by Lenore Look
“Are you at twenty-eight zero seven?” asked the operator.
“Wow,” said Ruby.
“Hello?” said the operator. “State your exact location.”
“Next to the refrigerator,” said Ruby.
“Do you need medical attention?”
“No,” said Ruby.
“Does someone there need help?”
Ruby nodded.
“Hello?” said the operator.
“Oscar stuck something up his nose,” Ruby blurted. “And he can’t breathe!”
Oscar was screaming like a banshee.
Suddenly 9-1-1 wasn’t so exciting anymore. Ruby dropped the phone and ran to him.
Poor Oscar. He was very uncomfortable. He couldn’t breathe through his nose. And when he cried, he couldn’t breathe at all! Help was on the way, but just then he became unusually quiet and unusually purple. Then he was a little limp and a little blue.
“Aiyaaaaaaaah!” PohPoh screamed.
Ruby froze. She did not know what to do.
Flying Duck froze too. Then she did something that Ruby had never seen before. It was strange. And it was completely gross. She quickly sealed her mouth over one of Oscar’s nostrils and sucked. Sluuuurp!
It was a little tricky. Oscar had baby nostrils.
But Flying Duck was a regular vacuum. She had seen mothers in China do this whenever their babies couldn’t breathe.
Then … schlooot! One heavy little pellet slid into Flying Duck’s mouth, and she spat it on the table. Dok!
Ruby gasped.
Flying Duck moved to the next nostril. Schlooot! She spat out the second pellet. And pak! They clicked together on the table.
“Our magnets!” Ruby cried.
“It’s miracle!” PohPoh cried.
And it was. Flying Duck had saved Oscar’s life.
“Waaaaaaaaaah!” Oscar screamed. He turned pink.
Owowowowowow! The sirens screamed outside.
Lights flashed. It was the most exciting afternoon of Ruby’s life. A small crowd had gathered on the sidewalk. The ambulance people were racing up the front steps to her house, just like on TV.
“Wow,” Ruby said. Then she realized that none of these marvelous things would be happening if Flying Duck hadn’t come from China. Her breath made a little cloud on the front window, where she stood watching the excitement with Flying Duck.
The entire afternoon would have been boring without her cousin.
Ruby’s life would be boring.
Ruby blinked.
Then she looked at Flying Duck. Her cousin was breathing on the window too. Between the two of them, there were quite a number of clouds, perfect for writing in.
“Flying Duck,” Ruby said, spelling out her cousin’s name in one of the clouds.
“Look, Flying Duck,” she said, pointing to her writing on the window.
Aw-some
Talented
Magnifeecent
Frendly
Helpful
Happy
Wunderful
Humbul
No. 1 cousin
Some girl
Ruby stepped back to admire her work. She took a deep breath.
“Thanks for saving Oscar’s life,” Ruby finally said, remembering to wiggle her thumbs.
“And thanks for being here,” she added, giving Flying Duck a big hug.
Suddenly immigration wasn’t quite so miserable anymore. Ruby’s mother had been right. It didn’t even seem so scary.
But was it ever going to get easier?
Ruby blinked.
What if it didn’t? What if it never got easier?
Ruby swallowed.
It didn’t matter, she decided. For the first time since Flying Duck arrived, Ruby felt like her cousin belonged right where she was.
Deaf Is Not a Disadvantage
Being a Smile Buddy was a big responsibility.
Ruby kept her room a little neater.
She brushed her hair, regularly.
She flossed her teeth.
She ate her Brussels sprouts.
She was nice to her brother, mostly.
She wore her Smile Buddy pin, always.
And for the first time ever, Ruby worked diligently at her Chinese school homework.
She studied her characters.
She practiced her vocabulary.
She listened to her tapes.
She even made a little ink and gave her brush a little workout.
“A miracle,” Ruby’s mother said. “A true miracle.”
Ruby beamed. Learning Chinese was not easy. It took a lot of concentration. But slowly—and with Flying Duck’s help—Ruby began to understand her cousin and her aunt and uncle a little better.
Ruby could hardly be more responsible.
But she was.
At school Ruby became a dispenser of valuable information. She stood up at the beginning of Reading Carpet Time and made a speech.
“Never sneak up on a deaf person,” Ruby said. Her voice wobbled just a little, but mostly it was firm, like Jell-O. Making a speech was a little scary. “Get her attention first by calling her name or waving.”
It was a helpful idea. Everyone sat up and listened.
The next day Ruby made another speech. “Look a deaf person smack in the eye”—she demonstrated—“before you speak.”
The class was riveted.
“If you don’t understand each other, write it out,” Ruby said in another speech.
“If she doesn’t understand you, say it differently,” she added the day after that.
Ruby’s observations were keen and insightful.
Even Ruby’s teacher, Mr. Tupahotu, was impressed. So Ruby’s Tips and Helpful Hints became a daily fixture at the beginning of Reading Carpet Time.
“Deaf is not a disadvantage. The only thing a deaf person can’t do is hear.”
“Speak clearly and do not exaggerate mouth movements.”
“Do not chew gum.”
Flying Duck nodded. Gum chewing made lip-reading impossible.
Then came Ruby’s most important speech of all:
“After repeating yourself twenty times, never say, ‘Forget it, it’s not important.’”
Ruby puffed out her chest. Her Smile Buddy pin shimmered just so. Ruby beamed.
Ruby’s latest speech was so important that Mr. Tupahotu wrote it on the board. In cursive.
It was very impressive.
But that was not all.
One day Ruby got picked for the most responsible task of all.
She got to take Flying Duck to the nurse’s office for her eye test.
Usually children at Kimball Elementary got their eyes tested in the fall. That way, if you needed glasses, you could have them for the whole year. But because Flying Duck didn’t emigrate until spring break, she didn’t get an eye test until it was nearly the end of the school year.
Ruby could hardly believe her luck.
Ruby loved the eye test. In fact, she had a copy of it taped to the ceiling above her bed. At night she often fell asleep practicing it through one eye or another, just as a musician might practice a piece of music. She knew that she’d have to make it all the way to the end of the chart perfectly to get glasses. And she had wanted glasses ever since she could remember.
But no matter how much she practiced, every year the nurse would stop Ruby at the end of the same line, and her turn would be over. And the next person in line would step up and begin to read. But now there would be no line … Maybe the nurse wouldn’t be in such a hurry. Maybe it was Ruby’s lucky day!
“I-W-T-M-Y,” Flying Duck read with one eye covered.
Ruby gasped.
Whenever Flying Duck spoke English, it always came out wrong. Mostly it sounded like Chinese. But Ruby was used to hearing English like that. And she could make it sound like English.
“T-V-I-N-P!” Ruby translated for her.
“F-V-D-B-G!” Flying Duck said, covering her other eye.
“A-P-E-O-D!” Ruby translated again. Flying Duck had gotten it all wrong!
The school nurse stopped. She looked at Ruby. Then she looked at Flying Duck.
“She can’t read English too well, even with both eyes open,” Ruby said. “So I have to translate for her.”
“Oh?” said Miss Wong, the nurse.
“I can read anything with just one eye,” Ruby added proudly, covering one eye. She demonstrated.
“How about this?” Miss Wong pointed to a smaller line.
“B-T-S-O-A!” Ruby recited excitedly.
Miss Wong scribbled on her notepad.
“Try this.” Miss Wong pointed to a barely visible line.
Ruby squinted really hard. She could hardly believe it. Miss Wong was giving her the eye test too!
“D-Q-C-O-F!” Ruby said from memory.
“Hmmm,” said Miss Wong. She made another note.
Ruby had to think fast. It was her last chance at glasses until next fall. She was so close, she could almost feel a little plastic frame resting on the bridge of her nose. So she squeezed both eyes shut and blurted out the last two lines on the chart, letter for letter, just like that.
When she opened her eyes, Miss Wong’s eyes were wide open too.
It was the first time Ruby ever got through the whole eye test.
Maybe it was even the first time anyone tried it with their eyes closed.
It was very impressive.
But that was not all.
When Ruby and Flying Duck got back to class …
A letter arrived.
RUBY LU, ROOM 11, it said in fancy letters. The envelope was bright red. Mr. Tupahotu set it on Ruby’s desk with a smile.
“Open it when you get home,” he said.
The entire class turned and stared. Mr. Tupahotu had no more red envelopes to hand out. So naturally Ruby thought she was busted, and so did everyone else. Letters handed out by teachers are scary in that way. They make you jittery. And Ruby was not unfamiliar with scary letters or the jitters.
So naturally it was very difficult for Ruby not to peek. She waited as long as she could (about five seconds) … and then … when Mr. Tupahotu turned his back to the class, Ruby made her move.
Dear Smile Buddy, the letter began in beautiful curlicue letters. Being a Smile Buddy is a big responsibility. It took Ruby’s breath away.
Nothing could be more exciting, the letter continued.
Ruby’s mouth opened in surprise. It was as if the letter were repeating her thoughts!
“Are you busted?” whispered Tiger, who was sitting next to Ruby.
Ruby ignored him.
“Please open your books to page thirty-eight,” said Mr. Tupahotu from the front of the room.
Ruby ignored him, too.
She slipped the letter between the pages of her book. She read on breathlessly. Her fingers guided her eyes slowly but steadily across the words.
Thank you for being a Smile Buddy this year, Ruby continued silently, carefully stringing each word like macaroni on a necklace. You’ve helped someone feel welcome.
“Ruby, would you please read for us, beginning at the top of the page?” Mr. Tupahotu asked.
Ruby was a very good reader. Her eyes could move ahead of her lips so that she could see what words were coming before they fell out of her mouth. She had learned to do this by the end of first grade. So that now, near the end of second grade, she could roll at a pretty good clip. In fact, she could read so well that whenever she got started, she couldn’t stop until she’d run out of words. And often she was asked to read first, to set the rhythm and pace for the rest of the class.
“This has been an awesome year for Smile Buddies,” Ruby read, loud and clear. “You and your buddy are invited to the annual Smile Buddy Tea.”
Wow. It was a dream come true! Ruby could hardly believe her eyes.
“Please bring ten dollars and a dessert,” Ruby read excitedly. “The ten dollars will pay for T-shirts for you and your buddy. You will get to meet other buddies. There will be a fun activity. Please do not forget your ten dollars and dessert, or you and your buddy will be without a shirt and dessert. See you there, with both ten dollars and a dessert! Sincerely, The Smile Buddy Committee.
“P.S. Don’t forget to bring your buddy.” Ruby finally ran out of words. She looked up.
The class split open like a great big watermelon. Laughter dripped everywhere.
Oops. Ruby had read from the top of the page, but it was not the page of her textbook—it was her red letter!
“Ruby, please bring me that letter,” Mr. Tupahotu said. Usually he praised Ruby for her reading ability. But not this time.
Ruby was busted. She wished she were a pigeon and could fly out the window with her letter. But she couldn’t. She got up slowly from her desk.
“I will keep this for you,” her teacher said.
Then the red envelope with the matching red letter disappeared into Mr. Tupahotu’s desk drawer.
Ruby’s stomach nearly lurched into the drawer too.
She wanted to cry.
It was Ruby’s first fancy invitation with her name on it. And just like that, it was gone.
“Don’t worry,” Wally whispered. “He’ll probably give it back to you at the end of the day.”
But Ruby was worried. Anything could happen.
Her invitation could get thrown out with desk junk.
The school might burn down.
The world might end.
Or worse, Mr. Tupahotu might forget about it completely.
Ruby crossed her fingers and held her breath.
At lunch she made a wish upon her turkey tofu pup.
At recess she consulted her origami fortune-teller.
As a last resort she sent her teacher mind-controlling stares from across the room, several times.
But nothing worked.
Ruby felt terrible.
But at the end of the day—surprise, surprise—Ruby’s wishes and hocus-pocus began to work! Mr. Tupahotu opened his drawer … and pulled out … a letter … and pinned it … to Flying Duck’s sweater.
Ruby’s mouth opened in surprise. She could hardly believe her eyes. She squinted, just to be sure.
But before Ruby had a chance to remind him that he might have something in there for her, he pulled out an identical envelope and pinned it to Ruby’s sweater!
But it was not the right letter.
The envelope was sealed.
It was addressed to The Parents of …
It was the wrong color. These letters were not invitation red at all. They were official, you-are-so-busted white.
Worse, no one else got a letter. This was not a good sign.
“Iorana korua,” Mr. Tupahotu said. He always said good-bye in Rapa Nui.
“lorana koe,” everyone replied.
Everyone, that is, except Ruby.
Ruby was speechless.
The Earth stopped.
The sun went out.
Worst of all, when Ruby reached to adjust her World’s Best Smile Buddy pin, she couldn’t. The letter was fastened in such a way that it covered her pin totally and completely, just like a full solar eclipse.
How to Feel Like a Winner
Pinned letters cast a terrifying spell. They loom large. They make you forget everything else.
Flying Duck had no idea what a pinned letter meant.
But Ruby did.
Report cards are pinned.
Homework notices are pinned.
News about getting shots is pinned.
News about getting busted is pinned.
Ruby had had many letters pinned to her sweater. It was never good news. In fact, it was always bad news. Really important bad news.
To make matters even worse, someone who was good at guessing could usually figure out exactly what a pinned letter said.
“You two are so busted,” Christina said. Christina was a bully when she first moved to 20th Avenue South. For a while she looke
d like a strange bird after school, her many pinned letters flapping like feathers, she was that bad. So she knew all about being busted.
“But we didn’t do anything wrong,” Ruby said.
“Then why would you get busted?” Wally asked.
Ruby shrugged.
“Think hard,” Tiger urged.
Ruby could not think hard. She could hardly think at all.
“Have you been doing your homework?” Christina asked.
“Most of the time,” Ruby said. “Well … sort of.” She hesitated. “But I do Flying Duck’s!”
“Then you should be getting a star, not a letter,” Wally said, scratching his head.
“Have you been in a fight?”
“No.”
“Did you return your library books?”
“Yes.”
“Did you pick up your summer reading list?”
“I think so.”
“Wait a minute … ,” Tiger began, “if you’ve only been ‘sort of’ doing your homework … and you’ve been doing Flying Duck’s, that means that she isn’t doing her work at all, and you’re not doing yours, right?” Ruby leaned to one side, then to the other. Her yoga leg stretched up, then it came down. Finally she nodded.
“This could mean only one thing, then,” Tiger concluded. “You’re both flunking out!”
Ruby let out a little cry, but clapped her hand over her mouth. Flunking out ran in her family. Her father was a Chinese school FOB. Her mother repeated citizenship class three times. And Ruby herself had nearly flunked kindergarten.
“You’re pan-fried noodle,” Emma whispered. Emma was a little anxious and always expected the worst.
But not Christina. Christina was from California. She expected sunshine even when it was thunderstorms with a chance of electrocution.
“They can’t flunk you if your parents don’t sign the letter,” she said.
Ruby took a deep breath. A good Smile Buddy was always prepared.
So halfway between school and home, where there were no grown-ups, and where all sorts of trouble begin, Ruby unpinned her letter.
Everyone gasped.
Then she unpinned the letter from Flying Duck’s sweater.
Everyone watched in silent awe.