We walked down the hallway and then up the stairs to the second floor. All the classrooms in the school were named after planets and other space things. I liked the name Pluto-3. I hoped I would like the kids in my class as much as I liked the name of my classroom.
We stood in front of my classroom door, and I held Ty’s hand tight. I didn’t want him to leave me.
“Go on in and add some Ruby Booker flavor to that class,” Ty said. “I’m sure they’re waiting on you, especially Miss Fruitcake.” I laughed a little, let go of Ty’s hand, and watched him run down the hallway to his own classroom.
I slowly turned the doorknob and landed quietly on Pluto-3.
As soon as I stepped into Pluto-3 I loved what I saw. There were bright colors everywhere and lots of cool posters. And Miss Fruitcake had put out games, tons of books, art supplies, computers, and instruments for all of us kids.
Suddenly, I heard someone call out from the back of the room, “Look around, students. I want you to find the desk that has your name on it. That will be your very own property. It’ll be your little spot on Pluto-3. Welcome to the third grade.”
I turned around and saw the teacher, Miss Fuqua. She looked as fun and colorful as her name. She was kinda tall. Her hair was long and curly, like my hair is after Ma washes it. She had a gazillion beautiful silver bracelets on her wrists. They jingled every time she moved. More than anything else, she seemed nice. She even looked at me and said, “Good morning, Ruby Booker!”
I smiled and answered, “Good morning, Miss Fruit … I mean Fuqua.” I almost slipped up but I caught myself. She waved at me and then continued to talk to the rest of the class.
“Walk around the room and get familiar with all of the workstations. I hope you like how I set up the room,” Miss Fuqua said to the entire class.
I counted fifteen kids, including me, but there were sixteen desks. Everybody seemed so different, and playful, and happy to be in Miss Fuqua’s class. I was, too. That funny-tummy feeling slipped away.
And all of a sudden the words to my favorite song, “Cotton Candy Clouds,” filled my head and made me feel real good inside. I hummed and hummed and played my guitar book bag like it was a real instrument. A few of the kids in my class looked at me weird, but I couldn’t help it. “Cotton Candy Clouds” was my song.
When I got to my desk, there were two boys sitting near me. The seat next to mine was empty. But the boy who sat behind me looked like trouble. He just wouldn’t stop giggling. He had bright red hair. The card on his desk said Manny Flemon. He glanced over at me, read the card on my desk, grinned, and said, “Ruby is an old lady’s name.”
I read his name out loud. “Manny? You’re one to talk. What kind of name is Manny? It sounds like the name of a birthday party clown.” Manny Flemon lost his funny-looking grin and frowned at me. Then he shut his mouth.
The boy sitting next to Manny was as skinny as a bundle of straws. His skin was the beautiful brown color of the big chocolate heart Daddy bought Ma for Valentine’s Day. He had his hands in his lap and sat quietly. I asked him his name because I couldn’t see his card. He moved his lips to speak, but I couldn’t hear anything.
Manny jumped in. “That’s Lionel Crispy, but we all call him Low-Low. You gotta be real close to him to hear what he says,” Manny explained. Then Manny jabbed Low-Low in the ribs. That boy still didn’t make a peep. He just laughed and then hunched over. The whole time I thought, This is who Miss Fuqua, or Miss Fruitcake, hooked me up with? I’m trapped with a kid who talks too much and a kid I can’t even hear!
“Take out your markers and crayons, students,” Miss Fuqua told the whole class. “I want you to decorate the name cards on your desks.” Now “Cotton Candy Clouds” was going off loud in my head. This had to be heaven! Right away I wrote my name and even drew pictures of animals around the edges. It was the perfect way to Rubify my new desk.
After that, Miss Fuqua asked us to stand up when she called on us. She wanted us to tell the rest of the class our name, our age, something fun about ourselves, and what we would like to be when we grow up. She also wanted to know if we had any siblings who attended Hope Road. Since Miss Fuqua started at the end of the alphabet and my last name begins with the letter B, it gave me some time to figure out what to say.
After the first eleven kids spoke, it was finally my turn. I stood up, cleared my throat, straightened my skirt, then spoke out clearly for the whole class to hear. “My name is Ruby. I am eight years old. A fun fact about me is that I love trivia. I’m the trivia queen. I know lots of facts about lots of things, like what the highest mountain in the world is, why skunks smell, and how rainbows get their colors.” I snapped my fingers and stomped my feet because trivia is so fun, and I know I’m good at it. The whole class laughed. I was the first one to say my thing with some flavor. That’s the Ruby Booker flavor that Ty Noodles was talking about.
I continued my introduction when the laughs slowed down. “When I grow up, I want to be a ROCK STAR. I’ve been taking guitar lessons, and I already know how to sing.” I held up my guitar book bag for everyone to see. “When I learn how to play a real guitar — watch out!” The class and Miss Fuqua started laughing again. I felt like I had the class in the palm of my hand. They started showering me with questions.
I heard one girl say, “Hey, Ruby, my name is Chyna Wentworth. You want to be a rock star? That’s so cool!”
Then another girl told me her name. “I’m Mona Sweetroll. I like your hair, your mismatched shoes, and that guitar bag. You crack me up, Ruby Booker!”
And then I heard a girl with a loud, cranky voice say, “Rock stars make a lot of noise and look silly. I want to be a magician when I grow up.” That girl’s name was Marquetta Loopy. I could see her name card from across the room. Marquetta looked at me and then rolled her eyes. She was the little sister of the Loopy brothers, and from what I heard, nobody likes the Loopy brothers. Marquetta was probably just jealous because my brothers are so popular.
I was upset that Marquetta tried to talk during my time. I took a few steps toward her desk, rolled my eyes at her, and said, “Since you want to be a magician, let me see how fast you can disappear. Go ahead. Poof! Begone!” The other kids laughed even louder than before.
Miss Fuqua looked at me sternly. Then she gave Marquetta the same look. “Girls, in Pluto-3 we only speak to one another kindly.” I nodded to show Miss Fuqua I understood. Marquetta folded her arms. Everyone else was still giggling. Miss Fuqua clapped her hands and said, “Okay, Pluto-3, calm down, calm down!” I started to sit back in my seat when Miss Fuqua said, “Wait, Ruby. Don’t forget the sibling part. Do you have any siblings who attend this school?” The whole class looked at me and I couldn’t lie. I had to tell the truth.
Right then, I decided to act like Low-Low. I said my brothers’ names, but I spoke so softly that no one could hear me. Then I sat down. Bigmouthed Manny yelled out, “What did you say? We couldn’t hear you, Ruby.”
I stood back up, took a deep sigh, and said, “Yes. I have three big brothers who attend this school. My brothers Tyner and Roosevelt are in the sixth grade, and my brother Marcellus is in the seventh grade.” Then I sat back down. For some reason I felt embarrassed because I knew what was about to happen … and it did.
Everyone piped up with ooohs and aaahs and started raising their hands. Then my classmates asked the same questions about my brothers that all the kids had asked in the morning on the playground.
One girl, Gina Crumpy, asked, “So how does it feel being the little sister of the Booker boys?” I wanted to get up and stuff her mouth with notebook paper, but I remembered what Miss Fuqua said about treating one another nicely. How did Gina think it felt to be a Booker? Sometimes it was fun. Other times it was just like being any other girl who had a bunch of big brothers. No biggie.
And just when I had started to really become a hu-gantic fan of Miss Fuqua, she had to put in her two cents. “Marcellus was one of the best students I ever had. I had him in
the third grade, and now he’s grown up to be such a multitalented, extremely intelligent Hope Road student. You should be proud, Ruby Booker.” Miss Fuqua spoke with so much joy in her voice that my tummy started to rumble again. All the attention I’d been getting from my new classmates was being showered on my brothers.
One minute I was feeling good about my new school, and the next I was down.
Then a little miracle happened.
Miss Fuqua asked us all to line up, one at a time, so that we could take a bathroom break before the rest of the students got up to speak. But just then, the door opened and my best, best, best friend of all time walked in the door. There she was — Teresa Petticoat! She saw me and her cheeks got all red. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, with a yellow bandanna to keep it all in place.
And to make the miracle even sweeter, Miss Fuqua put Teresa at the desk right next to me. I’d wondered why that desk had been empty. Now I knew why! Teresa pushed her stuff into the coat closet and then came to sit down near me. We didn’t say a word. We just looked at each other and smiled and then did our secret handshake underneath our desks.
When Teresa grabbed my hand, I could feel that she was just as happy to see me as I was to see her in this new school. I had no idea how she ended up in Pluto-3, but I was sure glad she landed safely. What a surprise!
Things had started to look up again.
Me and my girl T.
In the same classroom.
Pluto-3 was the place to be.
“T, I thought you would be in the other third-grade class, but here you are with me! I’m so glad to see you,” I whispered to Teresa.
“Well, Ruby, I’ll tell ya. It seems like they got me mixed up with some gal named Catrina Williboat,” Teresa explained. “She’s in the other third-grade class, and I’m supposed to be in here,” Teresa whispered back.
Teresa and her family moved onto our block from Memphis, Tennessee, about three years ago. She is soooo country, but I love it. She speaks with the sweetest Southern-girl twang. Her voice is like a piece of peach velvet cake.
Right then, the PA system came on with a loud screech. Everyone put their hands over their ears. Then the principal, Miss Cherrybaum, came slicing through the speakers with an announcement. Miss Fuqua told us all to be quiet so that we could hear what the principal had to say.
“Good morning, children. I trust that we are having a splendid beginning to this school year,” Miss Cherrybaum chirped. “Unfortunately, someone has put a dent in our first day of school by pulling a prank. Every poster with a face on it has been given a pair of purple glasses and a beard.” All the kids in our class started to snicker. We could even hear kids in other classrooms laughing.
Miss Cherrybaum continued. “If the prankster is caught, he or she will be suspended from school for a week. That is all. Have an excellent first day.” Miss Cherrybaum signed off and the PA was quiet. Suspended for a whole week? I figured out quickly that Miss Cherrybaum was for real.
Miss Fuqua looked us up and down.
Then somebody knocked softly at our door. It was Ro. Miss Fuqua answered and let Ro step inside our classroom.
He put on his nice-boy voice. He batted his eyelashes, too. Sometimes he does that to Ma to get out of trouble. It never works.
“Uh … excuse me, Miss Fuqua, but I’m Ruby Booker’s big brother Roosevelt. Well, um, I’m one of her big b-b-brothers,” Ro stuttered. That’s another one of his tricks. He thinks that people will be nicer to him if he fakes a stutter. “Can I talk to Ruby for a minute? I have something to give her from our mother.” Miss Fuqua fell for Ro’s act and called me over to the door.
“Ruby, your brother wants to see you,” she said. Then she turned to Ro and said, “You’ve got three minutes, young man. We’re about to start our silent reading time.”
I stepped into the hall with Ro. When the classroom door shut, the real Ro came out.
“I’m glad she’s gone. How’s your new teacher? She sure looks mean,” Ro said with a silly half frown, half smile on his face. I guess he thinks that makes him look tough.
“Don’t talk about my teacher, Ro. She’s so nice, and fun, and she has lots of style. I really like her.”
“She’ll change. I’m sure of that. They all do,” Ro said, all tough.
“Shouldn’t you be in class, Ro?” I wanted to know.
“I should, but I’m not. My teacher thinks I’m in the nurse’s office.” He laughed.
“So what do you want? What do you have to give me?” I was getting annoyed with Ro. He took his book bag off, dropped it on the floor, and pulled out a purple marker from it.
“I need you to keep this for me. Just hide it in your guitar bag, and then give it back to me when we get home, okay?” he asked. I reached for the marker without even asking a question, but then it hit me. This was the marker. The purple marker that messed up all of those posters.
“IT WAS YOU! You marked all of those posters, didn’t you!” I didn’t mean to yell, but it all came together. Who else would’ve done something so crazy on the first day of school? I’ll tell you who — Ro, Ro Rowdy. He put his hand over my mouth and looked around to make sure nobody had heard me.
“Girl, are you nuts? Are you trying to get me busted?” Ro said like a scared rat.
“Is this what you do every year? I see why you get in trouble all of the time. You just can’t help it, can you, Ro?”
He looked up toward the ceiling and tapped his chin, then answered, “If it wasn’t for me, this place would be boring, Ruby. Besides, some of those ugly posters needed a makeover. All I’m asking you to do is keep this marker for me. Please. I’m going to be the first one Cherrybaum checks today. Help your big bro out,” Ro begged.
“Why are you telling me? Why do you want to give the marker to me?” I asked.
“No one will ever think that you, the new girl, the sweet Booker sister, would have anything to do with this,” Ro said as he put a hand on my shoulder. “You could save me from getting into trouble, Ruby.” He didn’t stutter or try his fake sweet-boy routine on me, but I was not going to help Ro. He got himself into this mess. He’d have to get himself out.
“No, Ro. Don’t put me in the middle,” I said. “I have an idea, though. Hold on.” While everyone was busy with silent reading time, I slipped quietly back into Pluto-3 and dashed to the sink near the coat closet. I grabbed two sponges and a small spray bottle filled with water and soap. I eased out into the hallway before Miss Fuqua called me to class. “Here.” I shoved the sponges and spray bottle into Ro’s hands.
“What do you want me to do with this?” Ro asked.
“You’re going to clean off those posters. That’s what you’re going to do. Don’t start off your school year like this, Ro.”
He still had purple marker stains on his fingertips. But he looked serious, like he was thinking hard about something. “Well, I do have a lot of pranks planned this year. No need to get into trouble so early, I guess. Right?”
“Right.” I nodded. I was glad to see Ro change his mind. I sure didn’t want to be a part of that purple-marker mess. The only thing was, I never knew what else Ro had up his sleeve.
But he sounded pretty honest when he said, “This should be easy. That purple marker is washable. Those beards and glasses will come off easily.” Ro thanked me and then gave me a big hug. I gave him a little punch in the gut. He said, “What was that for?”
“I just felt like doing it. Get away from here. And go wash your hands,” I said. Ro picked up his book bag and took off down the hallway.
I went back inside Pluto-3 and sat next to Teresa, who was now on the computer.
For the rest of the morning, all the kids in my class kept talking about how funny the purple-marker-poster prank was. When we walked in the hallways on our way to the cafeteria, I could hear kids of all grade levels talking about it. Some kids we passed said that whoever did it was probably the coolest kid in the school. It seemed like everyone was
talking about the purple-marker prank in the cafeteria. Even the food servers were chattering about Ro’s stunt.
I couldn’t help plugging my ears. I might have looked goofy, but at least I couldn’t hear anyone talking about Ro’s silly stunt. Later, when the purple marker had been wiped off, nobody would know that I was the one who gave Ro the sponges and soapy water so he could clean the posters. No one would know it was Ruby Booker who saved Ro Rowdy from getting suspended. All they cared about was the purple beards and glasses that caused a big commotion on the first day of school.
I had a feeling that Ro’s craziness wouldn’t be the only Booker-boy event of the day.
I was right.
Even in a lunchroom full of kids, Miss Fuqua saw everything. “Ruby Booker, take your fingers out of your ears,” she said from across the cafeteria. “The earrings you have on are cute enough.” I took my fingers out quickly. Plus, she was right about how cute my earrings were.
When we went back to Pluto-3, Miss Fuqua said, “Okay, guys, it’s Galaxy time.”
“What’s Galaxy time?” I asked.
“That means that we’ll have quiet time, and listen to soft music, and then everyone will do something creative at the different tables around the room.”
As soon as Miss Fuqua said creative, all I could think of was singing. I wanted to share my singing with my new classmates so badly. “Cotton Candy Clouds” would not stop playing in my head. I had to work hard to keep from singing out as loudly as I’d done that morning.
Teresa went over to the art table and drew a picture of her family. I saw Marquetta Loopy go to the crafts table, where she made jewelry. Manny Flemon went over to one of the five libraries we have in the room. Low-Low had earphones on. He was listening to who knows what at the music station.
I ran over to Miss Fuqua while she was sitting on the big planet Earth rug in the center of the room. She sat cross-legged and was reading a book of poems. I knelt down and whispered to her, “Miss Fuqua? Excuse me. Miss Fuqua, would it be okay if I sang a song to the class for Galaxy time?”
Brand New School, Brave New Ruby Page 2