by E K Ballard
Blake swallowed. He had thrown it up there after Marco took it from Lucas.
“No,” denied Marco.
Jamie looked at Blake.
“Marco took it,” Blake blurted out.
“You threw it up there!” Marco said, glaring at Blake.
“I’m really disappointed in you guys. How’d you like to be the new kid and have kids picking on you?”
Neither of them said anything.
“You guys trying out for basketball this year?”
“Yeah,” they both said.
“Pretty hard for seventh graders to make the team, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“You think any coach is going to want a couple of bullies on the team?” she asked sternly.
They both looked at the gym floor.
“No.”
“Then you two better knock it off.”
“Okay,” said Blake. Marco just nodded his head.
Jamie left for practice, shaking her head. She might not be able to quote poetry or solve nonlinear equations, but she tried to do the right thing when it came to people.
Chapter Fourteen
“Everyone, take a seat,” said Mr. Manning. “It isn’t often that I get to brag about one of you like this, so listen up.”
“You liked my humor piece?’ someone called out.
“It was great, Nick. Next time make it funny,” Mr. Manning replied.
“Oh, snap!” said someone, laughing.
“No, what I am talking about is an article that someone in this class turned in a few days ago. Not only did this student cover who, what, where, when, and why, but she also had some great quotes and pictures to go along with it.”
Kristin assumed he wasn’t talking about her. She had only turned in the one soccer assignment so far, and she had thrown that together in under an hour on the bus ride home from the game.
“In fact, I took the liberty of sending the article to a friend of mine at The Stowe Sentinel, and they would like permission to print it in the local paper.”
“Whoo-hoo,” said someone sarcastically.
“Go ahead and make fun, guys. My friend at the paper said that the quality of the writing is superior to what he gets from the people he has on his paid staff.”
“Big deal,” said someone.
“It is a big deal,” Mr. Manning said. “It’s nice when a student goes above and beyond, it gives me hope for the future. Kristin, congratulations on your excellent article on the soccer game.”
“Who, me?” Kristin asked, her face turning red.
“Yes, you. I’m going to submit this for a young journalist award, if it’s okay with you.”
“A soccer Pulitzer!” someone shouted out.
“I don’t know, I guess,” she answered, embarrassed to be the center of the class’s attention.
“I wish some of you slackers would do more than just the bare minimum,” Mr. Manning said. “Kristin, if you want a part time job, my friend says he’ll hire you to cover high school sports. I put his email address at the paper here,” he said handing her a graded rubric.
“Thank you,” Kristin said.
* * *
“Jamie, we need to get together this weekend to get the next part of the project done,” said Kristin after class.
“Sure,” said Jamie. “I am going to Amherst Saturday, but Sunday is good.”
“Sunday?” Kristin said. She knew that this would bring on a battle with her mother, who would want them to go to church and spend time together as a family.
“We’re going to see my brother’s game,” said Jamie. “It’s one of the few weekends he plays at home and I don’t have a game.”
“Sunday it is, then,” said Kristin. “Is the library open Sundays?”
“I have no idea,” Jamie said.
Kristin looked it up on her computer. “It’s not,” she said.
“Well, you can come over to my house and we can work there.”
Kristin knew they might need the internet to do this part of the project. She couldn’t have Jamie come over to her house, so she agreed. She got Jamie’s address from her, and said she’d come over after church.
* * *
In Sarasota, when times were happier, Kristin loved going to church with her family. She volunteered with the youth group to collect food for the hungry at holidays and gathered school supplies for needy students before the start of school. Now they were on the other side of need, and Kristin felt helpless.
“Rob, you have to go,” Kristin’s mother was saying to her husband. “I’ve been telling everyone that I’m bringing the whole family today!”
“Becca, I just can’t. Two people called in sick and they need me at the store today. Besides, I could use the hours.”
“One of the conditions of you working with your brother was no Sundays,” Rebecca insisted. “Sundays are family time.”
Kristin looked up from her book. “I have to go into town and work on a project with a girl from school today.”
“Well, just great!” Rebecca fumed. “So much for spending some quality family time together!”
“Look, Becca, we need the money, and it’s a job. Mike even said if you wanted some cashier hours at the store he could arrange it on the schedule.”
“No,” said Rebecca firmly. “I need to be available for my family.”
“I’ll take some cashier hours,” offered Kristin.
“Absolutely not! No child of mine is going to be caught dead ringing up groceries!” Rebecca picked up her purse and slammed the door on her way to the car.
“Dad, I did kind of get a job offer to cover high school sports for the local paper,” Kristin said, putting her computer and books into her back pack.
Rob suddenly looked tired.
“I’d love for you to have that opportunity, but not now. I can’t be going back and forth to town to pick you up late at night.”
“I understand,” she said, hoisting her bag onto her back. “I just want to do something to help.”
Kristin, Rob and Lucas walked out to the car where Rebecca sat waiting in the driver seat with the car running.
* * *
The sermon wasn’t one that Kristin particularly cared for; it was heavy on the fire and brimstone, and there was a lot of yelling and accusatory rhetoric in the pastor’s words. When the service was over, she and her brother stood by her mother, who introduced them to as many people as she could.
“Oh, Rebecca, what a lovely family you have,” said an old lady who pinched Lucas’s cheek.
“We have a Bible study group that meets here every Tuesday and Thursday night, if you are interested,” another woman said.
“I would love to join you,” said Rebecca, pleased at the invitation.
“And we have a youth group that meets on Wednesdays. You two could join,” the woman said to Kristin and Lucas.
Kristin was caught off guard. “Uh, maybe. I’ll have to see what my schedule is like.”
“Oh, Pastor Rich, these are my children, Kristin and Lucas.”
An older man stood over Kristin and put his hand on her shoulder and left it there.
“Hello, Kristin,” he said in a thick New England accent. “How would you like to work in the children’s room during worship?”
Kristin wanted to be polite, but she felt uncomfortable with the man’s touch.
“Maybe,” she said, wanting to pull away from him.
“You’d be paid,” he said.
“Oh, that would be wonderful,” Rebecca said. “Kristin was just saying she’d like to earn some of her own money, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, but—”
“You can start next Sunday,” he said. “Six dollars an hour.”
Pastor Rich gave Kristin the creeps, and she wanted him to get his hand off her.
“I guess,” she said. “I’ll need to talk to my dad first.”
“Kristin—” Rebecca started to reprimand her daughter.
“Oh, no, Rebecc
a, that’s a very wise thing for a young lady to say. By all means, run it past your father first.”
He finally removed his hand from her shoulder and moved on to make small talk with some other congregants.
“That’s what we’ll get if we elect a nigger Muslim to the White House,” Kristin overheard a man saying to the group that included her mother.
Kristin drew in a sharp breath of revulsion to the word she just heard.
Lucas heard it, too. They looked at each other, then at their mother, expecting her to speak up to the man who said it. She said nothing, and continued talking as if she didn’t hear the comment.
“I’ll see you at the car,” Kristin said angrily, glaring at the man who said the slur.
“Me, too,” said Lucas.
“Mom, did you hear what that guy said?” Kristin asked once they were all in the car.
“Listen up. You kids need to understand that there are people out there who are just takers, and want to ruin our country. Do you know that Sharia law is being used in this country’s legal system?”
“Mom, no it isn’t! Where are you hearing this? And what does that have to do with that guy using the n-word?” Kristin was furious. “Don’t you see that we are takers now? Who do you think pays for our free lunches? Jesus?”
“Don’t talk back to me, young lady, or I’ll pull over and we will straighten this out once and for all!”
Kristin thought of the two times her mother had hit her and wondered where this newfound hate was being instilled in her mother.
“Just drop me off at this girl’s house so I can do this project,” Kristin said.
They drove down Jamie’s street, looking at the house numbers on the mailbox. They pulled into a wide tree-lined driveway that lead to an enormous home with a well-manicured lawn.
“Wow,” said Lucas, “they must be rich!”
Kristin pulled her back pack out of the car.
“I’ll text dad when I’m ready to go,” she said and shut the car door.
Rebecca backed out of the driveway and Kristin followed the stone walkway up to the door. She looked in the kitchen door and saw people moving around, so she knocked. Jamie answered the door, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that said Stowe Soccer on the front.
“Come in.”
“Hi,” said Kristin as she stepped into the kitchen and set her back pack on the floor.
The house was large and roomy, with a huge kitchen that had an island in the middle of the room. Modern, expensive appliances were installed in granite countertops, and two nice televisions with football games on were set on the counters. A large expanse of what looked to be a family room was off the kitchen, and Kristin saw that another television had a football game on in that room, too.
Lucas was right. They were rich.
* * *
“Who you playing today?” John asked Jamie.
“Jack. He’s projected to beat me by thirty points,” Jamie answered, finalizing her fantasy football lineup.
“Projections are just that,” he said. “Projections.”
“Someone from school is coming over today to work on a group project,” Jamie said.
“Okay. How are your grades?”
“Fine,” Jamie lied.
“I’m going to go check,” he said. “In my day, parents didn’t know how their kids were doing until a report card came home. I love being able to look online.”
“They’re fine, dad!” Jamie said nervously.
“Are they? I’ll find out.”
Jamie went out to the Jeep and got her books and put them on the kitchen counter by the television.
John came back in the kitchen.
“Fine, Jamie? Really?”
Angela heard John yelling and came into the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”
“This is what’s wrong!” John waved a piece of paper in the air. “Algebra 2, B-. Physics, C. Economics, D+! American Literature, C. Spanish, C. What is going on?”
“Some of the teachers haven’t put all the grades in yet,” Jamie said.
“Don’t blame your teachers, Jamie! You better get these up!” John stormed out of the room.
“Why are your grades so bad?” Angela asked.
A knock on the door interrupted them. Kristin was standing out on the porch and Jamie saw her curly hair through the window.
“Who’s that?” Angela asked.
“A girl from my school. We have to do some project.” Jamie opened the door. “Come in.”
“Hi,” said Kristin. She carried a full backpack in and put it on the floor.
“Hi,” Jamie said. Her heart sped up in her chest and she felt her face get hot.
“Hello,” said Angela.
“Hi, I’m Kristin.”
“Angela, Jamie’s mother.” They shook hands.
“So, you ready?” Kristin saw Jamie’s books on the counter. “Are we working in here?”
“Sure,” said Jamie.
“Dammit, Jamie!” John returned to the kitchen, but stopped when he saw Kristin.
“John, this is Kristin. She’s here to do homework with Jamie,” Angela said pointedly.
“Hello,” he said, and turned back to Jamie. “You better get your damn work done!”
“Okay, you’ve made your point. Let them be so they can work,” Angela said, trying to steer him out of the kitchen.
“I thought you were going to work on your college applications today,” John said, standing over Jamie.
“I will. We have to work on this project for Lit today.” Jamie minimized the window on her computer that displayed her fantasy team.
“You have been saying ‘I will’ about those applications for a month now. I told those coaches you would have them in soon.”
Jamie was getting embarrassed. “I’ll get them done, okay?”
“When?” her dad demanded. “These coaches are going to have to pull some strings to get you in, and they can’t do that if you won’t even take the time to apply!”
“I can’t get in if I don’t get my Lit project done!” Jamie glared at her dad.
“Okay, let them be. We’ll discuss this later,” Angela said. “Kristin, can I take your coat?”
“No, thanks, I’ll leave it on. I’m freezing.”
John went over to the thermostat and frowned.
“It is sixty-five degrees in here,” he announced.
“I’m fine, I’ll just keep my coat on,” Kristin said.
John moved the switch on the thermostat up. Jamie and her mother gave each other looks of surprise; her dad never turned the heat up for them.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Angela asked.
“Water would be great, thanks.”
Angela got Kristin a glass of water and said to Jamie, “You need to get this work done and get started on your applications.”
“I know!” Jamie said hotly.
Kristin noticed the two TVs on the kitchen counter that were broadcasting football games.
“Are they going to stay on?” Kristin asked.
“Yeah, is that okay?” asked Jamie. “I play fantasy football and I like to track my players.”
“I usually don’t have the TV on when I work, but whatever.” Kristin took her computer and notebook out of her bag.
“Do you play fantasy football?” Jamie asked.
“No,” said Kristin shortly.
Jamie turned the volume down on the TVs in the kitchen.
“So, I started thinking about what influences the social and political environment had on the two plays,” said Kristin.
“Have you read them both already?” Jamie asked.
“I read both years ago for fun, but I reread them again last week.”
Jamie shot her a puzzled look. Who read for fun?
Her attention went back to her computer screen. Jack’s defense had intercepted a pass and run it back for a touchdown on the second play of the game.
“Pick six, shit!”
“Jamie, come on.
Focus on this. What do you think is the underlying theme of the play?”
“I don’t know. Hope?” Jamie asked.
Kristin gave Jamie a funny look. “Hope? The main character commits suicide. Have you even read it?”
“I’ve looked at it,” Jamie said.
“You’ve looked at it? What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve, you know, picked it up and looked it over.”
“Really. Okay, what decade does the play take place?”
“The 1970s?” Jamie guessed.
Kristin took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“Name one character in the play.”
“Wasn’t there a Bill?” Jamie realized Kristin was staring at her with her mouth open. “What?”
“You haven’t read this at all, have you?” Kristin asked.
“No, but--,”
“You know we’re going to be tested on one of our plays next week and he is going to take the average score of the group and that will be the grade both of us get?” Kristin’s voice was rising.
“Yeah,” said Jamie. “We’ll be fine. I can get a C, and you’ll get an A, so when we average them out it’ll be a B.”
“I don’t get B’s!” Kristin snapped. “How do you plan on getting a C when you haven’t even read it?”
John and Angela heard Kristin and came to stand in the doorway of the kitchen.
“Please tell me you have spent more time reading this play than you have on your fantasy football today!” She got up and started pacing around the kitchen.
Jamie remained silent, looking like a guilty child being scolded by a parent.
Kristin threw her hands in the air. “Great. The easiest class I have, and I’ll be lucky to get a B. Unbelievable.”
Kristin slammed her book down on the counter, making everyone jump.
“You live in a world of fantasy football and I live in a world of reality where group projects need to be completed by all the members of the group.”
Jamie put her head down. For once, she felt terrible that she hadn’t done her work.
