by Rob Buyea
“That’s my grandson,” Grandpa answered. “Come here, Scott.”
I’d already met Coach, but that’s how things worked with him.
“Is he going to read to us?” Coach asked.
“I’m here to get my grandpa,” I said, walking over to them. “We’re taking him to get ice cream.”
“Scott, this is Coach. Coach, this here is my grandson, Scott. Smartest kid I ever met,” Grandpa said, introducing us once again.
“Are you going to read to us?” Coach asked.
“No,” Grandpa said. “He’s here to pick me up. Your wife will be here soon. She’ll read to you from her journal.”
“What about our game?”
“It’s halftime,” Grandpa said.
That was smart, because it was the perfect explanation for Coach. He understood.
“It’s my friend Gavin who reads to you sometimes,” I said. “Not me.”
“Valentine’s a good reader,” Coach said.
“I’ll tell him you said that.” Gavin had told me how Coach called him that name. “He got a book of poems from the library that he plans to share with you this summer.”
“I like poems,” Coach said. “That’s my favorite one over there.” He pointed to the wall behind me.
I turned and looked, but it wasn’t the poem that grabbed my attention. “Who’s Olivia?” I asked, reading the name that was at the bottom of all those paintings he had hanging.
“My daughter,” Coach said. “See how she hides flowers in all her pictures and always puts one in her name.”
“Yeah,” I said, looking closer.
“She loves flowers,” Coach said. “When she was little, we used to love the picture book about a girl who makes the world a better place by spreading lupines.”
“Miss Rumphius,” I said.
“That’s right.”
“I know that book. It smells good.” Grandpa and Coach thought that was funny, but it was true. “Your daughter is an amazing artist,” I said.
“I’ll tell her you said that.”
Grandpa snorted. “C’mon, Scott. Let’s go get that ice cream.”
“See you later, Coach,” I said.
“Thanks for the warning,” he replied.
I had to think about that for a second, but Grandpa and Coach were already laughing their heads off. Seeing and hearing those two cracking up together got me laughing with them. It made me happy to see Grandpa happy. And that made me feel even better because I had helped.
“You know something?” Grandpa said after we’d made it down the hall a ways. “This place isn’t so bad. I’ve made some friends, and I’ve still got Grandma with me. Miss my house and my cat, that’s all.”
“Mom’s working on getting things changed so you can have Smoky here,” I said.
“That’d be nice. Gotta have my cat. He saved my life.”
“I hope you never lose Grandma like Coach is losing his memories,” I said.
“Me too,” Grandpa said, rubbing the back of my neck and giving me a squeeze.
Mom and Mickey were waiting for us when we got to the front. “Ice cream!” Mickey yelled. “Ice cream!” He was jumping up and down.
“I’m coming as fast as these old legs will carry me,” Grandpa said.
“Ice cream!”
“Bye, boys,” Eddie called from the side. “Have fun.” She waved at us.
We waved back and walked out the door. Once we got outside, Grandpa said, “I think she’s got the hots for me.”
“Dad!” Mom cried.
“They’ve all got the hots for you, Grandpa. Dad says you could have dinner with a different lady each night if you wanted.”
“Scott, don’t encourage him,” Mom said, and laughed.
We got to the car, and I jumped into the backseat with Mickey so Grandpa could ride shotgun. Mom eased out of the parking lot, and we were on our way.
I’ll always remember sixth grade. It was the year of my biggest mess-up and my greatest accomplishments. Things were lost (like my permission slip and Grandpa’s house), but a lot was gained. We added a cat to the family, I caught my first touchdown pass, Grandpa had friends (and girlfriends), and I had friends (but no girlfriend). I was so excited to start Mrs. Magenta’s program again. It was going to be another unforgettable year with the Recruits.
The U-Haul was packed. Dad had found my brother an apartment and was moving him out. It was time for Brian to grow up and stand on his own two feet. Dad was done babying him.
I didn’t know what to say to my brother, so I stayed away. I stood by my bedroom window and watched my mother hug him and then go wait next to my father. I watched my brother climb into the U-Haul and back out of our driveway.
Brian looked at me right before driving down the road. We saw each other, and then he was gone.
—
When Mark came over later that day, I told him I was feeling bad about everything that had happened with Brian.
“Trev, you needed to tell. You know that. You did your brother a favor. Besides, I wrote stuff about him and you in my affidavit. I was always scared to tell anyone. I didn’t want to make things worse for you. And I didn’t want you to get mad at me. But when I had to write my statement, I knew being your friend meant telling. It’s not all on you.”
“Do you think things will be better now?”
“Here or at school?”
“Both,” I said.
“It’ll be quiet here, but that won’t matter, because we’re going to be spending all our time at practice and games.”
“The school isn’t going to make the tests part of our eligibility, then?”
“Not now,” Mark said. “My dad says we got the board to listen and rethink their policies.”
“I know making us join Mrs. Magenta’s program is supposed to be our punishment, but it’s not going to be that bad. I’m kind of looking forward to it.”
“Me too,” Mark said.
NATALIE KURTSMAN
ASPIRING LAWYER
Kurtsman Law Offices
BRIEF #30
June: Reflection
Would I do it all again? It’s hard to say. I wouldn’t ever advise cheating, but if I were in the same exact predicament, I have a sneaking suspicion the answer might be yes. Sometimes we do the wrong things for the right reasons. It’s not always black-and-white. It’s tough when your brain and heart don’t seem to agree. But I’ve found it’s easier to change your mind than your heart. You should follow your heart, because a good heart makes a good person, whereas a good brain can still make a bad person. The Recruits all have good hearts—that’s what makes us special.
NATALIE KURTSMAN
ASPIRING LAWYER
Kurtsman Law Offices
BRIEF #31
June: A Birthday Surprise
You can choose to have any sort of birthday party, but I would argue the best kind is the one you don’t plan. The one you don’t know about. The surprise birthday party.
We had it at Randi’s house. We arrived early to help with the preparations. Trevor and Mark took care of decorating the place with streamers and signs, while Gavin and I got things set up for our party games. We filled water balloons, hung a piñata, and erected a badminton net. Randi and her mother worked on the food. They baked these monstrous cupcakes covered in extra frosting. Those absolutely needed to be kept hidden, because once Scott saw them, he was going to lose all control.
It’s hard to explain how incredibly excited we were. We were giving Scott the party he’d always wanted. We were granting his wish this time. We had it all worked out so that his mother would bring him at one o’clock. She was going to make it seem like she needed to stop by to get something from Randi’s mother.
As Gavin would say, we executed our game plan and scored a touchdown. Things went off without a hitch. It was textbook. When Scott walked in and we yelled, “Surprise!” his body shook with excitement. It took him a second to gather himself, but once he did, he was jumping up
and down and squealing. His mother, on the other hand, was quietly sobbing. Seeing that made my throat tighten.
It wasn’t only his arrival that went well, but the entire party. The games, the piñata, the food—all of it. After Scott had stuffed his face with three cupcakes, we decided it was time to give him his gifts. It was at this point in the festivities that we found out we were the ones in for the biggest surprise of all.
Scott ripped the paper away from his first present. “I know you love reading,” Gavin said, “so I got you a book. The character in this story, Miss Rumphius, spreads goodness to the rest of the world. It made me think of you.”
“Aww,” Trevor teased.
“I know this book,” Scott said. “It’s your friend Coach’s favorite, too. He told me when I was over there to get Grandpa. He used to read it with his daughter.”
“Wait. What?” Gavin said.
“Coach used to read this book with his daughter when she was little. His daughter loves flowers like Miss Rumphius. She sticks them in all her paintings. He has a couple of her pictures hanging in his room.”
Gavin shook his head. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it!”
“Whoa. Relax, bro,” Trevor said.
“What is it, Gav?” Randi asked.
He sat back and stared at us. “Guys, Mrs. Magenta is Coach’s daughter. And I’m pretty sure Mrs. Woods is his wife.”
“What?!” we all exclaimed.
Gavin repeated what he had told us. “Which also means Mrs. Woods is Mrs. Magenta’s mother,” he added.
I now understood the expression “hit me like a ton of bricks.”
Gavin explained everything: from what Mrs. Magenta had said when she first gave him Miss Rumphius in the library, to her paintings, to the way she knew so much about Coach and cared for him, to his discovery of Mrs. Woods reading to Coach from her journal so that he might remember. It all made sense, especially when we thought back to the way Mrs. Magenta and Mrs. Woods had behaved this year. Still, it was hard to believe. But when Gavin told us what Coach had said about there still being time on the clock for his wife and daughter, we knew there was something else we wanted to fix—and this time it was something far more important than our test scores. We were thinking of others before ourselves, just as Mrs. Woods had written in our Classroom Doctrine.
Wasn’t it interesting how our year together had brought us to this point? Randi would say it was destiny—and I might agree.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My deepest thanks to:
The many players making up the Random House Children’s Books team, for bringing The Perfect Score to life and for continuing to cheer me on.
Marilyn Burns, for her book About Teaching Mathematics, from which Mrs. Magenta’s King Arthur problem was adapted.
Rebecca Weston, who believed in this story from its earliest days. Your patience, encouragement, and insights were invaluable to me. It was a pleasure.
Françoise Bui, for helping me reach the finish line.
Leslie Mechanic, for her persistence and care in making the terrific illustrations. Gavin loves them!
My agent, Paul Fedorko, who’s always there when I need him.
Beverly Horowitz, who has been with me every step of the way, from the very beginning. I couldn’t ask for a better person to be in my corner.
My family. Writing a book is a roller-coaster ride. There are highs and lows. It can go fast and it can go slow. You might even get flipped upside-down and yanked backward. Lucky for me, my family loves roller coasters. Thank you, Emma, Lily, and Anya, for always being ready for more. I wouldn’t choose to go on the ride with anyone else. And thank you, Beth, for always making sure I’m okay along the way and especially after the ride is over. I love you all.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ROB BUYEA taught third and fourth graders for six years; then he taught high school biology and coached wrestling for seven years. Currently, he is a full-time writer and lives in Massachusetts with his wife and daughters. His first novel, Because of Mr. Terupt, was selected as an E. B. White Read Aloud Honor Book and a Cybils Honor Book. It has also won seven state awards and was named to numerous state reading lists. Mr. Terupt Falls Again and Saving Mr. Terupt are companion novels to Because of Mr. Terupt. Visit him online at robbuyea.com and on Facebook, and follow @RobBuyea on Twitter.
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