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by Kwame Alexander




  Contents

  * * *

  Title Page

  Contents

  Dedication

  Copyright

  Looking Back

  1988

  May 28, 1988

  I used to play H.O.R.S.E.

  Sometimes, I wish

  So Fly!

  Skinny picks

  Home

  Black Hole

  Conversation

  In the Morning

  Ten Reasons Why I Hate Sirens

  Today

  There’s an old house

  Sanctuary

  Flipper McGhees

  Me and Skinny

  Conversation with Skinny

  Thought

  Who’s Bad?

  Hooky

  Memory

  I skipped school today

  After dinner

  Oops!

  Conversation (that ends badly)

  Overheard

  Things I Think About Before I Fall Asleep

  Lunch

  In preschool

  Things I Think About in Gym Class

  Unlucky

  Lucky

  Chills

  Yo, Charlie, you all right?

  Queasy

  After School

  After not eating

  Conversation (at my front door)

  Ivan

  On our way to Quik-Mart

  But, before I can say

  The Loot

  Interruption

  I drift off

  Alarm

  Interrogation

  Trouble

  The Truth

  Dead Man Walking

  The sky looks

  She makes me knock

  A very big dog

  Thought

  Great Dane

  Consequence (Part One)

  Things I Think About on the Walk Home

  Bomb

  You want to go to jail, Charlie

  Blame

  The Last Straw

  School

  When I get home

  Why I Don’t Like Dogs

  Walking Woodrow

  Unleashed

  The Last Day of School

  I tell them

  The dog

  She named her Abraham Lincoln?

  Friday

  Saturday

  Consequence (Part Two)

  I almost drop my

  Three-Way Conversation

  Reprieve

  Renaming

  Me and CJ

  On Friday

  Farewell

  The Rink

  The Big Move

  I’m sorry, guys

  Skating with CJ

  Doomsday

  Conversation with Skinny

  Steaming

  68 Minutes Later

  116 Minutes

  132 Minutes

  158 Minutes

  Questions

  Answers

  Thought

  The Arrival

  Lord Have Mercy

  Dread

  Fried Chicken

  Small Talk at Dinner

  After

  Hustle and Grind

  Thought

  He watches me

  Conversation with Mom

  I wake up

  Why are all these lights on

  Break of Dawn

  The Walk

  Kerplunk

  Conversation with Granddaddy

  Breakfast

  My cousin Roxie

  Conversation (One-sided)

  She Got Game

  HEY, CHARLIE, COME PLAY A GAME WITH US

  Four Hours Later

  Jazz

  It’s a metaphor, he says

  Mom calls

  Saturday Morning

  Your grandmother

  Them’s my apples

  Grabbing

  Monday Morning

  Grandma and Granddad talk

  Work

  Escape to the Arcade

  Three-on-Three

  On the Spot

  The Score

  10–9

  Get in the Game

  Huddle

  Awry

  After Roxie checks

  Amen

  Hallelujah

  On the way home

  Practice

  Phone Message

  Phone Message From CJ

  Mockery

  When we walk into

  Coach Roxie

  Scorched

  Good Night

  Friday

  Saturday

  My Dad’s Comic Books

  At 2:45 a.m.

  Three hours later

  Conversation with Grandma

  Why

  Sometimes, I wish

  But for now

  Later

  Practice

  Surprise

  Roxie got all As

  Say Cheese

  Nosebleed

  If watching

  Halftime

  When the announcer reads

  Sweet Georgia Brown

  What are the chances?

  C.U.R.L.Y.

  After all the halftime excitement

  On the train ride home

  YO, CHARLIE BELL!

  Skinny in DC

  Surprise

  Dear Charlie

  Dear Charlie (cont’d)

  I read

  Practice

  More Practice

  Pickup Game

  I don’t score

  Guess Who

  Envy

  When I get home

  Conversation at Roxie’s Front Door

  Solo

  The two old men

  She pulls out

  Percival Bell, Age 22

  Jordan Bell, Age 23

  Joshua Bell, Age 37

  Family History

  Phone Message

  When Granddaddy hollers

  Phone Call with CJ

  Memory

  The Big Game

  Wink brings the ball

  Playing by Twos

  But wait

  Down by One

  Showcase

  The Last Shot

  Game Over

  Resolve

  Surprise

  July 2

  New Sneakers

  The Fourth

  Basketball Rule

  Let’s Ball

  The Plan

  I get off the train

  Waiting in Line

  Fight

  Inside

  C’MON, CHARLIE, RUN!

  Déjà Vu

  SIRENS

  The Crime

  Arrested

  Locked Up

  Things I Think About While I’m in Jail

  The Black Panther

  Consequence (Part Three)

  Freedom

  There’s a Hole In my Soul

  Rebound

  Homecoming

  After I hug Grandma

  Conversation with Mom

  6:00 a.m.

  Peaches and Hope

  Bet

  One-on-One

  Goodbyes

  Conversation with Granddadddy

  2018 (Thirty Years Later)

  June 14, 2018

  Conversation

  Air Ball

  Graduation Gift

  She hands me

  Dear boys

  Later that summer

  Conversation with Your Mother

  Sample Chapters from THE CROSSOVER

  Buy the Book

  Sample Chapters from BOOKED

  Buy the Book

  Middle Grade Mania!

  About the Author

  Connect with HMH on Social Media

  Footnotes

  For Mommy

  Copyright © 2018 by Kwam
e Alexander

  Illustrations copyright © 2018 by Dawud Anyabwile

  All rights reserved. For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to trade.permissions@hmhco.com or to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 3 Park Avenue, 19th Floor, New York, New York 10016.

  hmhco.com

  Cover photo © by John Huet

  Cover design by Lisa Vega and Sammy Yuen

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file.

  ISBN 978-0-544-86813-7

  eISBN 978-1-328-55813-8

  v1.0318

  Looking Back

  It was the summer

  when Now and Laters

  cost a nickel

  and The Fantastic Four,

  a buck.

  When I met

  Harriet Tubman

  and the Harlem Globetrotters.

  It was the hottest summer

  after the coldest winter ever,

  when a storm shattered

  my home

  into a million little pieces

  and soaring above

  the sorrow and grief

  seemed impossible.

  It was the summer of 1988,

  when basketball gave me wings

  and I had to learn

  how to rebound

  on the court.

  And off.

  May 28, 1988

  The game is on

  at the park.

  The stars are out.

  It’s close to dark.

  Hoop Kings

  SOARing

  in the SKY

  so high

  so fly

  like they Got Wings

  (it’s like the blacktop

  is a boxSPRING)

  Hey, Charlie, you see what he did with that THING!

  my best friend, Skinny, yells

  T

  W

  I

  R

  L

  I

  N

  G and WHIRLING the ball

  so sweet

  it’s like a bee s t i n g

  (Ouch!)

  He just Swished

  in your Face.

  Stung you like

  a can of mace

  These boys so fly

  they’re outta SPACE!

  C’mon, Charlie, I got next. Let’s hoop, Skinny says,

  jumping up from the sidewalk.

  Nah, I gotta get home for dinner, I lie.

  I used to play H.O.R.S.E.

  against my father, and sometimes I

  won, but when I tried playing on

  a team, I’d get too nervous

  to shoot, too scared of the

  ball (like the time I

  missed a pass and

  got hit up-

  side the

  head).

  Sometimes, I wish

  I was a superhero,

  superfly

  like Quicksilver

  speed-racing

  down the court

  sleek as a sports car

  faster than NASCAR,

  leaving all my sadness

  in the dust—far,

  far away

  from now.

  Wish I could soar

  score

  throw down

  a monster dunk

  like I was Thor.

  Wish I could elevate

  my name

  with game so good

  it’s hall of fame!

  Wish I could forget

  all the pain.

  Yeah, that’s what I wish . . .

  Skinny picks

  some other boy

  to be on his team,

  which is cool with me,

  ’cause I’d much rather be

  at home

  lying across

  my bed

  reading comics.

  See you tomorrow, Skinny,

  I yell,

  but he’s already

  on the court

  running a game

  and his mouth.

  Home

  The Fantastic Four

  chase

  Galactus

  through the universe

  on a time sled

  when they get sucked into

  a black hole

  that nearly burns them

  to holy hand grenades.

  But Thor’s hammer

  KABOOMS them

  outta impending doom,

  right smack in the middle

  of an intergalactic civil war

  between armed battleships

  that makes Star Wars

  look like a playground fight.

  Before they get shot up,

  Reed

  a.k.a. Stretch

  a.k.a. Mister Fantastic

  uses THE TIME DILATION EFFECT

  to freeze EVERYTHING

  and move them back

  in time.

  I wish

  I could do

  the same thing

  and get outta

  this black hole

  I’m trapped in . . .

  Black Hole

  My dad was a star

  in our neighborhood.

  Everybody knew him.

  He taught

  adults to read

  in the mornings,

  and taught

  night school

  to kids

  with problems

  who got kicked

  out of regular school.

  Each summer

  just me and him

  would pack up

  his pickup truck

  and road trip

  to as many state capitals

  as we could

  in the two weeks

  he had for vacation.

  My least favorite

  was Dover, Delaware,

  ’cause the major tourist attraction

  was a mortuary

  that processed

  the remains

  of over 50,000 soldiers.

  This year,

  I turned twelve

  and he promised

  to take me

  to the Appalachians,

  Charleston,

  Knoxville,

  Louisville,

  to hike,

  and he promised

  to get me

  some fresh sneakers

  and let me

  taste beer,

  as long as

  You don’t tell

  your mother, Charlie.

  But none of that ever happened

  because at 9:01 p.m.

  on the ninth of March

  my star exploded

  and everything

  froze.

  Conversation

  Why aren’t you doing your homework?

  Mom, can’t you knock first.

  It’s my house, I don’t have to knock. I asked you a question.

  It’s the end of school, we don’t really have homework.

  Can you put your comic book down for a second? I want to talk with you.

  What?

  Don’t say WHAT to me.

  Yes?

  Summer’s here in two weeks, and I was thinking maybe we could go to Boston or Providence.

  Why?

  They’re capitals.

  No thanks.

  C’mon, Charlie, it’ll be fun.

  I don’t want to go there.

  Then how about SeaWorld?

  No thanks.

  Honey, you loved SeaWorld.

  Yeah, and I also sat in a car seat when I was four, but you know things change, Mom.

  Charlie Bell, always a comedian.

  . . .

  There’s an overnight basketball camp.

  I don’t like basketball.

  Since when?

  Since now. Plus, I don’t have any sneakers.

  Then what are those things I bought you for Christmas.

  Nobody
wears Zips, Mom.

  They make your feet run faster, she says, giggling.

  Be serious, Mom. I hate those sneakers.

  Be grateful for what you have, Charlie. Some kids don’t even have shoes to wear.

  . . .

  How were your tests?

  Fine.

  . . .

  Can I have some money for lunch?

  I gave you lunch money on Monday.

  It’s gone.

  Lunch money is for lunch, not comics.

  Well, pay me allowance like all my friends get.

  Allowance? How about I allow you to have clothes and food and shelter?

  So we’re just always gonna be poor?

  We have everything we need.

  Not everything.

  . . .

  . . .

  Charlie, just tell me what you want to do.

  I want. To read. My comics. Okay!

  That’s all you’ve been doing lately. I miss you.

  What are you talking about? I’m right here.

  Let’s play Scrabble or cards, then.

  Stop acting like everything’s normal. IT’S NOT!

  Then let’s talk about what happened.

  . . .

  I know you’re sad, but—

  I’M MAD!

  That’s why we have to talk about it.

  I don’t have nothing to say.

  Anything. I don’t have anything to say.

  Whatever, I mumble.

  Look, you can be angry, but you can’t be disrespectful.

  . . .

  We’ll finish this later. Dinner’s ready, come on downstairs.

  I don’t want noth— anything to eat.

  In the Morning

  Each day I wake to the BOOM BAP of

  my clock radio playing rap

  music, but today I’m blasted

  by a loud siren that

  jolts me awake and

  sends me back to

  that day when

  my life

  changed.

  Ten Reasons Why I Hate Sirens

  Because I hadn’t eaten dinner and I was starving

 

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