… for the people who come here every week. We have five open-mic performers who signed up at the front, and later on we’re gonna eat. But before all that, we’re gonna open up the show with some special guest performers. Starting with somebody many of you might know and love. Please give it up for my friend… Sunny.”

  Sunny stands up and steps onto the stage, patting my shoulder as I try to step away from the mic to get back down to my seat. But then he doesn’t let me leave.

  “Feel like rhymin’ for me, Simon? Got something in that head of yours that you can rap… for me?”

  MIC CHECK, MIC CHECK, SUNNY AND SIMON,

  I BET, I BET, Y’ALL GON’ LIKE THIS RHYMIN’!

  I DO THE RAPS THAT MAKE YA HANDS CLAP,

  AND HE HITS THE NOTES THAT’LL MAKE Y’ALL FLOAT!

  WHEN THEY PUT ME ON STAGE, I AM NOT GON’ CHOKE,

  CUZ I LEARNED LONG AGO, I AM NOT NO JOKE!

  SO I GET MY HAT AND I GET MY COAT,

  WHILE SUNNY’S SONG SAILS LIKE A BRAND-NEW BOAT.

  THE D.O.G. CREW, MAKE IT DO WHAT IT DO,

  GOT MY FAM ALL HERE, MR. JAMES IS, TOO!

  NOW THE CROWD’S GETTIN’ LOUD AS WE ROCK THE MIC,

  BROUGHT THE WHOLE TOWN TOGETHER FOR SOME FUN TONIGHT!

  WHEN SUNNY SINGS, HE BE LIKE, “MOVE YOUR FEET!”

  WE GOT ERE’BODY DANCING TO THE SOUND OF THE BEAT!

  I’MA DO MY THANG
, THAT’S HOW IT’S GON’ BE!

  CUZ I’M SIMON, THE NOTORIOUS D.O.G.

  WOOF WOOF!

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  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Moms, you’re the MVP and you’ve always been that to me. As kids, we used to hate when you’d take us to the library and we’d stay there for hours, but I guess it paid off, right? Your little boy has a book on shelves that real-life people can choose to buy. Praise Jesus! Would you ever have thought? I’m sure your answer is, “Uh, yeah—cuz you’re my son.” Well, here we are, and it only happened because of you. Thanks for being so gracious with me and loving me even when I didn’t see what you saw. Now you can take your grandkids to the library or to the bookstore to check this one out! And you know what? I’ll even see if I can get the author to sign it for them—just because I love you. Keep being a trooper. Love, Mookie.

  Dionté, your love for reading has always inspired me. The reason I started reading more is because I once saw you with a book that had hundreds of pages and knew I couldn’t let you show me up. So, I went and got two books with hundreds of pages, and the rest is sibling-rivalry history! I’ll let you think you’re a better reader than me if you promise to take a look at this one in your spare time. Wait—never mind—you’ll never be that, but you’ll always be my big, little brother! I love you, dude.

  DeJhari, you’re the best sister I’ve ever had. To date, lovingly raising you along with Mommy has been one of my greatest accomplishments. I feel honored to be your brother, and to be honest, I think you’re one of the biggest reasons why I love kids. I remember when you suggested that we start our own book club. It was such an awesome idea, and hearing you break down literature with such ease was absolutely beautiful. Your mind, your talent, your humor, your thoughtfulness, and your care for others are all tremendous things, and I can’t wait to see how you continue to use who you are to help make the world a better place. I love you, Jhari.

  Dear Nana and Papa, thank you for being awesome grandparents. Nana, you taught me how to read. ’Nuff said. Game changer. You win. But also, thanks for letting me take all those naps at your house, and for singing “In the Name of Jesus” to me. It was comforting. You have always been my comfort. You’re definitely my #1 Nana. And Papa, thank you for helping me to T-H-I-N-K. You’ve always been so careful and thoughtful with everything, and thankfully, I think those traits have been passed down to me. Thank you for letting me grow up in the house you built. I love you both.

  Elizabeth, you are such a G! I know you do this literary agent stuff for a bunch of people, but you’ve made me feel like I’m your only client. I don’t feel like I’m just any random ol’ author with you; I feel like THE author with you! You make this feeling happen. Thank you for taking a shot on a kid from Chicago who didn’t know nothin’ about nothin’. And thank you for always challenging me and fighting for me. You should be proud of your work, EB. Thank you.

  Sam, from the moment we spoke together on the phone that first time, I knew I was going to publish with you and Little, Brown. You believed in Simon, and I felt that energy from you immediately. In fact, I literally only chose LBYR because of you. You have been one of the most gracious and sweetest editors during this whole process, and I wish you nothing but success and happiness moving forward. Thank you, Sam.

  Ellien, thank you for helping me bring Simon to life! God gives us dreams, but He also places people in our life who He knows will make those dreams come true. You’re definitely one of those people for me. Thank you, friend.

  Shout-out to all the kids on the West Side of Chicago. Y’all are some of the brightest, funniest, most beautiful people in the entire world. Don’t ever let anybody tell you what you can’t do. Put on for y’all’s city, man. I love you to bits and pieces.

  Dear Simoné, a full book couldn’t completely capture what I feel for you. I have loved you since we were Simon’s age, and I will love you until the last chapter of our life is complete. Thank you for being my everything, Monie. Love, Dwaynie Pooh.

  Michael Hicks

  DWAYNE REED is America’s favorite rapping teacher. In 2016, the music video for his hit song, “Welcome to the 4th Grade,” went viral, and it has since been viewed nearly two million times on YouTube. When he’s not writing, rapping, or teaching amazing kids in Chicago, Dwayne can be found presenting at educator conferences across the US or loving on his beautiful wife, Simoné.