"I do, I do." Lucky giggled.
"Hmmm." A question popped into his mind, but he didn't know exactly how to ask it.
"I'm waiting," she said.
"Okay, okay, here goes. What did you think about that thing I wrote about the silk farm?"
"That was good." Lucky nodded.
"That's not what I mean. I mean, like, what did you think when you found out I made the whole thing up? What did you really think?"
"Anansi," she said without hesitation.
"Huh?"
"Anansi the Spider Man," she explained. "It's an African folk tale. The sky god was hoarding all the stories of the world for himself. Anansi wanted to share those stories with all the people, but first the sky god made Anansi perform three tasks, hard ones. And when Anansi did them all, well, the sky god let him bring a box of stories down to the people. That's how we have stories today."
"Yeah, right." He half-remembered a picture book he'd read about Anansi.
"Can I call you Anansi?"
"Nope."
"Well, I'm still going to think of you as Anansi. The spider boy who brings stories. Now. My turn." She rubbed her hands in anticipation. "This is a two-part question."
"That's not fair!" he protested.
"Relax, don't have a hairy canary, you can, too, if you want." She cleared her throat. "Have you ever been friends before with someone who's black?"
"What?" he asked. The question caught him off guard. "Well, yeah, sure, sort of. In Illinois. Why?"
"I don't know," Lucky said. For a few seconds she didn't say anything. "It's strange. I'm black, and I know how that feels. But I don't know what it feels like to be not-black. Even though I try to imagine it. Maybe I think about it too much, but well, it's like ... I don't know. I mean, do you think of me as Lucky-the-girl-who-is-black? Or do you think about me as plain Lucky?"
"Am I allowed to think," Bobby asked, "or do I have to answer right away?"
"Right away or you forfeit your turn." She elbowed him.
"Ouch! Plain Lucky, then."
"Have you ever kissed a girl?" she asked him.
"Hey, it's my turn."
"Have you?"
"Nope," he said. "Well, not really."
"Not really? C'mon. 'Fess up."
"There was one time, last year, but it doesn't really count," he said.
"Tell me. I want to hear every juicy detail."
"It was dumb. I was staying over at my friend Mikes house. He has a sister, Melanie, a couple years older than me. Me and Mike stayed up talking about stuff until, like, two in the morning. Then I said something and he didn't answer. He'd fallen asleep. His sister Melanie answered instead. Her bedroom is right next to Mike's. She said, 'C'mere, you can see Orion's Belt perfectly through my window.' So I went over, and while we were standing there she tried to kiss me. I just went back to Mike's room and fell asleep."
"That doesn't count," Lucky said softly. To his great astonishment she kissed him on the mouth, right there on the deck outside her parents' bedroom. Bobby didn't know what to say.
***
Mr. Prescott drove him home. Bobby perched nervously in the front seat. He wondered if a father had a sixth sense that told him if a boy had been kissing his daughter. The man stayed quiet during the entire drive. Maybe he's mad at me, Bobby thought.
"So what do you think of the telescope?" Mr. Prescott asked when he pulled up to Bobbys house.
"It's great," Bobby said. "It opens up a whole new world."
"For me, looking at the stars puts things into perspective," Mr. Prescott said. He leaned back and scratched his beard. "When you look up at Andromeda galaxy, you realize that we're just the tiniest speck in this universe."
"Yes, sir." Bobby tried the door handle, but the door was locked.
"I hope you'll come again," Mr. Prescott said, unlocking the door.
"Me, too. Thanks a lot."
He got out of the car and hurried into the house.
October 11 (second entry)
If spiders are such solitary creatures, how do the males and females ever find each other? I've been reading stuff on how tarantulas mate. Captive spiders in a small tank can't avoid each other but in open wild spaces it must be much harder to find a mate.
Most male spiders wander more than females, so it's usually the males who find the females. They find a silk thread and they can tell right away if it was made by a female spider from their own species, and whether the female is ready to mate. If so, they follow that thread.
But finding a mate can be dangerous—especially for the male who is usually smaller and weaker than the female. Spiders are always ready to kill and eat almost any insect or small animal that comes within range. And they won't hesitate to eat each other.
When male spiders want to get together with female spiders they act in special ways to avoid being mistaken for just another juicy bug.
Some male spiders pluck the web of a female spider in a certain rhythm to let her know he's a friendly male who wants to mate.
The male of one species (Xysticus) protects himself during mating by fastening the female to the ground with silk threads.
When a male nursery web spider thinks he has found Miss Right he captures a fly, wraps it up, and gives it to her. She unwraps and eats his present—this gives him just enough time to mate with her. And escape.
A male crab spider ties up a female spider and while she's still wrapped up he is able to mate with her safely. After he leaves, she unties herself
Consider how the black widow got its name. The female allows the male to mate with her. And to show her appreciation she kills him. Eats him. This isn't some kind of fairy tale: it's a scientific fact.
It's lucky that human girls aren't this dangerous. Or who knows—maybe they are.
Eleven
On Tuesday morning Bobby brought Monk to school. He used an aquarium net to carefully catch the big spider and transfer him to a small terrarium. It was a cold morning. Bobby asked Dad to start the car and crank up the heat so Monk wouldn't get chilled. He carried the terrarium into Mr. Niezgocki's lab and put it next to Thelma's. The door opened.
"Thought I might find you in here," Lucky said.
"Meet Monk," Bobby said. "He's the king baboon spider I was telling you about. Mr. N was curious about him so I brought him in."
"Man," she said, peering in. "You know, I think he's even uglier than Thelma."
"I think he's beautiful," Bobby said.
"I know, but you're crazy," she reminded him.
"I can't keep him filled up. He loves those crickets."
"Oh please," she moaned, "I just had breakfast. Hey, what would happen if you put him in with Thelma? Would they, like, make lots of ugly babies?"
"He's pretty aggressive. You should hear the hissing sound he makes sometimes. No, I don't think Thelma would last long in a tank with him. Anyway, it wouldn't work. They're not the same species."
"They're not?" She bent closer. "Looks like a tarantula to me."
"Yeah, he is, but he's from Africa and she's from South America. Can't you see the difference? They—"
"You and me don't look alike either," Lucky said, putting her arm along his arm, dark skin and light. "Aren't we the same species?"
"Course we are," he said.
"All right, then."
"But it's different with tarantulas."
"Okay, it's different." She shrugged. "Hey, wish me luck today. This is my big day."
"Huh?"
"The big race after school. If it doesn't rain. Wish me luck."
"Good luck. Think you've got a chance?"
"A very slim one," she said with a sly grin.
"You're so darned sure of yourself," he said. "What if somebody beats you? It could happen, you know."
"I know," she said, deadpan.
"And?"
"I figure I can always become a cheerleader. Or a pom-pom girl."
"Yeah, right."
"Hey, listen." She looked down. "Abou
t last night. You know, what happened ... I was thinking we should stay ... friends. You know?"
"Yeah," he said, nodding.
"I'm still getting used to this crazy place," Lucky said. "I'm not ready for a boyfriend right now. Are you?"
"Ready for a boyfriend?" Bobby laughed. "No, I don't think so."
"You know what I mean!" She offered her hand. "Friends?"
"Friends," he said.
They shook hands very formally and burst out laughing.
When Lucky left the lab, Bobby took a deep breath. She was right. He felt a huge wave of relief. But he also felt the tiniest sliver of something else. Sadness, maybe. Or regret.
***
"Clear your desks for the test," Mr. Niezgocki said at the beginning of science class. Groans. Mr. Niezgocki stood at the front of the room holding a thick pile of test papers.
"As you all know we've just begun a new honor system, and that's going to mean a few changes in the way we do things around here. I will no longer act as a policeman during a test. You're too old for that, and so am I. I trust you to behave yourselves. I may leave the room for a few minutes while you're taking the test. Under the honor system you'll have more freedom, but there is also more responsibility put on you to be honest and to insure that your peers are being honest."
Somebody snickered from the back of the room. Mr. Niezgocki glared at him.
"Do you find that funny, Mr. Carroll?"
"No," the boy said.
"This is an experiment. I think it's important. It's not very often you get to shape the kind of school you go to. It's up to you. If it doesn't work, if people abuse it, we'll go back to the old way of teachers babysitting students. I hope that doesn't happen."
The geology test packet came to Bobby. Question number one: Describe at least three different terrains a river might pass through from its source water to the ocean. Describe the interplay between the river and this terrain. Specifically, how does the river affect the terrain? In what ways does the terrain affect the river? Question number two: Name three ways glaciers permanently changed the landscapes through which they passed.
Bobby gulped.
He started to write, dredging up from memory the answers he knew or thought he knew. After about ten minutes he realized that Mr. Niezgocki had left the room. Other kids looked up, realized they were alone, and went back to work. It felt weird to be sitting in a roomful of kids his age with no adult around. And nobody talking.
Then Bobby spotted Chick Hall at the front of the room, leaning to his left and furiously copying off Scott Shanahan's test paper. Scott's paper was pushed all the way to the right so Chick could get a good look at the answers.
Bobby felt a flush of anger. Scott was one of those popular, tough kids who still managed to get high grades. Chick Hall would ace this test simply by copying Scotts answers.
Cheating. And no teacher around to see it, let alone stop it.
Bobby glanced over at Lucky. She met his gaze and rolled her eyes at him, but he realized she only meant how hard the test was. From her seat, she probably couldn't see Chick at all.
When Mr. Niezgocki returned to the room, Chicks gaze snapped back to his own test. Mr. Niezgocki stayed for five minutes, but when he left again Chicks eyes flew back to Scotts test. He started copying some more, his pencil moving even faster than before. Nobody else seemed to notice it.
Bobby glanced up and saw that he'd already wasted at least ten minutes. Forget about Chick, he told himself. You cant do a thing about that. Concentrate! Think rock! Faults and folds. Plate tectonics. Sedimentary rocks are made in layers. Fossils are often found in sedimentary rocks. Igneous and metamorphic rocks—one made from fire, the other through pressure. Which is which? He worked hard to catch up, moving swiftly trying not to make careless errors.
"Times up," Mr. Niezgocki announced. Kids looked up, blinked, groaned. Bobby still had two questions to go.
"That was hard, Mr. N," one boy said.
Chick Hall stretched and loudly cracked his knuckles.
"Before you pass in your test, there's something you need to read on the bottom of the last page," Mr. Niezgocki said. "It says, 'On my honor I know of no cheating on this test/ Under the new honor system, whenever you take a test you must read that and sign your name below it. If you are aware of cheating on this test, you should sign your name and draw a line through your signature. Is that clear? Sign your name no matter what. You may hand me your test on the way out of the room."
On my honor I know of no cheating on this test. On my honor I know of no cheating on this test. On my honor. Bobby read and reread those words. Each time they brought back the picture of Chick copying off Scott's paper.
He signed his name. And drew a dark line through it.
"That was a bear!" Lucky whispered outside the room.
"It was easier for some people than for others," Bobby said.
"Meaning you?" she asked.
"Forget it."
"I'm depressed," Lucky told him.
"The test?"
"Look," Lucky said. She pointed to a window through which they could see rain spattering the dark asphalt outside the cafetorium. "No race. Like I said, when I can't run, I get glum."
***
After school Bobby found Mr. Niezgocki waiting for him in the lab, a serious expression on his face.
"Sit down," he said. "I just saw your test paper."
"How'd I do?" Bobby asked.
"You know what I'm talking about."
"Yeah." Bobby lowered his eyes.
"You know, Bobby, I was one of the people here who really pushed for this honor system," Mr. Niezgocki said. He stood and began pacing back and forth. "Lots of teachers thought kids in this school weren't ready for it. I argued that it was just what kids needed. I still think so. I really want it to work here. It's so important to give you young people choices here, now, where we can help you see the consequences of those choices."
Bobby looked at him.
"You're sure you saw somebody cheating?" Mr. Niezgocki asked. "Could you possibly have been mistaken?"
"Mistaken?"
"A few weeks ago you wrote an imaginative essay about your father's silk farm." Mr. Niezgocki folded his arms. "That turned out to be fiction. Just wondering if this might be another fiction."
"You think this is just another story I'm making up." Bobby looked down at the floor.
"Is it?" the man asked.
"No!" Bobby replied sharply. "You don't have to believe me. But I'm telling the truth."
"I do believe you," Mr. Niezgocki said glumly. "I wish I didn't, but I do."
"Did anybody else cross out their names?"
"No." Mr. Niezgocki sighed. "I have to admit I'm curious about who it is you saw cheating. But I should tell you that you don't have to name the person. You've already done everything you're supposed to do."
"I'd rather not say," Bobby said after a moment.
I see.
"I guess maybe I shouldn't have crossed out my name," Bobby said.
"No," Mr. Niezgocki said. "You did the right thing, young man. But sometimes doing the right thing puts other people in a tough spot."
***
Next morning on the way to science class, Bobby heard a familiar cry.
"Hey, Spider Boy!" It was Chick Hall with a gang of three. "How's the spider business? Eat any good bugs lately?"
Raucous laughter. Bobby tried to move around him, but Chick blocked his way.
"C'mon, Spider Boy, don't be like that," Chick said. "You know, I'm your biggest fan! I got all your comics!"
All at once Chick lurched forward and pushed Bobby in the chest. Bobby could see himself as if in slow motion, falling backward over someone who had knelt behind him, his books and notebooks spilling all over the place.
"Nice trip?" Chick asked, extending his hand. Bobby ignored it. He gathered his books and got up, flustered but unhurt.
"Hey, Chick," he said, motioning him closer. When Chick drew close en
ough Bobby whispered, "I got a new nickname for you. Chick the Cheat."
Chick stepped back like he'd been struck.
"What'd he say?" Scott Shanahan asked Chick as Bobby turned and walked into Mr. Niezgocki's class.
***
Mr. Niezgocki had a murderous expression on his face as students filed into his classroom. He sat on the corner of his desk with two stacks of papers beside him.
"Bad news, guys." He pointed at one stack of papers. "Yesterday someone in this class saw cheating. On this test."
Gasps.
"Cheating." Mr. Niezgocki stood up and paced, letting the sound of the word spread through the classroom. "Cheating. And I have no good reason not to believe the person who reported it. I take this very seriously. Cheating gives one person an unfair advantage over the honest students in this class. It is wrong and I will not tolerate it."
He looked out at the class. Nobody moved.
"Here's what is going to happen. I'm going to give you the test again. We are going to have to spend valuable class time doing something we've already done." He pointed at the second stack of papers. "We will begin now. Same material, just different questions. This time I will stay in the room to monitor you."
There was a chorus of groans as he began passing out the tests.
"It's not fair!" someone muttered. "I didn't cheat!"
"Absolutely no talking!" Mr. Niezgocki said.
Bobby sat, frozen. He took a deep breath. Lucky looked over at him, rolling her eyes as if to say, "Can you believe this?" Several kids swiveled around angrily, raking the class with accusing eyes that asked, "Who squealed?"
He couldn't see Chick's face. Bobby kept hoping that Chick would glance back at him, just once, but Chick kept his face and body hunched forward the whole time. When the bell rang, Chick handed in his test and bolted from the room.
***
That afternoon Bobby and Butch hurried outside to watch the race. The rain had stopped; there was a slight chill in the air. Bobby watched Lucky stretching at the side of the track. She was wearing her headband and dark blue racing trunks. It wasn't hard at all to imagine her in the Olympics. He could clearly picture it, Lucky Prescott being interviewed by a famous sports broadcaster:
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