| Sometimes,
life has a way of waylaying things. I was sitting there under the
picnic table waiting for my name to be called, about to eat the
last, best sprinkly cookie, when suddenly two sets of feet were
scratching at the dust and life went from perfect to perfectly rotten
in thirty seconds flat.
“If it ain’t little Gabriel King.”
It was Duke Evans, the biggest, meanest, most rotten fifth grader
ever. Only he was about to become a sixth grader with a certificate
to prove it, and as Frita said, that made him certifiably worse.
“What grade you going into next year? Kindergarten?”
That was Frankie Carmen – Duke’s best buddy.
“Nah,” Duke said. “He’s going to be with
us next year. Ain’t that right, Gabe?”
I started to sweat and it wasn’t cause of the heat. I looked
for the perfect hole to slip through so I could run and get Frita
or my Pop, but Duke stuck his head under the table and smiled at
me upside down. He had hair like yellow straw, beady brown eyes,
and two missing front teeth from fighting. When he smiled it was
like being smiled at by a crazy scarecrow on Halloween.
“Lisa Lawrence, Ann Marie Kudrow, Gabriel King . . .”
In the distance I heard Ms. Murray calling my name so I tried to
crawl out, but I didn’t get very far.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Nowhere,” I said, but my voice cracked.
“Did we tell you to talk?”
“No. I mean, yes. I mean . . . I got to line up. Maybe we
better get back.”
“Did you just tell us what to do?” Duke snarled.
I answered so quick I choked on my spit. “No. Nope.”
“Seems to me,” Duke said, “you used to carry our
lunch trays . . .”
“And clean up our stuff after gym class . . .”
“And don’t forget how much you loved giving us those
snacks your Momma packed for you. In fact, I think you want to give
me that snack right there.”
Duke grabbed the sprinkly cookie from my hand. I’d forgotten
I was holding it, and it was all smooshed up from me clutching it
so tight, but Duke chomped it down quicker than a hungry mutt with
a steak. Duke was always hungry.
“You can have all my snacks,” I said real quick. “I’ll
get you more after the ceremony, too. Promise. Only I better go
because they’re playing the starting music and my Momma and
Pop will be waiting. I’ve got to clap for Frita, and . . .”
Soon as those words were out of my mouth I wished I could stuff
‘em back in. Right away Duke got that look in his eye, and
he stuck one finger into my chest real hard.
“You can go when I say so,” he growled. “And I
don’t say so because no one’s going to clap for Frita
Wilson if I can help it.”
If Frita were here Duke wouldn’t have had the guts to say
that. I should have made a run for it, only I was too scared and
before I knew it Frankie grabbed my arms and Duke grabbed my feet.
Then Frankie pulled my arms out of my shirt sleeves, yanked the
sleeves behind me and tied them in a knot so tight I couldn’t
move a muscle.
“Let’s see you try to clap for your girlfriend now,”
he said, leaning in until his face was right next to mine. He laughed
like that was sooo funny and shoved me to the ground.
I landed on my butt in a puff of red dust.
“See you next year,” Duke said, syrupy sweet.
I sat there watching their feet get smaller and smaller.
There’s nothing worse than watching someone else’s feet
run to where you ought to be.
I pulled hard at my shirt sleeves, but that knot wouldn’t
budge. I thought about getting up and running over to the crowd,
but the idea of it made my cheeks turn bright red. And what if Duke
and Frankie were waiting for me?
I could hear the ceremony starting and everyone clapping. The principal
was making his speech about what a fine year it had been at Hollowell
Elementary. He called out the names for everyone to get their certificates.
First the kindergarteners, then the first, second, and third graders,
and then he was calling out the names for my class.
“Miranda Tuttle, Frita Wilson . . .”
The principal called Frita’s name in the distance and I whistled
and hollered loud as I could just like I’d promised, but I
knew no one could hear me.
That’s when I gave up and shuffled under the picnic table
in shame. I thought of the imaginary list me and Frita had made
and in my mind I crossed off everything. This wasn’t a great
day or a momentous occasion. It was the worst day. I’d broken
my pinky swear to Frita. I’d never done that before. Not even
once.
I thought about Duke and Frankie, and then I thought about my best
friend walking across the stage listening for my extra loud whistle.
That about killed me. If this was what the fifth grade had in store
for me I didn’t think I could stand it.
There were some things in life a man could not be forced to endure
and it was looking like fifth grade was going to be one of them.
Chapter 3 can only
be found in the book!
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