Hmm, Richard thinks. They probably haven’t memorized their lines very good.
The four students stand bunched in front of the whiteboard. They start talking in low voices among themselves.
Wow, they should have rehearsed more, Richard thinks.
Dyamond Taylor steps forward and says, “Today we’re going to perform a skit we wrote entitled ‘The Boy Who Lost His Lunch Money.’”
Richard feels a little laugh coming on. He has to pull in his lips to suppress it. He hears some giggles from Table Two. Now Arthur steps forward and pulls his pockets inside out. “Oh, no!” he says. “I lost my lunch money. Oh, no, what am I going to do?” He looks over at Myrella, who’s looking at her index card.
It takes a long time for her to finally say, “Hi, Billy. What’s wrong?” Richard hears snickers from behind him. He glances around. Deja is passing Nikki a note in that secret way that everybody already knows about. Deja folds the note into a tiny square, places it in the marker basket in the middle of the table, and then coughs. That’s the signal. Nikki takes the note out of the basket, puts it on her lap, and reads it. Richard wonders what it says.
He looks at Yolanda yawning, and Carlos whispering to Ralph. But Gavin is just looking at the performers politely. He doesn’t seem like he’s about to laugh. He’s just sitting there, watching.
Arthur looks at his card. “I lost my lunch money.”
There’s a long pause where Myrella just stares at him. Then Myrella says, “Oh, no, what are you going to do?”
Arthur looks at his card again. He squints at his writing. The class waits. At last he says, “I don’t know.”
Now Richard can hear Deja and Rosario giggling quietly. Ms. Shelby-Ortiz gives them a look and they stop. This is not good, Richard thinks. They should have rehearsed. Eventually Dyamond Taylor and Angela Martin make their entrance. They know their parts but their voices don’t sound natural to Richard. They’re speaking too slowly and in a tone that makes them sound like robots. Everyone finally helps Arthur retrace his steps. When he sees his pretend money on the ground, he reaches down and picks it up and puts it in his pocket. “Thank you for helping me find my lunch money,” he practically shouts. The three girls just stand around looking at him, then Angela Martin starts cheering and Dyamond and Myrella join in. Then they stop abruptly. Richard doesn’t know if that’s the end or not, and neither does the rest of the class. Everyone waits in silence for a few seconds.
Then Ms. Shelby-Ortiz starts clapping and her students follow suit. “Thank you,” she says. “Thank you so much. Class, wasn’t that just wonderful?”
“Yes, Ms. Shelby-Ortiz,” the class says, though they don’t sound very enthusiastic. But there is one super great thing about the skit. When the four students file out, Richard sees that there’s a smudge on the whiteboard where his name was written. One of them must have backed up into it and nearly wiped it away.
He looks over at Ms. Shelby-Ortiz, wondering if she’ll notice the smudge and remember that “Richard’s note” had been written there. He has an idea. Ms. Shelby-Ortiz tells the class to take out their morning journals and write about the importance of cooperation. That seems to be what the skit was about. Richard frowns. He knows he’ll be staring at a blank page while he struggles to come up with something. Anything.
He thinks about cooperation for a bit. Then he takes a couple of old papers out of his desk that need to go into the recycle box. He doesn’t have to get permission to put papers in the recycle box. No one does, because his teacher wants to encourage the kids to recycle. Richard eases out of his seat—he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself—and heads to the recycle box by way of the whiteboard. He slows as he passes his name and erases the smudge with his elbow. He looks back over his shoulder. Problem solved, he thinks as he deposits his papers and returns to his table. No one has noticed, except maybe Gavin, who is giving him a funny look.
“You didn’t get your note signed, did you?” Gavin asks as they walk home.
“I’m going to get it signed,” Richard answers. “By tomorrow.”
Gavin is silent, but Richard can tell he doesn’t believe him. “I think you’re going to get in big trouble,” Gavin says after a moment. “Danielle did the same thing. She had a note about all this missing homework, but she hid the note under her mattress because she wanted to go to her friend’s slumber party. My mother found it when she went to change the sheets and boy, did Danielle get in trouble.”
Sometimes Gavin can be a goody-goody, Richard thinks. He doesn’t like him as much then, because it seems as if he’s judging Richard, and that doesn’t feel very good.
Gavin shakes his head slowly. “Richard, it would have been easier to just do the report.”
“You’ve already told me that,” Richard says. He hopes that’s the end of it.
“Did you have a rainforest project you were supposed to do?” his mother asks as she passes a dish of green beans to his father. They’re all at the kitchen table eating dinner. Roland just keeps on eating, but Darnell and Jamal look over at him. Darnell has a little smirk on his face.
“Huh?” Richard says.
“When I was going through your jeans pockets this afternoon before putting them in the washing machine, I found a paper on a rainforest project your class had to do. It had suggestions for animals and a kind of chart for getting things done so you’d be able to turn it in on time, et cetera, et cetera.” She stops and stares at him, waiting.
His father has turned his way, also. Waiting.
Richard feels as if a hole is opening up and he’s about to fall into it. Especially when he says, “Uh, yeah, but Ms. Shelby-Ortiz gave us more time.” It’s a big fib. He feels his face get warm.
His mother doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. She just looks at him. Finally she says, “She did?”
The hole is getting deeper. “Uh-huh,” Richard says quietly. He wonders if things can get any worse.
They do. Later, Darnell gets in on it. “What’s this?” he says when Richard brings his plate to the sink. It’s Darnell’s night to do dishes. “Look what I found in your backpack.” Darnell flashes a big smile.
Richard recognizes the note immediately. Just what he needs . . . “What were you doing in my backpack?”
“Getting my ruler. The one I lent you last week for that math homework you had where you had to measure three things in our room. The ruler you never gave back to me.”
“I need that,” Richard says under his breath while reaching for the note.
“Not so fast, little brother,” Darnell replies, snatching it back. He tucks it into his jeans pocket. “Whatcha gonna do for me in return?”
“You weren’t supposed to be going through my things,” Richard says.
“I was getting my ruler. I have a right to go through your stuff to get my stuff. Now, I could give this to Mom, or we could make a trade.”
“What kind of trade?” Richard asks. He already knows this is not going to be good.
Darnell makes a sweeping motion toward the sink full of dirty dishes. “They’re all yours.”
“What? That’s not fair.”
“Would you rather do my dishes or have me give Mom this note?”
With that, Darnell tosses the sponge into the sink. Richard reaches for the note but Darnell jerks it away. “You’ll get it . . . when I decide to give it to you.”
The whole time Richard is rinsing plates and glasses and putting everything in the dishwasher where it can fit, then putting away the food, cleaning the stove, scrubbing the pots and pans, drying them, putting them away, and sweeping the floor as their mother always insists they do, he’s thinking of what Gavin told him: It would have been easier to just do the report.
Five
The Jig Is Up
As soon as the class settles down the next day with their morning journals in front of them, Ms. Shelby-Ortiz walks up to Richard’s desk, stands over him with her arms crossed, and says, “Where’s your signed no
te, Richard? The one you were supposed to give to me yesterday?”
Richard can feel everyone looking at him. For some strange reason, he finds himself getting up out of his seat and going to his cubby. He retrieves his backpack, unzips it, and starts rummaging around as if he’s searching for the signed note. The whole time he’s doing this, he knows how stupid it looks. Some of the kids start laughing, until Ms. Shelby-Ortiz turns to give them her famous penetrating stare.
He rummages and rummages. Finally he says, “Uh, I think I left it at home.”
“Yeah, right,” Ralph calls out. Ms. Shelby-Ortiz has talked to the class about having low impulse control and doing stuff without thinking. That’s Ralph, Richard thinks. He’s got a bad case of low impulse control. Ms. Shelby-Ortiz turns to Ralph now.
“Did anyone ask your opinion?” she says calmly.
“No,” Ralph says quietly.
“Then why are you giving it?”
Ralph looks down and the attention shifts back to Richard. He can see a smirk on Antonia’s stuck-up face, and Rosario is covering her mouth, but he can see her shoulders shaking a little as she laughs.
“Come with me, Richard.” Ms. Shelby-Ortiz leads him out into the hall. Richard knows that this is to give him privacy when she issues the consequences of his behavior. As soon as they’re outside the classroom door, she says, “We both know you haven’t given the note to your parents, don’t we?” Richard looks down at the floor. His face feels warm. “This is what’s going to happen: There will be no recess until I get that note—signed by one of your parents—in my hand. That’s morning and lunch recesses. Just as we discussed on Monday.”
Richard continues staring at his feet. He waits for the rest of the consequences, because he knows there are more.
“And,” she goes on, “if I don’t get that note in my hand by tomorrow morning, I will be making a phone call to your parents either at your home or at their places of work.”
Richard swallows. He knows Ms. Shelby-Ortiz means business. If she calls his dad at work or his mom at the food bank, he’ll be put on punishment for life. Or something just as bad. He swallows again.
“Do you think that’s fair?”
He hates when she asks that question. It usually is fair, but that’s not the point. The point is the punishment he is sure to receive from his parents. He’s painted into a corner. Might as well give up. This playing-around-with-the-note hasn’t been worth it. He sighs and follows Ms. Shelby-Ortiz back into the classroom. He can feel his classmates’ curiosity as almost all eyes follow him to his seat. There goes Gregory Johnson’s birthday party at the skate park. There goes every fun thing in the world.
Richard is filled with dread on the walk home. “Maybe it won’t be so bad,” Gavin offers.
“It’s going to be bad,” Richard says.
“But you’re giving them the note without Ms. Shelby-Ortiz having to call them—at work.”
“The note is dated last Friday, Gavin.”
“Oh, right.”
They’re quiet. Richard knows Gavin is probably thinking, I told you so. But at least Gavin doesn’t say it. They part when they reach Fulton, and Gavin walks on to his street. Richard looks at his house. He starts for it as if he’s heading to prison. Not a good feeling.
“What’s the problem?” Richard’s mom asks at the dinner table. “Why are you picking at your food? You love lamb chops and mashed potatoes.”
Darnell glances up from gnawing on what’s left of his lamb chop. He looks at Richard’s untouched food. Richard knows Darnell would like to snatch it off his plate.
“Use your knife and fork, Darnell,” Richard’s mom says. “And for Pete’s sake, wipe your mouth—and not with the back of your hand.” Darnell picks up his napkin and pats his mouth daintily, causing Jamal and Roland to break out laughing. Richard’s sour expression remains.
“What’s with you?” Roland asks.
“Nothin’.”
His father turns his attention to Richard. “Yeah, what’s going on? Why are you looking so down?”
“Can I have that lamb chop?” Darnell asks.
Richard moves his plate closer to his chest.
“No, you may not,” Richard’s mom says. She turns to Richard. “What’s going on, Richard?”
“I have a note.”
“A note?”
“From Ms. Shelby-Ortiz.”
His mother and his father glance at each other.
“What is this about?” his father asks.
“Where’s the note?” his mother asks.
“Darnell has it.” Now all eyes turn to Darnell.
“Why does Darnell have it?” his mother asks.
“He found it in my backpack. That’s why I had to do his dishes last night. So he wouldn’t tell you about it.”
Darnell squirms in his seat. “I was just joking.”
“You mean to tell me you were blackmailing your brother? You owe him his night of dishes,” his mother says.
“That’s not fair,” Darnell protests.
“Too bad,” his father says. “Go get the note.”
When Darnell comes back, Jamal says, “Can he do my dishes, too?”
His mother gives Jamal a look and he goes back to his mashed potatoes. Darnell places the note in her hands. She reads it. “I can’t believe this. You let that rainforest project due date come and go, and you lied to me about it? You didn’t even bother to do it?”
Now his mother’s eyes have squinted down to slits. Richard doesn’t like that face. It’s a bad-news look. He glances over at his father. His dad is sitting back in his chair with his arms folded. Not a good look either.
“Check this out, Bill,” Richard’s mom says, passing him the slip of paper. “He got this note last Friday.”
Richard wishes he could shrink so small, he’d disappear. Roland is chuckling under his breath and nudging Jamal with his elbow. Everyone is enjoying the show. Especially Darnell, it seems to Richard. He would probably enjoy it more if he didn’t have my dishes to wash, Richard thinks.
“Your father and I are going to discuss this after dinner. Then we’ll let you know what your consequences are going to be.”
There was that word again. Consequences. Richard is beginning to hate that word.
It’s hard to concentrate on his math homework. He’s been reading the same word problem over and over. Richard imagines his mom and dad sitting in the dining room, beneath his bedroom, with their heads together, discussing his punishment. No wonder he can’t concentrate on the word problem.
If a car is going 50 miles an hour, how many hours does it take to get to the next town 200 miles away?
He knows it’s a simple problem and he knows Ms. Shelby-Ortiz has gone over similar problems with the class, but he just can’t concentrate. He decides to go on to the next one.
Jamie has 3 dollars and 50 cents. He needs to buy school supplies. Pencils are 1 dime each and notebooks are 2 dollars. Does he have enough money to buy 1 notebook and 5 pencils? If so, how much change should he receive?
Richard looks up to see Roland standing in the doorway, leaning on the doorjamb with his arms crossed. “Word of advice, little brother—because I’ve been there. Never think you can get away with anything. Most of the time you get caught and then it’s worse.” He smiles. “Got it?”
“Yeah,” Richard says. He’s got it, for now.
Just then, Jamal comes bounding up the stairs. He sticks his head into the room. “Mom wants you!” he says, seeming happy to be the one to deliver the summons.
His mother and father are both sitting in the dining room with their hands on the table and fingers laced. They look like the judges on those court shows on TV. Not good.
Richard looks down at his feet.
“Well, first of all, forget about Gregory Johnson’s skateboard party.”
Richard swallows. He struggles to keep his mouth from turning down.
“Forget about television and video games for the next ten
days. Forget about going to friends’ houses after school. Forget about making less than one hundred percent on next Friday’s spelling test. Let me give you some advice: This is the time to really mind your p’s and q’s.” His mother turns to his father. “Did I leave anything out?”
“Mmm,” he says. “Dessert? No dessert for ten days.”
That’s not so bad, Richard thinks. They almost never have dessert. Everyone is on his own with after-dinner treats. So he’ll have to do without cookies and ice cream and stuff like that for a while. Maybe he can buy some candy after school and keep it in his backpack. But 100 percent on next Friday’s spelling test? He doesn’t know about that one.
“Now, what should happen if we catch you, say, sneaking some candy into the house?” his father asks.
Richard looks up quickly. Is his father reading his mind? Richard shrugs slowly.
“Simple,” his father says. “You get another week.”
No candy, Richard thinks. And no TV and no skateboard party. And I have to mind my p’s and q’s. This is going to be awful.
“One more thing,” his mother says. “We’ll be meeting with your teacher on Friday to discuss how we can work together to keep you on course.”
Richard feels as if a big weight has settled in his stomach, permanently.
“Oh, and don’t think you don’t have to do your part of the rainforest presentation. We want that done by next Friday.”
Skateboard Party Page 3