"You no different from them other girls."
"Why don't you listen? Your sister needs help," I said.
The oldest sister shut the other ones up. "Charlene been acting strange. Sometimes she'd be like the sister she was supposed to be, and other times she'd act like she wanted no part of us around her."
"You going to tell your mother?" I asked.
"Have to."
"What will she do?"
"Kill her."
Amir, you can imagine how I felt, but things got even worse, and I began to wish that I'd minded my own business. Charlene and I had promised to keep each other's secrets. Now hers were all over the Bronx because of me. The rumor factory got to working overtime. People said that I caused Charlene to be sent to a home for juvenile delinquents.
Even my mother heard. Nosy Nichols told her that I'd gotten Charlene in trouble. I told her the whole story even though I didn't want to. I was afraid I'd be under punishment until I was fifty years old if I didn't.
My mother surprised me, though. She didn't rant and rave. All she asked was "You didn't try it, did you?"
"No."
"Don't lie to me. Kids try things. But I don't want you to lie to me about it."
"Ma, the truth, the God's honest truth, I didn't." My mother always knows when I'm lying anyhow. Says she can see the word LIAR flashing in each eyeball like a neon sign when I'm not telling the truth. So she let up. But she wouldn't let go. She decided to talk to Charlene's mother herself.
I begged her not to. "You don't even know her that well."
"I'll get to know her now. If it was you, Doris, I'd want her to tell me. We have to protect all of you kids I'm talking to Charlene's mother in case those sisters forget to tell her what's going on."
I understand what the word "humiliated" means now. So much more than embarrassed. I was mortified, humiliated, ashamed. No one spoke to me—only Yellow Bird, who told me that people were saying that I was a snitch and that my mother was a busybody.
I learned a new word: PARIAH
Last year my teacher tried to teach us that word, but it wasn't interesting to me, so I ignored her. But now I know the word. It's me. Here's an old corny joke: From now on, when they define the word "pariah" in the dictionary, my picture will be next to it. Outcast, outsider, hated person. Everyone is angry with me—even Lavinia and the twins, who don't like Charlene.
And to top it all off, my father was looking in the phone book for the number of some man in Manhattan and found that a page was torn out. He's been mumbling and grousing about it ever since.
Well, Amir, I'm going to end this letter. My mother is taking me to the store to buy some extra school supplies. School started last week. But this is not the end of my story. Some surprising things happened at the Sunday school picnic. Will tell you all about it the next time I write.
I hope you are not feeling too sad and that everything will turn out perfect for you and your family.
Gotta go now.
Love,
Doris
part five
Lost and Found
Amir folded Doris's letter neatly and put it back in his jacket pocket. He'd read it for the second time. Her words echoed in his head, and whether she knew it or not, they were helping him decide what to do. It was strange, he thought, that he'd received her letter the very morning he and Ronald and the Smiths had left the house to come here to the family court hearing.
All during the car ride he'd thought about what he'd say. He'd tried to block out Ronald's incessant questions: "Will the judge put me in jail?" "Will he send me away?" "Is Amir talking to the judge, too?" "When will my brothers and sisters be back?" "Are they talking to the judge? " "Will they be there?"
Grace and Alvin had reassured Ronald. "Don't worry." "Everything is okay." "You're not going to jail, silly."
Now he and Amir were sitting in the family court waiting room. Amir glanced at the large oak doors leading to the judge's chambers. He wondered what was going on. Was Uncle Zachary nervously wiping his sweaty forehead? Was Aunt Gloria angry? Was Miss Grace crying and Mister Alvin demanding something?
Ronald had already made a friend. He and another boy his age were looking through a sports magazine for kids. Amir wished he had his sketchpad so he could draw the other children and people sitting around the waiting room.
The door to the judge's chambers opened, and his aunt and uncle and the Smiths walked out. All their faces looked like stone. Amir could hardly bear to meet their gaze. For a moment he would have liked to crawl under one of the coffee tables in the room and hide. He thought about his parents. Why did you guys leave me in all this confusion?
The guard motioned for Amir to enter the judge's chambers. As he crossed the room, his aunt stared at him, making him feel guilty. "Think about your dear mother and what she wanted," she said sharply.
Grace looked as if she'd been crying, but he wasn't sure. It seemed as though she was always crying since his aunt's visit.
Mister Alvin cut his eyes at Aunt Gloria and then smiled at Amir. "It's going to be all right, son. Whatever you decide is okay."
Grace nodded. "We'll be fine. We're all still on the same planet." She tried to smile.
Amir entered a large room with books lining the wall. The guard motioned for him to sit before the judge, who was looking over some papers. Amir's heart beat fast, and his hands felt clammy. He tried to calm himself by remembering what his father used to tell him: When you help someone else, you help yourself, too. He remembered Doris's words as well: You are Ronald's memory.
The judge finally looked up and smiled at Amir. "How are you? Amir? Amir Daniels?"
"Yes, ma'am, that's right. I'm fine." He calmed down a little because something about the judge's round face and smooth tan complexion reminded him of Miss Grace.
"I'm Judge Michaels. Do you know why you're here?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Relax now. I'm not going to hurt you. We just want to do what's best for you and your brothers and sisters. Have you been happy and comfortable living with the Smiths?"
"Yes. They're very nice foster parents."
"I see here you lived with your aunt for a short time, and then you moved?"
"Yes."
"Were you happy with your aunt?"
"I was upset about my parents."
"So you didn't leave because of your aunt and uncle?"
"No, ma'am. They took good care of me."
"I understand. What about your brother Ronald. You and he getting along?"
"Yes."
"Do you think he's happy living with the Smiths?"
"He loves them. He thinks they're his parents."
The judge paused and gave Amir a long look. "What do you want to do? Your aunt is requesting that you and Ronald live with her and the other children. She and your uncle are prepared to care for all of you. Now, tell me: Where do you want to live?"
Amir licked his dry lips. "Wherever Ronald lives."
The judge looked at him over her glasses. "You mean that you don't want to live with the Smiths?"
"I like living with them. They're real good parents."
"I'm trying to understand, you don't want to live with your aunt?"
"I want to live with Ronald. Wherever he has to live."
"Son, you're not really telling me anything. Your aunt wants you, and the court prefers to keep children in a family together if at all possible. So I wish you'd give me an answer."
"I'm Ronald's memory, ma'am, so I have to stay with him. Wherever he goes, I'll go along with him."
"You don't care where you live?"
"I do care, but I'm used to living in different places. But Ronald only knows about living with the Smiths."
"Are you saying that Ronald shouldn't go with your aunt so that all of you children can be together? Do you think that he should stay with the Smiths?"
"Yes."
"So you want to live with the Smiths, too?"
Amir hesitated, but only for a
moment. "Yes, ma'am."
Wednesday evening
September 23rd
Dear Doris,
Please don't feel like you did the wrong thing by helping Charlene. I think it's good you told her sisters. Don't worry about what people say. You know the truth, and you didn't get her in trouble—you probably kept her out of bigger trouble. Maybe her mother is making her stay in the house and that's why you don't see her. People tell lies. I don't think she's in a home for bad kids. You did the right thing.
Things have not been so great around here either. I mean Miss Grace and Mister Alvin are still kind to me—that never changes no matter what, but everything feels sad.
Mister Alvin isn't noisy and cracking jokes, and Miss Grace isn't baking as much as she used to—only when she has to for a customer. We didn't go to the lake or barbecue for Labor Day because it rained.
Even Ronald is tripping. Whining all the time and complaining that he doesn't want to go to school. A third-grade dropout. Maybe he's afraid that he'll come home from school and everyone will be gone. He told me he wants me to stay with him. Can you believe that?
We had the hearing today and I spoke to the judge. Even though I didn't follow your advice, your letter helped me more than you know. I was feeling like I was split in two. All I could do was think about this situation until it made me crazy—going backward and forward in my mind. But your words and Ronald begging me to stay helped me to make a decision.
I told the judge I wanted to stay with Miss Grace and Mister Alvin, because I felt that if I said I wanted to go with my aunt and uncle, then the judge would make Ronald go with them, too. Now we're waiting to hear what the judge decides.
I haven't told this to anyone else yet. Doris, I want to make everyone happy, but I can't. There's no perfect solution. Mostly, I worry about Ronald and the Smiths. I'm used to being sad, but Ronald isn't. I'm seeing that Mister Alvin and Miss Grace really are his mom and dad. If the judge sends Ronald with my aunt, then I'll ask to go with him. On the other hand, though, if he goes with my aunt, we'll be living in the city again! All of us together. Brooklyn is not perfect, but it's closer to the Bronx than Syracuse is. But I'd still feel sorry for Mister Alvin and Miss Grace.
School started up here, too, but I haven't been thinking about school or anything else. I'll let you know what happens.
Doris, I haven't forgotten about the drawing of the lake. Trust me, you'll get it.
Love,
Amir
THE BRONX NEWS
Final Issue
Editor, Star Reporter, and Owner,
DORIS WILLIAMS
Monday, September 28th
TODAY'S WEATHER. Perfect—warm with a touch of fall crispness
NEWS FEATURE. The Labor Day/
Sunday School Picnic
by D Williams
The Sunday school picnic is another major event of the year on 163rd Street. This one was no different. It seemed like everyone who'd been at the block party was also at the picnic—including Charlene's sisters and their mother; only Charlene was missing. The picnic was held at Bear Mountain.
Charlene's sisters, Doris, and her ex-friends rode the same bus. All of the parents were on it, too. Since there is so much bad feeling among the kids, instead of piling up in the back of the bus so that they could play around and have fun, all of them sat near the front with the adults.
Only Charlene's sisters sat in the back of the bus, and they were quiet, which was very scary.
The adults laughed and told corny jokes—even Miss Connie, Charlene's mother. Would Miss Connie be this happy if her daughter was in some kind of juvenile home? Doris wondered. And would she be laughing and joking with Doris's mom if she thought that she was a busybody?
When they reached Bear Mountain, they found a good spot near the basketball and volleyball courts, with plenty of tables to put the food out on and trees to spread the blankets under. As soon as they had everything laid out, the Sunday school picnic began. Russell, Yellow Bird, and the other boys were everywhere—trying to get as much food as they could from their own mothers and everyone else's.
Doris had a sad conversation with her mother.
Mother: Doris, what's wrong?
Doris: Nothing.
Mother: I think there is. Seems to me you don't bother with your friends anymore.
Doris: Everyone hates me. They call me a snitch.
Her mother put her arm around her. "Doris, it's not always easy to do what's correct. But I don't want you to ever feel bad about doing what's right! Me and your daddy are proud of you. Because you told about Charlene, the block association is getting even more serious about cleaning up that playground."
Her mother's words did not make Doris feel any better about telling on Charlene.
So Doris looked at the trees with their fat dark green leaves and the clear blue sky. There wasn't a cloud anywhere except the one that hung over her shoulder. Doris tried very hard not to feel lonely as she watched everyone else running, playing, laughing, and talking. Then the games began.
First there was the usual potato-sack race, which Yellow Bird and Big Russell won. The volleyball game, boys against girls, put Charlene's sisters, Lavinia, and the twins on the same team. When one of the twins made a good serve, one of the sisters yelled, "Go, twin." Then they gave each other high fives when the boys missed their serve. Perhaps they'd forgotten that they didn't like each other.
Then the most unexpected event occurred. Doris felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Miss Connie, Charlene's mama. "Hi, baby," she said. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"
Doris nodded and had trouble looking Charlene's mother in the face. She thought the woman was going to bless her out for talking about her daughter.
Instead Miss Connie said, "I just wanted to thank you, sweetie, for telling us about Charlene. She's with her grandparents down South and is doing well. And as for that wild T.T., he just got put out of gangster academy. I talked to his father, and Mr. T.T. is in serious trouble."
The cloud hanging over Doris's shoulder began to vanish. Maybe she wasn't a pariah anymore.
The girls won the volleyball game, and everyone got ready for the father-son basketball game, scrambling to get the best place to sit and watch the men lose to the boys like they do every year. Doris made a momentous decision. She owed Lavinia and the twins an apology, but they owed her one, too.
He ex-friends were sitting at one of the picnic tables, and as Doris walked over to them, she wasn't sure what she was going to say or how she was going to say it.
The twins ignored her, but Lavinia, whose mouth is never still, said, "Well, look who's here."
"I'm apologizing for calling you liars," Doris said very quickly, before she changed her mind.
Lavinia crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You want to be friends again, huh?"
"I just wanted to apologize, that's all. But you owe me an apology, too."
"For what?" one of the twins asked.
"Because you weren't completely correct. The sisters weren't fooling with drugs"
"Yeah, only your buddy Charlene."
"And that's not all true, either," Doris said.
Lavinia held up her hand like she was some kind of spokeswoman for the group.
"We apologize, too, for all of the things we said about you, but you can't be on the team again. We have a replacement for you."
"I don't want to be on the team," Doris said.
Lavinia made a space for Doris on the bench, and they nearly died laughing as they watched the boys wear the men out on the basketball court. It was a beautiful day.
ADVERTISEMENT
Still waiting for one drawing of a lake
OBITUARY
Yellow Bird and his family are moving!
Big Russell and his family are moving, too!
My Dear Amir,
So now you have the end of the story. I guess you could say the Sunday school picnic was a success, and I am no longer the most hated girl in the Br
onx. But I'm glad this crazy summer is over. Middle school is so different. Instead of having one annoying and boring teacher throughout the day, now I have five—one for every subject. (Just joking. The teachers are okay.)
I feel better because of what Charlene's mother said, but I don't feel totally good. Charlene is like a little itch on the back of my head that I can't scratch. She probably still thinks that I'm the worst person in the world. By the way, I heard that T.T. is handcuffed to his daddy and can't go nowhere without him.
Have you heard yet from the family court? What did the judge have to say? Will you be moving back to the city? We will always be friends to the end no matter where we live.
Love,
Doris
Friday evening
October 9th
Dear Doris,
I'm glad to see that The Bronx News is back. But no more issues? You're not the worst person in the world. I think you need to stop feeling bad about Charlene. One day she'll understand.
I am sorry I took so long to write you back, but I wanted to wait until I had some real news to tell you. It's been so hard waiting every day to hear what the judge's decision would be. Mister Alvin said that no matter what she said, he'd continue the fight. "Take it all the way to the United States Supreme Court."
Mister Alvin tried to joke, but he wasn't like his old self. He never once asked me what I'd said to the judge. The old Mister Alvin would've been pumping me for information until Miss Grace made him give it up. He wanted to stop having family devotions, too, but Miss Grace insisted. The same thing was bothering all of us, so there was no reason to talk about that. Miss Grace would just read a short Bible verse and call it a night. It was too hard for them to do more than that, because they didn't know how long we'd be a family.
Yesterday I heard Miss Grace say, "His blood relatives have rights, too. Maybe we need to think about the reality. After all, we're just foster parents." And then she began to cry. But she always kept her usual smile for Ronald. He's in school, and trying to play basketball and look at all of the television he can get away with looking at.
One True Friend Page 9