“You’re sure?” his father says, looking at him closely.
Gavin’s face burns with shame and embarrassment. “Yes,” he says in a small voice.
“Go return it, then,” his father orders. “And apologize for jumping to conclusions and for taking something that didn’t belong to you.”
“Okay,” Gavin says, and then he runs upstairs for the thing he has to get. Then he’s off.
“I just thought of something,” Richard says as they walk up to the rundown apartment building where Khufu lives. Gavin hadn’t wanted to ride Khufu’s bike, so Richard left his in Gavin’s backyard. “We don’t know which apartment he lives in.”
Gavin leads the way up the front stairs and looks at the bank of doorbells. Each has a name beneath it, but “Grundy” isn’t one of them. “I don’t see Khufu’s last name,” Gavin says. “It’s Grundy, right?”
“Yeah,” Richard says.
“Well, they just moved here. Maybe they haven’t gotten around to putting their name on their doorbell,” Gavin reasons.
“There’s only six,” Richard points out. “Just ring them all.”
Gavin shrugs.
No one answers the first bell. An old-sounding woman answers the second bell, but then she can’t quite understand Gavin’s question when he asks, “Does Khufu live there?”
“Who?” she says.
“Never mind,” Gavin says.
He rings the third bell, and Khufu answers. “Who is it?” he says.
Gavin pauses. He feels self-conscious. “It’s Gavin—and Richard,” he blurts out.
“Gavin? And Richard?” Khufu sounds surprised.
“Yeah, and Richard.”
“Oh.”
There’s a moment of silence.
“We brought you something.”
More silence. Then, “What?”
“Your bike,” Gavin says.
There’s more silence. Gavin looks over his shoulder at Richard. They wait for Khufu to say something. Then they hear feet clomping down the stairs inside the building. Finally, the door swings open, and there stands Khufu in jeans and a T-shirt. He spies his bike, and his mouth drops open. Slowly, he comes down the front steps. He walks over to the bike that Richard is holding and runs his hand over the seat.
“I can’t believe it,” he says in a near whisper. “I can’t believe it.” He looks over at Richard and Gavin. “Where’d you find it?”
Suddenly Gavin feels scared. What is Khufu going to think when he tells him he was the one who stole it? Then the front door opens and a man who looks just like Khufu, only with a head full of long locks and an earring in one ear, steps out. “Who do we have here?”
Khufu looks up at him and says, “These are two of my classmates. They brought me my bike.”
“I see. Thank you! Did you find out who took it?”
Gavin swallows hard. “Yes.”
“Who?” Khufu’s father asks, still wearing a smile.
“I took it,” Gavin says.
“We took it,” Richard adds.
Khufu’s father frowns and cocks his head to the side. Khufu’s mouth drops open.
Gavin isn’t sure how to explain how they happen to have Khufu’s bike. “We thought he had stolen the bike from me,” he offers.
Khufu’s father frowns even more and looks puzzled. The four of them just stand there. “Come inside, and you can explain everything to me,” Khufu’s dad finally says. Khufu takes the bike out of Richard’s hands, then looks as if he doesn’t know what to do with it.
“Oh,” Gavin says. “I brought you this.” He holds out his brand-new bicycle lock, the one he’s never used. Khufu might as well have it. Gavin has no need for it now.
Khufu stares at it with surprise. “Thank you,” he says quietly. He takes the lock and attaches the bike to the railing next to the bottom step. They all go into the building.
Khufu’s apartment is unusual. It’s basically one room with a small kitchen area, two twin beds in the corners, a couch, and four tall bookshelves filled with books. Gavin and Richard stand in the middle of it and look around.
“Have a seat,” Khufu’s father says, “and start from the beginning.”
Gavin tells about his bike going missing and a bike showing up in the bike rack the next day looking like it was painted to disguise it.
Khufu’s father is actually smiling. “It was an easy mistake to make, I suppose,” he says.
Gavin feels some relief. He decides right then and there that he likes Khufu’s father. And he likes Khufu, too.
“So you’re out of a bike,” Khufu’s dad observes.
“And my father says I’ll have to save up to get a new one. But he said he’ll match whatever I save, so I won’t have to take such a long time.”
“Well, that’s something to look forward to, I guess,” Khufu’s father says.
On the walk home, Gavin is newly energized. “Let’s get our skateboards and go to the park,” he suggests to Richard when they get to his house.
Richard agrees. “Calvin and Carlos are going to be there. They said they felt like skateboarding today.” Gavin breathes a sigh of relief. It’s as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He’s back to having no bike, but the thought of trying out some new moves at the skate park fills his mind.
His father is on the couch watching golf when Gavin goes inside and starts for the stairs.
“Did you return the bike to its rightful owner?”
“Yes,” Gavin says. He stands in the doorway. “And it all worked out. His father was real nice. And he was understanding, too. And I gave my lock to Khufu so he wouldn’t have to hide his bike under a big piece of cardboard behind the dumpster in the back of his apartment building.”
“That was nice of you,” his father says.
Now Gavin feels extra good. He no longer feels like that horrible person Rosario was ready to have thrown in jail. He’s back to feeling like himself.
GAM is proud of him too. She tells him so at the dinner table that night. “You see how you can be so sure of something and still be wrong?” she adds.
“Yeah, do you see?” Danielle repeats, then glances at Aunt Myrtle as if she suddenly wants to please her.
Aunt Myrtle looks at her with one raised eyebrow.
“I’m sure you’re relieved,” his mother ventures.
Gavin smiles, but then looks down at the pile of mashed turnips on his plate. How is he ever going to get that mound of turnips down? He takes a tiny bite and nearly gags. He gulps down some milk. He’s got about ten more bites. He hopes he has enough milk.
“You know what?” Aunt Myrtle says. Everyone looks at her. “I’m going to add to that match your father has promised. I’ll match what he matches.”
Gavin doesn’t exactly know what that adds up to, but it sounds like a good thing. “Thank you, GA—I mean, Aunt Myrtle.”
“You’ll have enough money for a new bike in no time.”
Eleven
Mystery Solved
As soon as Gavin climbs out of his mother’s car and makes it to the lineup area the next morning, Deja marches up to him and says, “I hear you’re the one who stole Khufu’s bike.”
“Yeah,” Rosario says, joining her. “How could you do something like that to Khufu?”
Gavin opens his mouth to speak. First of all—how did she hear that? Maybe Khufu told her, not realizing how Deja would take it. Richard comes over and quickly chimes in. “I helped him take the bike, and we only took it because Gavin’s bike got stolen and he thought Khufu was the thief.”
“Why didn’t you just ask him?” Deja asks.
Calvin walks up then. “How’s it your business?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Richard agrees. “Anyway, as soon as he found out the bike really was Khufu’s, he gave it back. So mind your own business.”
Deja starts to say something, but then quickly turns and gets in line. Ms. Shelby-Ortiz is coming—with her clipboard.
Their teacher marches
the class to Room Ten. She has them remain in line just outside the classroom door until she feels they are ready to enter quietly. Some have started to talk and fidget.
When everyone has settled down, she steps aside. The class enters. Some go to their cubbies to put away their backpacks; some get to hang their backpacks on their chairs. Gavin watches his friends put their bike helmets in their cubbies. He sighs. He supposes he’ll just have to feel this way—sad and disappointed—for the rest of the school year . . . until he can save enough for a new bike.
As soon as everyone is seated and pulling out their morning journals, Rosario’s hand shoots up.
Ms. Shelby-Ortiz looks up from the clipboard and calls on her.
“Ms. Shelby-Ortiz, we know who stole Khufu’s bike!” Rosario looks over at Gavin, appearing happy and excited to report this.
Gavin feels his heart drop.
Before their teacher can say anything, Rosario blurts it out. “Gavin’s the one who stole Khufu’s bike, Ms. Shelby-Ortiz!”
“What?” Ms. Shelby-Ortiz turns to Gavin with a puzzled look on her face. “Is that true, Gavin?”
“Yes, but only because I thought the bike was mine.”
Ms. Shelby-Ortiz shakes her head. “I’m not getting this.”
“See, I got my bike stolen, and when Khufu brought his bike to school, it looked a lot like mine, only orange, but I could see that that color was spray-painted over another color, so I thought the bike was mine.” He takes a big breath.
“Couldn’t you have just asked Khufu about his bike?”
“I didn’t think he’d tell the truth, because . . .” Gavin stops then and looks over at Khufu. “Well, because.”
Deja cuts in. “Because sometimes he doesn’t tell the truth, Ms. Shelby-Ortiz. Like when he said he could speak Swedish, and that didn’t sound like real Swedish to me.”
Ms. Shelby-Ortiz interrupts her. “Uh—we don’t know that. None of us speaks Swedish, so let’s not accuse Khufu of not being truthful.”
Khufu looks a little shifty-eyed as he lowers his head a bit.
“And then the genius school, Ms. Shelby-Ortiz,” Antonia adds. “No one’s ever really heard of a genius school.” She looks over at Khufu with interest. He’s busy picking at a fingernail.
Their teacher sighs. “Enough of this talk. Let’s get to work.” She claps her hands once. “Well, I’m glad everything is straightened out. And I’m sorry your bike was stolen, Gavin. Maybe you’ll get another one. Let’s hope. Now it’s time to get to our morning journals.”
Once again, Gavin’s mother is waiting for him as he hauls himself down the front school steps. She waves happily, and he knows that she’s trying to put him in a better mood.
The drive home is quiet. As soon as they pull into the driveway, Gavin gets out and slumps up the back steps and into the kitchen. He washes his hands at the sink and opens the refrigerator to stare into it. Nothing appeals to him. He closes the refrigerator door and goes over to the cabinet that holds snack food.
“Ah-ah-ah,” his mother says behind him. “Get an apple.”
Gavin sighs. Can things get much worse?
He’s still in a bad mood at the dinner table that night. Happily, there’s nothing on the table that’s gagworthy. Corn on the cob, baked chicken, and green beans. Well, he might have some problems with the green beans.
Danielle is busy trying to weasel permission out of their mother to spend the night at her best friend’s house on Saturday. Gavin’s rooting for his mom to give permission. An evening without Danielle in the house sounds like heaven.
Just as his mother opens her mouth to ask her usual series of questions, the doorbell rings. Everyone looks at one another. His father frowns and gets up to answer it.
Soon Gavin hears a man’s voice sounding as if he’s explaining something. He hears his father saying “Uh-huh” over and over. Then his father makes a sound of surprise. “Gavin, can you come in here, please?” he calls.
Danielle, not to be left out of the loop, follows. The front door is open, and there stands a strange man—with Gavin’s bike! Gavin’s silver-and-blue BMX! He cannot believe his eyes! Is that really his bike?
“My bike . . .” Gavin manages in a hushed voice.
“Do you mind telling my son what you just told me?” his father asks.
“Sure,” the man says. “So, I’m Robert Turner’s father.” He reaches out and shakes Gavin’s hand.
Gavin knows who Robert Turner is. He’s a boy in the fifth grade. He’s in Gregory Johnson’s class.
“As you can see, I’ve got your bike.”
Gavin’s father smiles.
“Let me explain,” Robert Turner’s dad goes on. “Last week, my wife got a call from the school telling her that Robert was in the nurse’s office with flu symptoms. She dashed to the school, picked him up, and took him directly to the doctor. And he did have the flu. He’s home in bed as we speak.”
Gavin looks at his father and the big grin on his face.
“I came home early and assumed Robert had ridden his bike to school that day, so I swung by the school and picked up the bike and put it in the garage where it belongs. Or so I thought.
“Robert always leaves his bike in the backyard, and I’m always telling him that he needs to put it away in the garage or at least remember to lock it up and—well, never mind all that. Anyway, I thought the bike I put in the garage was his, but his bike was leaning against the back steps the whole time. Today I discovered the bike in the garage was not his bike.” Mr. Turner slapped his forehead. “Robert knew just who it belonged to. His friend—whose little brother is in your class—told him whose it was.” He turns to Gavin and says with a smile, “Have you been missing a bike?”
Gavin is so overcome, he’s almost speechless. Now he knows exactly how Khufu felt when they returned his bike to him. Finally, he says, “Yes. I thought someone stole it.”
Robert’s father laughs. “I guess that someone was me. Though I didn’t know that’s what I was doing—walking off with someone else’s bicycle.”
Gavin moves to his bike and runs his hand along the handlebars. He looks at his father. “I don’t have to save for a new bike now.”
“It looks that way,” his father agrees.
“I just have to save up for a new lock.”
His mother and GAM suddenly appear in the doorway next to Danielle and gaze at the bike, speechless.
Finally, GAM asks, “Is that your stolen bike?”
“It wasn’t stolen,” Gavin says.
“There was a bit of a mix-up,” his father adds.
His dad and Mr. Turner shake hands again, and then the man turns toward his car.
“Who was that?” Gavin’s mother asks.
“A parent who accidentally took Gavin’s bike, thinking it belonged to his son.”
“Wow,” Danielle says. “What a mix-up.” And it’s a funny thing—she actually doesn’t sound like her usual snide self. For once.
Gavin wheels his bike around the side of the house and hauls it up the steps of the back porch. He puts the kickstand down and then steps away and looks at it. His bike has been returned! He almost can’t believe it. He grins a big grin and then abruptly stops. He still has to get those green beans down.
Danielle sticks her head out the door. “You riding your bike to school tomorrow?”
“Not until I get a lock.”
“You coming in?”
“In a minute.”
He’ll get back to those beans soon enough. For now, he just wants to enjoy sitting next to his silver-and-blue bicycle and thinking about when he’ll get to ride it again.
Visit www.hmhco.com to find all of the books in the Carver Chronicles series.
1
What Did You Do to My Hair?
Nikki and Deja are best friends. They live next door to each other. On Saturday they sit on Deja’s couch watching cartoons. Soon Nikki grows tired of The Mouse Queen and says, “Let’s walk to the store.”
“I can’t,” Deja says. “My hair’s not combed.” She plucks at Bear’s fur. Bear is her favorite stuffed animal. Deja’s hair sticks out all over, just like Bear’s fur. “And Auntie Dee can’t comb it ’cause she’s working in the garden right now.”
Just then, the garage door to the kitchen slams and Auntie Dee passes through the room carrying a tray of seedlings to the backyard. “You’re not spending the whole morning in front of that TV,” she announces.
After she leaves, Deja says, “See? She’s too busy to comb my hair right now.”
“Let me comb it,” Nikki says.
“You don’t know how.”
“Yes, I do. I know how to comb hair now.”
Deja looks at Nikki as if she doesn’t believe her.
“I comb my little cousin’s hair all the time,” Nikki says.
Deja gets off the couch and runs to the bathroom. Soon she comes back with her comb and brush and ten ball barrettes. She sets them on the coffee table. “I want the pink ones in the front, the blue in the middle, and the purple on the bottom,” she says, scooting down onto the floor.
Nikki picks up the comb and tries to pull it through Deja’s hair.
“Ow!” Deja cries.
“I’ll use the brush first,” Nikki says quickly.
“Everybody knows you’re supposed to use the brush first, Nikki.”
Nikki looks at the barrettes and realizes she hasn’t learned how to make them work yet. She brushes until she thinks she can pull the comb through, but it gets stuck again. She gives it a tug.
“Ow!” Deja cries. “That hurts!”
Nikki puts the comb down. She won’t comb anymore. She’ll just brush. Then she remembers that she hasn’t learned how to braid. So she decides to put bunches of hair in the barrettes. But she doesn’t really know how to do that, either.
The New Kid Page 6