The New Kid

by Karen English

  “Yeah, that’s your bike, all right,” Carlos says, nodding. “I’m sure of it.”

  “Remember, I’m going to follow him today after school,” Richard adds. “To see where he lives. Then me and Gavin can just go get it back.”

  Gavin and Richard nod. Then Gavin remembers what Aunt Myrtle said, and that funny feeling comes over him again.

  Six

  GAM’s Thoughts

  The day starts off like any other Thursday. Except it’s the day Richard is going to find out where Gavin’s bike is. As usual, Khufu scribbles nonstop in his morning journal and Gavin wonders what on earth he could be writing. Gavin’s topic is about his stolen bike and how he felt when he first realized it was gone. And how it was kind of unbelievable at first. And how he kept staring and staring at the empty space where he’d put his bike that morning, because its emptiness just didn’t seem real.

  But now he knows there’s a chance to get it back. He feels a flutter of excitement. He doesn’t write that in his journal, or who he thinks stole his bicycle, since the culprit is sitting right next to him, all innocent and stuff. Gavin could drop his morning journal, and Khufu could pick it up and see his name in it. So Gavin keeps Khufu’s name out of his writing. He just keeps Khufu’s name in his head. He knows who he suspects, and all his friends know, too.

  After school, there’s his mother sitting in her car with the motor idling. Gavin has a miserable thought. What if his mother has to pick him up and drop him off all the way through high school? He supposes lots of kids are dropped off and picked up by their mothers until they’re old enough to drive, but still, he’d rather imagine himself on his blue-and-silver bike, riding with his friends. Until he gets a car.

  Suddenly Richard, Carlos, and Calvin are beside him, straddling their bikes. “I’ll let you know what I find out,” Richard says. “Then we can go early Saturday morning—really early—and get it.”

  “What if he comes out and catches you?” Calvin says.

  “That’s why we have to do it early, while everyone is still asleep,” Gavin explains, trying to sound more sure of himself than he feels.

  “You could get caught. Maybe by his father,” Carlos says, his eyes big. “And what if the bike is locked?”

  “Everything is going to work out,” Richard says. “I have a feeling.”

  “There he is,” Carlos announces. They all follow Carlos’s pointing finger to watch Khufu take the bike out of the rack, climb onto it, and start down the street.

  “See you,” Richard says. He waits a bit, then starts down the street behind Khufu. Far behind.

  Gavin climbs into the back seat of his mother’s car and says, “Mom, can I spend the night at Richard’s on Friday?” He knows Saturdays are chore days. All morning he cleans his room and sweeps the back porch and front porch and does whatever his mother thinks up. But maybe just this once.

  “We’ll see,” his mother says.

  That gives him hope. He’s relieved that his parents seem to think being without his bike is punishment enough. He’s counting on them to continue thinking like that. Now he remembers what spending the night at Richard’s is like and wonders if it will be noisy again. Richard has three loud brothers who are always punching one another and arguing over the television or loudly playing video games.

  His mother has groceries in the back of the car, and when she pulls into their driveway, she asks Gavin to help her carry them into the house. If there’s one thing Gavin hates to do it’s help carry groceries into the house. The second thing he hates is putting them away and seeing almost no snack food. There are no chips or candy or frozen pizzas.

  GAM is in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a cup of tea. Her back has healed enough so that she can come downstairs now. Maybe she can go home, he thinks, and then chides himself for thinking it. It hasn’t been so bad having her around these last few days. In fact, he likes GAM better now than when she was here before with Carlotta, her little Pomeranian.

  “Hi, Aunt Myrtle.”

  She nods. “Hello, Gavin.”

  When the groceries are put away and his mother has gone upstairs, GAM says, “And how was your day at school?” She looks at him over her glasses, waiting.

  “Fine.”

  “Was your little friend at school?”

  Gavin frowns. “Which one?”

  “The one with the funny name. Gugu?”

  “His name is Khufu and he was there, but he’s not really my friend.”

  “Did you ask him about your bike?” she asks, taking a sip of tea.

  “No, because he would only . . .” Gavin hesitates. He remembers his mother telling him that when she was a little girl, she was not allowed to say the word lie. She had to say fib or tell a story.

  “. . . tell a fib,” Gavin says. “He tells fibs all the time. Stuff like he was born in Sweden and only spoke Swedish until he came to this country and that he’s gone to ten schools and his last school was just for geniuses. He lives with only his father. That part is probably true.”

  GAM chuckles. “Now, that sure is an interesting character.”

  “And a thief,” Gavin adds, thinking of the plan to get his bike back.

  “You know what I’m guessing?” GAM asks. She smiles, as if to herself. “I think poor little Khufu is troubled. Where’s his mother?”

  “He doesn’t have one. I mean, he said she moved away to New Mexico to be an artist. I don’t even believe that.”

  GAM slowly shakes her head. “That’s probably the one thing he’s said that’s true.”

  Gavin has to think about this. GAM might be right, and that gives him a funny feeling too. Still, Khufu can’t just go around stealing another person’s bike, spray-painting it an ugly orange, and pretending it’s his.

  Seven

  More Big Whoppers

  Good. The weekend is almost here, Gavin thinks as he gets out of his mother’s car on Friday and waves goodbye. He looks toward the bike rack. His friends’ bicycles are there. And there’s the ugly orange bike. He’ll have to get it professionally painted to cover that horrible color. When he gets it back.

  “We’re going to get Gavin’s bike back tomorrow,” Richard tells Carlos and Calvin as they walk toward the foursquare court at recess.

  “Like I warned you, you could get caught by his father,” Carlos says. “And what if the bike is locked?”

  “It isn’t. He keeps it behind this big dumpster next to his building under a huge piece of cardboard,” Richard informs them.

  The group is quiet—thinking.

  Then the lineup bell rings, and everyone on the playground hurries to their assigned places on the schoolyard.

  During social studies, Ms. Shelby-Ortiz talks about timelines—personal timelines and how everyone has one. To show what she means, she draws a line on the board and turns to the class with a sly smile as if she’s about to let them in on a secret. She directs her question to Khufu. “Khufu, can we use your information for our timeline?”

  Khufu smiles broadly. “Sure,” he says.

  Ms. Shelby-Ortiz asks him his birth date, and Khufu tells her. The class grows momentarily quiet as they are busy figuring out if they’re older or younger than he is.

  “Birthplace?” Ms. Shelby-Ortiz asks.

  “Sweden,” he says.

  Ms. Shelby-Ortiz starts to write that down but stops. “Oh . . . right. Sweden,” she says slowly.

  “Yes,” says Khufu simply.

  “How did it happen that you were born in Sweden?” It doesn’t sound as if she doesn’t believe him. She just sounds curious.

  “My family was traveling there for a reason that’s secret. So I can’t tell you why.”

  “And how long did you live in Sweden?”

  “Until I was five.”

  “So, then, do you speak Swedish?” Antonia butts in. She rolls her eyes. She clearly doesn’t believe him.

  “Of course I speak Swedish,” Khufu says, not sounding the least bit worried that he might
be tested.

  “Say something, then.”

  Ms. Shelby-Ortiz watches this exchange as if she, too, wants Khufu to say something in Swedish.

  Khufu continues to look perfectly calm. In fact, he stands up as if he’s ready to meet any challenge and he’s going to speak paragraphs and paragraphs and silence his doubters.

  “Say your name and tell us if you have any brothers and sisters,” Deja blurts out.

  Khufu smiles as if that’s a super-easy challenge—one he can meet without even trying. He takes in a big breath, and a stream of gobbledygook comes out of his mouth. Gavin’s eyes widen, and he glances around. Kids are looking at one another either with a laugh bubbling up or their mouths hanging open in disbelief. Even Ms. Shelby-Ortiz looks down as if she doesn’t want anyone to see her trying not to laugh. Finally she asks, “And you lived there how long, again?”

  Khufu sighs. “I came to this country when I was five. Like I said.”

  “Could you speak English?” Ralph calls out.

  “I had to learn English when I got here.”

  “How come you don’t have an accent?” Deja challenges.

  Khufu turns to her and says evenly, “I did have an accent, but I got rid of it.”

  Ms. Shelby-Ortiz claps her hands together once. “Let’s move on,” she says.

  Gavin can tell most of the kids in Room Ten don’t want to move on from their line of questioning. He guesses there are plenty who have many more questions they’d like to put to Khufu.

  Finally, a detailed timeline is on the board, depicting Khufu’s life from his birth—in Sweden—until the day he showed up at Carver Elementary School.

  But before paper is passed out so that everyone can create their own timeline, Khufu adds one more bit of information.

  “Another thing,” he says. “It just so happens I’m part Native American. And we no longer find it offensive to be called Indians. And that’s why I wear the braids—because I’m part Indian.”

  Now all the girls stare at him—and his braids.

  Again Ms. Shelby-Ortiz looks down as if to hide what she’s thinking. She has Nikki pass out the 8½ × 14 inch paper so the rest of the class can get started. Gavin can’t help glancing over at Khufu’s paper from time to time, and sees the most fantastical events suddenly included. When he was six, he climbed Mount Everest with his father? Gavin knows about Mount Everest and it being the tallest mountain on earth. Who would believe such a big whopper? Gavin checks Khufu’s face. He’s wearing a self-satisfied smile as he continues to record huge milestones. When he was six and a half, he performed opera at . . . Gavin can’t make out the rest.

  That settles it. Khufu stole the bike. Anyone who can tell such big fibs must also be able to take what doesn’t belong to him. Finally Gavin is sure.

  There it is again—the orange bicycle. His bicycle in the bicycle rack, put there by Khufu. Gavin stares at it for a few moments until he hears the bell ring, signaling the end of recess. He sighs and heads to Room Ten’s area on the yard. Soon Richard and Calvin and Carlos join him. Before they know it, Ms. Shelby-Ortiz is crossing to where they stand waiting, her clipboard in hand. She doesn’t bring her clipboard every time. You never know when she’ll bring it and begin making notes of their behavior. Are they standing quietly in line—keeping their hands to themselves, standing in the space she’s assigned them? This is the time to earn points or lose them for a chance to reach into Ms. Shelby-Ortiz’s grab bag at the end of the month and choose a prize. And it’s not just pencils and erasers she’s got in that bag. There are markers and Hot Wheels and diaries for the girls and Slinkys and lots of other good stuff.

  The day hums along. Gavin occasionally sneaks a peek at Khufu as he does his work. He looks so pleased with himself. He always finishes in record time and then pulls a book out of his desk to read for pleasure. Gavin glances at the title: The Seven Deadliest Animals on Earth. He frowns. On the page is something called a Cape buffalo, with giant horns. Then there’s a jellyfish with deadly-looking tentacles waving in the water. Khufu gazes at the picture and the warning to seek medical help as quickly as possible if stung.

  Gavin shudders. He’s curious and fearful at the same time.

  When the dismissal bell rings, Ms. Shelby-Ortiz calls on Gavin’s table to be the first to line up. To add insult to injury, Khufu goes directly to his cubby and takes out a brand-new bicycle helmet. He puts it on and adjusts the chin strap.

  When Ms. Shelby-Ortiz notices, she goes on and on about how she’s so happy to see Khufu showing responsibility in choosing to wear a bicycle helmet, and how important it is to understand the necessity of it. She doesn’t know how many times she’s seen kids on bikes with no helmets. Which makes her wonder about their parents. “Everyone, a helmet is essential in protecting your head from injury. I don’t want to see anyone on a bicycle without one.” But then she turns to Khufu and says quietly, “You don’t have to put it on now. You can wait until you’re getting on your bike.”

  Khufu, still wearing his new helmet, and the rest of Table Two walk out of the classroom silent and straight, like soldiers. But once outside, they run in all different directions, some whooping and hollering just because they can. Khufu, however, goes directly to Gavin’s bike spray-painted orange and hops on. Gavin watches him ride away.

  “Mom,” Gavin says as they walk through the front door, “did you decide if I can spend the night at Richard’s tonight?”

  Danielle, sauntering by on her way to the kitchen, squints at him suspiciously. “Why?” she asks. “Why do you want to spend the night at Richard’s?”

  “Because he invited me.”

  “What about your chores? Your Saturday chores?”

  “I can do them when I get home.”

  That’s when GAM chimes in. She’s now spending more time downstairs in Gavin’s father’s big recliner in the family room, catching up on her soap operas.

  “And what business is it of yours?” she calls to Danielle over her shoulder.

  Danielle suddenly seems flustered. Gavin’s mother smiles to herself. If she had asked Danielle that question, there would have been an argument. But Danielle would never argue with Aunt Myrtle.

  “I need to speak to Richard’s mother and see if it’s all right,” Gavin’s mother says, which means the answer isn’t quite yes—yet. But it’s leaning toward yes.

  It’s a miracle that Richard’s mom agrees, because instead of four loud boys, she’s now going to have four loud boys plus a fifth slightly—at times—loud boy. Gavin and his mom get into the car, but before starting for Richard’s, she goes through the sleepover rules once again: No loud, raucous play in the house; adults must be addressed as Mr. and Ms. (Gavin doesn’t get that one. Everybody calls adults by their first names. Most times adults introduce themselves by their first names.); absolutely no going into the refrigerator or kitchen cabinets—even with permission from Richard; put away all toys, clothes, and the sleeping bag when not in use. Don’t be a guest people hate to see coming. Be a guest people like to see coming. Gavin knows all this already. He just wishes his mother would start the car so he can hurry up and get to Richard’s.

  Eight

  The Return of the Bike

  When Gavin and his mother arrive at Richard’s house, everyone is in the backyard playing basketball: Richard’s father; his brother Darnell, who’s in the fifth grade at Carver Elementary; his brother Jamal, who’s in middle school; and his oldest brother, Roland, who’s in high school. Why can’t I exchange Danielle for three brothers? Gavin wonders. That would be great. Too bad he can’t just make a trade.

  Gavin joins in, and the game is so intense and so much fun that he forgets why he’s spending the night there in the first place.

  By the time they go inside, Richard’s mom has pizza waiting. Three large pizzas. They sit at the dining room table, and no one has to look at the last piece of pizza and wonder who’ll be able to grab it first. There’s plenty. Everyone’s eventually full.

/>   “Get up, Gavin. We have to do this quick.”

  At first Gavin doesn’t know where he is. He looks around and remembers. Oh, yeah. He gets dressed in no time. Then he’s ready to go.

  They slip out the back door. “It’s really not that far,” Richard whispers, leading the way.

  Richard’s block is deserted. A pickup truck suddenly turns down the street and slows in front of the house next door. It stops. A man gets out, stands at the end of the walkway, and tosses a folded newspaper onto the porch. He looks at Richard and Gavin with what seems to be a puzzled look on his face. The sun is barely up. He must be wondering where two boys could be going at such an early hour. It’s a little strange being out on his own with Richard. He’s gone to the park with just a friend or two and no adults, but this feels different.

  “Come on,” Richard says. “We have to hurry.”

  It turns out the apartment where Khufu lives is also not far from the park. In fact, Gavin has passed his building many times before. The street is quiet. Gavin and Richard glance around to make sure no one is watching them. They round the side of the building to where the trash bin is located. The bike is easy to see, even though it’s almost hidden by a big flat piece of cardboard with a fold in the middle.

  “Why doesn’t he just keep it in his apartment?”Gavin wonders out loud.

  “Maybe his father doesn’t even know about the bike! Yeah, how could he just bring a bike home?” Richard chuckles. “‘Hey, Dad . . . look what I found’?”