by Rob Buyea
Next he decided he was going to carry a tower of books to our new room. He said he’d had enough of boxes, and figured he could carry more as a tower anyway. Those chapter books can have slippery covers. I tried telling him, but no.
“Peter, they’re not LEGOs,” I said.
“Ta-da!” He stood up with his tower, his bottom hand by his knees, his top hand above his eyes. He took a few steps and then it happened. The middle book sprang free, setting off a domino effect of books shooting out of his tower like bullets. After the frenzy, Peter stood there with one book in his hands.
“Maybe you should try a different approach,” Mr. Terupt said, chuckling—again.
“I wanted to see if it would work,” Peter said.
“Well, now you know,” Mr. Terupt said. “But that’s good. You were experimenting. That’s science. I like that.”
Peter looked at me and shrugged. I smiled and shook my head.
Despite his mess-ups, Peter showed up every day to help. As long as his mess-ups didn’t turn into an accident like last year, I was fine with his good intentions.
The annex was a little complex separate from the main school building. It looked just like the main school, same red brick and windows, but it wasn’t attached.
“Mr. Terupt, why do we even have an annex?” I asked. We were carrying boxes down to our new room. “I’ve never seen another school with one.”
“Well, my best guess is that at some point, the town must have decided they needed more space for all the students, so the annex was constructed. It was probably the wisest solution.”
The annex wasn’t far from the main building, just a short distance down the sidewalk out the side door, but it was still a lot of work to move. We had to box up all of Mr. Terupt’s things, move them, and then unpack them and get the stuff put away. That’s the part I liked, the putting-away part. I liked it because then I got to decide how to arrange our new classroom, and I liked it because I got to do it with Ms. Newberry. She was also there every day.
There were some beautiful bookcases in our new room. A few low-to-the-ground ones and a couple that climbed up the side wall. Mr. Terupt had plenty of books for the shelves. He had old ones and new ones. One day I opened an older-looking one, Belle Prater’s Boy by Ruth White, and I saw an inscription: Happy Twelfth Birthday, William. Love, Mom. Below it, Mr. Terupt had written his full name, William Owen Terupt, and his home address. His books were his treasures, just like they were for Jessica.
William was a good name for Mr. Terupt. He could be serious and taken seriously like a William, he could be fun and a bit wild and crazy like a young boy named Billy, or maybe he was a young handsome catch named Will. Mr. Terupt had a great personality. William was the perfect name for him.
I read his book—Belle Prater’s Boy. I had gotten into reading more because of Mr. Terupt and Jessica. The story was about a boy missing his mama, wondering what happened to her. It made me wonder more about my father and who he was.
I spent several days working with Ms. Newberry, organizing Mr. Terupt’s books on those shelves.
“You like him, don’t you?” I said, working next to her one day. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I had to ask so I could hear her answer.
“Of course I like him, Anna. Everyone likes Mr. Terupt.”
“No,” I said. “Not like that. I mean, you really like him, don’t you?”
Now she stopped. She looked down at the books in her hands and smiled. Then she looked at me, still smiling. But before she answered, Ms. Newberry asked me a question.
“What makes you think that, Anna? Is it because I’m here every day?”
“No,” I said. “It’s not that. It’s the way you look at him.”
“Oh,” she said. And then her smile grew even bigger.
When we finished we had a great reading corner with lots of light from the windows on our back wall. I knew Jessica was going to like that. There was also a row of cabinets with a nice countertop all along the window area and a back door that was all glass and that opened directly to the outside. Our front door opened to the hallway inside the annex. We had a sink area on the wall opposite the books, and next to the sink stood several tall cabinets for storage. We arranged the desks in tables of four. I liked our new room, and so did Mr. Terupt. When he first looked at our finished reading corner, he was all smiles.
I didn’t tell Ms. Newberry, but it wasn’t just the way she looked at him. It was the way he looked at her, too.
The school year ended with good news. Real good news. But that was where it stopped. There was still hardly anything between Mom and Dad, and I didn’t know how to fix it. Dad would leave for work every morning and Mom would stay home. She got dressed most days, but not all. Sometimes she made dinner, but not often, and when she did, we ate separately, never as a family.
Dad was a self-employed handyman, so he didn’t have to work with people, and he worked when he wanted and as much as he wanted. Mom had a job at Home Depot in one of the managerial positions before my brother, Michael, died. That’s how she and Dad met. He was in the store getting materials when he first saw her. He liked what he saw, so he kept finding reasons to go back. He would ask for her help every time, and one thing led to another. But now they barely talk. And Mom isn’t ready to deal with lots of people the way she had to at work. So she stays home.
I chose to go to school every chance I got. I helped Terupt move our classroom. Peter, Anna, Alexia, and Danielle helped, too. Was it because their homes stunk, like mine? Or was it because they wanted to be there? I could tell Ms. Newberry wanted to be there. I wished Mom and Dad felt for each other the way it seemed Terupt and Ms. Newberry did. How do you get that back once it’s gone? I wondered.
I missed Jessica and Luke not bein’ around. I was ready for school to start. What a difference a year with Terupt made.
I spent my summer at science camp. It was something my mom had signed me up for before Mr. Terupt’s accident, and she insisted that I attend because it would be good for me to get away for a little while. She knew I’d try to spend every day at school with Mr. Terupt, otherwise.
“He wants you to go, honey,” Mom said. “You can see him when you get back.”
The camp was awesome! It was at the Science Minds Museum. We were given materials and challenged to invent different things. We studied all sorts of critters and habitats. We conducted experiments and worked with chemicals. I didn’t tell anyone, but I figured out where I went wrong with my plant concoction that caused it to go bonkers and set off the fire alarm last year. My favorite part of the camp was our work as detectives, though. We were given a Mystery of the Day and then challenged to work with our team to uncover clues and ultimately solve the mystery.
When the camp ended I visited Mr. Terupt. Our classroom had been moved down to the annex, so that’s where I found him, and Jeffrey. The room looked terrific. “Peter, Anna, and Jeffrey helped out a lot,” Mr. Terupt said. “Alexia was here quite a bit too in the beginning of the summer, but not so much lately.”
“I brought you a gift,” I said. I went out into the hall and grabbed my surprise. “One of the things I loved at science camp was the tank habitats of various animals located throughout the museum, so I put one together for our classroom. I have two anoles in here, Jackson and Lincoln, named after two of our presidents, number seven, Andrew Jackson, and number sixteen, Abraham Lincoln. I did some reading this summer about the presidents on our currency. Jackson’s on the twenty-dollar bill and Lincoln’s on the penny and the five-dollar bill.”
“Wow!” Jeffrey said. “That’s awesome!”
“The tank looks beautiful, Luke,” Mr. Terupt said. “Thank you.”
“Can we put it on the back counter?” Jeffrey asked. “That’s the perfect place for it.” Jeffrey carried the tank away before Mr. Terupt could even answer.
“Tell me, Luke, what exactly are anoles?” Mr. Terupt asked.
“They’re often called chameleons because of the
ir color-changing ability, though they look nothing alike and chameleons come from different parts of the world,” I said. “The color changing is a camouflage technique, but if they turn dark brown for too long, that’s a sign of them being stressed or sick. It’s really important not to let them get dehydrated. We need to wet the bog two or three times a day with this spray bottle.”
“Whoa! That guy just grabbed a cricket and bit his head off!” Jeffrey yelled. Mr. Terupt and I smiled at each other.
I walked over and gave Jeffrey the spray bottle and showed him what to do; then I told Mr. Terupt all about my science camp.
“We’ll see if all that work helps you solve this year’s riddles,” he said.
One thing I learned at camp was that scientists don’t start with the answers, and sometimes they never even find the answers. Instead, they are almost always asking questions. Questions that come from their observations. And they can only make these observations if they pay attention to everything and use all their senses. So I planned to pay attention and ask lots of questions in sixth grade.
QUESTIONS
—Why isn’t Lexie around as much now?
—What riddles?
Detective Luke
“You ever smoke before, Goody Two-shoes?” Reena asked me.
“Yeah,” I lied. I didn’t like her calling me that. That was what I used to call Jessica—when I was being mean.
“Yeah, right,” she said. “What’re you, in kindergarten?”
“Sixth,” I said.
“It’s all right if you haven’t before. You’re young,” Lisa said. “You probably haven’t had the chance.”
“Sixth grade is a good time to try it,” Reena said. She put a cigarette in her mouth and lit it. Then she passed it to Lisa, who handed it to me.
“It’s no sweat, Lexie. You’ll see next year—everybody does it,” Lisa said.
“It helps you take the edge off, Little Brat. Give it a try. You’ll see.”
“I’d join ya, but I can’t,” Brandon said. “It’s training season.”
I didn’t know what else to do, so I brought the white stick to my mouth. I curled my lips around it and sucked in. Instantly, I started coughing my head off. It tasted awful, and it made my lungs burn like there was a fire in my chest!
“That’s it.” Brandon slapped me on the back. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
“Do you have a boyfriend, Lexie?” Lisa asked me.
I noticed the dark maroon circle smudged around her cigarette from her lipstick. Reena’s circle was fire-engine red. “No,” I said, and hacked some more.
“The boys should be hot after you,” Reena said. “You’re a pretty little brat.”
I was wearing pink shorts with a white T-shirt and flipflops. My hair was pulled back with a fancy heart scrunchie.
“It’s time you ditch that baby lip gloss and try some real lipstick,” Reena said. “And lose the scrunchie.”
I shrugged. I was okay with that.
Lisa gave me an elastic to use in my hair and she helped me wipe off my Princess Pink lip gloss and apply her dark maroon lipstick. “You can keep that,” she said, giving me the tube.
“Thanks,” I said.
I looked at the dark maroon circle around my cigarette in between coughs.
“Now, that’s fresh,” Brandon said about my new look.
“Totally,” Lisa agreed.
Suddenly my cheeks and ears burned like my chest. I couldn’t look at Brandon. I liked getting complimented by a boy, even though I knew this one was taken.
After I finished my cigarette, Reena decided it was time for me to leave. “It’s gonna be gettin’ past your bedtime. I think you should probably go.” She led me back to the front.
When we got to the porch, Reena grabbed me by my elbow. “Listen, Little Brat. You can come back and chill with us anytime. You don’t need to be scared, but you better not tell anybody about our hangout, or else.” She squeezed my arm hard and smiled at the same time.
I left.
My summer was great! A lot of kids complain that they get bored over the summer, but not me. I got to do a bunch of different things. Some days I spent at school helping Mr. Terupt; other days I spent on the farm. Either I pitched in with Grandma and Mom, learning more as I helped them cook and sew, or I gave Charlie a hand with the milking and walking the pastures, checking on the cows getting ready to calf. I also rode the tractors with Dad and Grandpa, and helped them fix whatever needed fixing. And Grandma and I tended to the garden together. That was an everyday thing.
There were also times when Anna came over with her mother. Anna and I found all sorts of things to do together, and once in a while Anna hung out with my brother and I hung out with her mom. That’s when I got to do some artwork with Terri, but we always did it out of sight of Grandma and Grandpa. Mom and Dad had grown comfortable around Terri. Mom even offered Terri coffee or pie when she came over, and she was getting better at having conversation with her.
Every day was different in a good way. In fact, I can only remember two bad days. One was on the hottest afternoon of the season when a group of us decided to go to the public pool. I had just put my stuff down when some jerk walked by and said, “No whales allowed.” No one else heard him, but I didn’t even get in the water. That was definitely a crummy day, but this other time upset me more because I didn’t understand why what happened was a big deal.
I was outside. It was sunny, both hot and bright, and I was sweating. I was with Grandma, working in the garden. I wasn’t right next to her, so it wasn’t until I looked up that I saw she was over with Grandpa, peering off into the distance. I shaded my eyes and looked as hard as I could. The only thing I could make out was a man walking across our fields. He was way far out, so I couldn’t tell much about him. But I could tell that Grandma and Grandpa were getting all mad. They made hard arm gestures and Grandpa stomped away. When Grandma turned toward me, I saw her twisted and pained face.
I walked over to where she stood. “Grandma, what’s wrong?”
“Nothin’.”
“Grandma, I saw that man walking across our fields and I saw you and Grandpa. What’s wrong?”
“I said nothin’. Now back to pickin’ those weeds and don’t ask me any more questions.”
Later that night, I found my family sitting around the kitchen table in serious discussion. When I walked in, the talking stopped. I knew something was up, and it wasn’t “nothin’,” like Grandma had said.
That’s the day that kept coming back to me. I didn’t know what it was all about, but I had a feeling it wasn’t good. I kept staring out into our fields, and so did Grandpa, but I never spotted anyone else out there.
Dear God,
I’m not sure what that man was doing in our fields. I’m not sure who he was. But he seems to have given Grandpa, and the rest of my family, a lot to worry about. Please comfort them, and help me figure out what’s going on. And God, this isn’t as important, especially ’cause I know how busy you must be, but if you do have the time, I’d like it if you could teach that mean boy from the pool a lesson. Thanks. Amen.
september
FADE IN: Camera starts with an aerial view of Snow Hill School. We see children entering the building with brand-new backpacks and bright sneakers. Camera follows JESSICA as she walks through the front entrance. We see teachers greeting students as they arrive. We follow JESSICA out the side door and down to the annex, where we find MR. TERUPT standing outside his door.
JESSICA VO
(while approaching Mr. Terupt)
The start of another school year with Mr. Terupt is upon us. I’m thinking about happy endings. Mr. Terupt and I both like them. I’m hoping for another one this year.
MR. TERUPT
Hello, Miss Jessica. You look very nice.
JESSICA
(with a slight bow)
Thank you. You look handsome yourself.
A proud MR. TERUPT smooths his tie and tips his head in apprec
iation.
JESSICA
I’m really excited to do this all again.
MR. TERUPT
(leaning closer to Jessica)
Me too. Let’s be sure to finish with another happy ending.
JESSICA
(walking into the classroom)
You can count on me.
JESSICA VO
Roller-coaster rides have always been my favorite. After all the ups and downs and twists and turns, I always get off them laughing and smiling. Fifth grade was a bit of a roller coaster, but it was one that I don’t need to go on again. I’m hoping for more of a merry-go-round with sixth grade.
FADE OUT.
Imagine being reminded of the worst thing you ever did—every single day for the rest of your whole entire life. I suppose people sentenced to life in prison might feel that way. I still thought about that day in the snow all the time, especially when I was with Mr. T.
You know how when you see something different or unusual, it’s hard not to stare? But after a while, you get used to it and then you don’t need to keep staring? Mr. T had a dent on the side of his head where they did the surgery. I used to stare at it all the time on those days when I was helping him, but eventually I got used to it. Getting used to it didn’t mean it stopped reminding me of that snowball, though. I wasn’t ever forgetting about that.
In some ways the start of school was no different from the summer. Richard went back to his prep school, Northfield Mount Hermon, and Mom and Dad kept up business as usual. That left just me and Miss Catalina, our au pair, at home.
The different part was that the clock started ticking. I knew it was going to be an awesome sixth-grade year with Mr. T manning the controls, but I also knew this was the beginning of the end. There was no chance of Mr. T following us to seventh grade, because there was no seventh grade at Snow Hill School. Instead, we’d have sixth-grade graduation, then move on to the regional high school. That was true for everyone but me. My new school would be Riverway, an all-boys’ junior boarding school for grades seven and eight located in Massachusetts. The same school my brother, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather had all attended. So this was it.…
