by Rob Buyea
If I was so grown up because of all this, I wondered, why couldn’t I find the courage to tell my father I didn’t want to go to that boarding school?
Like, it was a no-brainer. As soon as school was over, I jumped on my bike and pedaled to the Old Woods hangout. I’d been going there pretty regularly. I needed to talk to somebody about my day, and I knew there wouldn’t be anyone at home.
I walked in and found Reena and Lisa busy doing homework—the usual. They were always doing homework, ever since school started. They were both taking accelerated classes. Brandon wasn’t around because he was at football practice, but he would show up later to give the girls a ride.
“Done!” Reena said, slamming down her pen. She pulled out a cigarette and lit up. Then she passed the lighter to Lisa. I didn’t want to smoke, so I jumped right in telling my story, hoping they wouldn’t make me take a puff.
“You guys are never gonna believe what happened today!” I said.
“Oh, yeah, ’cause kindergarten is so unbelievable,” Reena said. “Sit down, Little Brat. You need to chill. A smoke will take that edge off.”
My plan didn’t work. I sat down ’cause Reena told me to, and she sounded serious. She scared me when she grabbed my arm that time, so like, I didn’t mess with her. She passed me a cigarette and lit it for me. I took a puff and coughed. Even though I’d smoked with them a few times, I still wasn’t that good at it, and I still didn’t like it all that much. It tasted awful. But Reena and Lisa said that everyone smoked because it helped you chill. Apparently, high school was full of stress.
“You’re gonna need this once you join the big girls. Trust me,” Reena said.
“I like your lipstick,” Lisa said. I was wearing the dark maroon color that she had given me. I smiled. “You look grown up.”
I liked Lisa. She was nice and beautiful, and she had a boyfriend. I wanted to be like her.
“Yeah, the boys were probably all over you today, huh,” Reena teased. “You cute little thing.”
I didn’t know how much I liked Reena. She was nice and mean at the same time.
“So what’s up with your parents, Lexie? They don’t care if you wear lipstick and hang out here?” Reena wanted to know.
I shrugged. “Mom threw Dad out of the house a while ago, so he’s out of the picture,” I answered. I took another puff. “And Mom’s usually asleep when I leave for school in the morning, and she doesn’t get home from work until late.”
“You’re on your own a lot, then,” Reena said. “That’s pretty grown up for a kindergartner.”
“I’m not in kindergarten! I’m in sixth grade!” I yelled.
“Simmer down,” Reena said. Then she laughed. “You need to chill.”
I must have been chill to spill my guts to them like that. Maybe the cigarettes were working? Not! I blurted out everything because I was sick of Reena’s mouth and I was trying to impress them.
“What grade are you guys in?” I asked.
“Tenth,” Lisa said, “except Brandon. He’s a junior. But don’t start worrying about us. Tell us what happened today.”
I told my story. They sat and listened and didn’t say anything. For once, Reena didn’t open her smart mouth. Not until I was done, at least.
“That’s the most messed-up story I’ve ever heard,” Reena said.
“Sad,” Lisa said softly, shaking her head.
“C’mon, let’s blow this joint,” Brandon said. I didn’t even know he was there. He must have just showed up.
Lisa got to her feet in a flash and took Brandon’s arm. “Bye, Lexie.”
“See ya, Little Brat,” Reena said.
I left right after them. Brandon gave me a thumbs-up as they pulled away in his black car. I watched them leave. His tires spit gravel everywhere when he stomped on the gas and did a nasty fishtail out of the driveway onto Old Woods Road. The car wasn’t anything special, but it got them where they were going, and it definitely gave Brandon a power trip.
Rescuing a baby. Who’s ever heard of that? Maybe of rescuing an animal, but not a baby. There was a time this summer when Charlie and I had to rescue one of our calves. It was a hot, sunny day. We were on our way to the barn to get ready for the evening milking when we heard it, just like Jeffrey said he heard the crying—we heard the bleating. The calf’s cries for help came from the pasture. Charlie and I looked and saw the vultures circling out in the distance. They were closing in. We ran across the fields (the same fields some stranger had walked over). When we came over the knoll, we found our newest calf stuck in a mudhole. He must have been trying to cool off or get a drink. Now he couldn’t get out, and the more he fought, the deeper he sank. He was chest deep, and completely exhausted.
“We need the truck,” Charlie said. “You stay here while I go get it; otherwise those vultures will have his eyes pecked out before I get back.”
I tried to comfort the calf while Charlie was away, same as Jeffrey had tried to soothe the baby. It wasn’t easy, and it didn’t feel like it was working, but it was all I could do. When Charlie came back, he tied some rope to the rear of his truck. Then he laid some boards across the mud so he could walk out to the calf. He tied the other end of the rope around the little guy’s body. The boards also gave the calf something solid to walk on. Then Charlie told me to get in the truck and ease it forward. One of the things you get to do on farms is drive before you get a license. I had driven around the lots before, but I was nervous behind the wheel this time. I let off the pedal gently and cringed when I heard the calf bellowing behind me. But Charlie kept barking words of encouragement, so I inched forward little by little, and eventually we freed him. Back at the barn, we cleaned the calf and got him hydrated, just like the paramedics did with that baby.
We saved him. I can remember how I felt that afternoon—scared, nervous, worried, relieved. That calf, Rupert we named him, is my favorite. He made it. I hope that baby makes it. I can only imagine how Jeffrey must feel.
I told Grandma about the baby when I got home. I ended up telling everyone at dinner, but Grandma was the first person I saw when I got off the bus that day. And that story wasn’t the sort of thing I could keep to myself. I found Grandma on her hands and knees in the garden. She kept pulling weeds while I got all the words out. Then she sat up and wiped the sweat from her brow with her already dirty handkerchief. She’d been working all day. She and Grandpa never slowed down.
“Danielle, I don’t recall school bein’ so unbelievable when I was there. Course, not much about your school is like mine was, but still, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of children havin’ the kind of days you seem to have in that room with Mr. Terupt.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, this isn’t exactly the sort of stuff that happens in school—teachers almost dying and abandoned babies being rescued. Heck, I don’t remember much of anything from my schooling days, ’cept gettin’ rapped on the knuckles with a ruler when I didn’t do as I was told. I got to think the good Lord has something planned out for you kids in that classroom, ’cause these aren’t simple things you’re experiencin’.”
Mr. Terupt had said something similar. We’d been forced to grow up, and we were certainly a special group because of all we had gone through together. I figured if I could handle the truth about a little baby after watching him almost die, then I ought to be able to know about the man who walked across our fields. I told Grandma as much.
“Danielle, sometimes ignorance is bliss. Do you know what that means?”
“No, ma’am.”
“It means you get away without needing to worry so much when you don’t know or understand all the details about something. And that’s good, ’cause you don’t need to be worrying all the time. The adults can do that.”
“If I’m experiencing such grown-up things in school, I think I ought to be able to deal with them at home.” My voice rose more than I meant it to. “And besides,” I added, “I’m already worrying about it.”
&nbs
p; “Then stop,” Grandma demanded, the gentleness in her voice gone. She threw her weeds down and stood up. “There’s nothing you can do about it if I do tell ya, so I don’t see any point in tellin’ ya. And that’s the end of it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I didn’t like her answer one bit, but I didn’t talk back. I knew not to push Grandma’s buttons. She wasn’t going to bend—not today, anyway. I dropped my bag and got down on my hands and knees and started pulling some weeds. I yanked at the green shoots hard enough that my hands started to burn.
“Danielle,” Grandma said after some silent weeding. “How’s that baby doing?”
“I’m not sure.”
“We best pray for him tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And Jeffrey too,” Grandma said.
I nodded.
Dear God,
Jeffrey carried a baby into our classroom this morning. A baby that was thrown away. Dropped in the weeds and left there to die. Mr. Terupt did all he could to help, then the ambulance came and took the baby away. Please take care of him. Don’t let him die. Jeffrey was his savior, but I’m sure he needs your comfort now, too.
God, I’m not sure why such terrible things need to happen in this world. And at this point, I don’t think I’ll ever have an answer. But I do know that whoever threw a little baby away like that, must also really need your help. So I want to pray for those people, too. Please help them find the right path. Amen.
Oh, and one last thing. I’d still like it if you could help me find out the truth about that man who was in our fields this summer, but don’t tell Grandma. Thank you. Amen.
Terupt offered to take me to the hospital with him and Ms. Newberry the next day after school. He was going to check on the baby. Everyone wanted to know how he was doing, and I think Terupt sensed that I especially wanted to know. I couldn’t think about anything else. But I had to say “No thanks” to his offer. Hospitals still brought back too many bad memories for me, and I just knew that baby would have more tubes and machines hooked up to him than I could handle. I couldn’t do it.
After visiting, Terupt reported to our class that the baby was in intensive care. It’s a good thing I didn’t go with him, because intensive care means lots of tubes and machines. The baby was dehydrated to the point that his kidneys were having problems. He needed special monitoring, so it wasn’t a good time for visitors anyway.
Terupt kept in touch with the hospital so he could update us on the baby. I hated to think I was getting good at this hoping-for-people-in-hospitals-to-recover-and-not-die thing, but I sure felt like I’d done a lot of it. I didn’t stop doing it either. I hoped and hoped for that baby, and by the end of the month, things looked better for him. He had gained some weight, which I’d been told was a good sign for a newborn. Terupt told us that it looked like they’d be moving him to a local medical center soon. He said the doctors thought he’d be at the medical center while the search for his parents continued. The police still hadn’t found his mom and dad, and if that didn’t change, Terupt told us the baby might go up for adoption.
That was good news, but scary, too. Once I heard the word adoption, I was struck by an urgent need to see him.
october
I was the first one to submit a formal Westing Game solution. I remember the morning I figured it out. I was up early reading what Mr. Terupt had assigned when all of a sudden some of the author’s clues came together for me, and bam! I had it! I ran into Mom and Dad’s bedroom to celebrate.
“I’ve got it! I’ve got it! I’ve solved it!” I danced and jumped around while they burrowed under the covers, trying to sleep.
“Good. Great, Luke,” Dad said from under the blankets.
“We’re proud of you, honey,” Mom said, peeking out at me.
“Now let us sleep some more,” Dad added. He moaned and turned over.
I sat down at the kitchen table and wrote up my conclusion. I stuffed it in an envelope, sealed it, and signed my name across the back.
Detective Luke
I couldn’t wait to get to school that morning. I ran into our classroom and handed Mr. Terupt the envelope. Everyone was shocked.
“You’ve solved it already?” Mr. Terupt said, standing up from his chair, his eyes bugged out and eyebrows raised. He still hadn’t turned in a solution. Suddenly he wobbled a bit. He grabbed his desk and closed his eyes for a moment.
“Stood up too fast,” he said, after regaining his balance. Then he moved on like nothing had happened. “I’m impressed, especially since I’m not even close to a solution,” Mr. Terupt admitted. “But we still don’t know if you’re right.”
“Oh, I’m right,” I said.
“I only know of one person who’s ever cracked this case before the author reveals the truth, so if you’re right, you’ll join special company,” Mr. Terupt said.
“I’m right,” I said.
OBSERVATION
—Mr. Terupt has had two dizzy spells.
QUESTIONS
—Who’s the one person that cracked the case?
—Is Mr. Terupt okay?
Detective Luke
I read The Westing Game but never handed in a solution. It was part of my plan to have Mr. T fail me. But I wanted to read the book because I didn’t want to miss out. I liked it, a lot, but it’s not the story I remember most. It’s the drama around the book that’s stuck with me, like the day Mr. T turned in his solution.
Mr. T loved to scare the snot out of us whenever we were busy doing something. One time we were taking a timed test and he yelled out “TIME!” after the forty-five minutes were up. A few of us were so rattled we accidentally threw our pencils. Ben banged his legs on the underside of his desk, he jumped so bad. Mr. T laughed his head off, and we laughed with him. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he made his Westing Game announcement during silent reading time.
It was so quiet you’d definitely know where a fart came from if someone were to let one go, unless, of course, you were the evil Lexie. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Mr. T shouted, “THAT’S IT!” He successfully scared the snot out of us again.
“You might as well call it quits,” he announced. “I’ve got my solution right here and there’s no way I’m going to lose. I’ve solved it.”
“Too bad Luke’s already turned his in,” I said. “Looks like you’ll have to settle for second place.”
Luke didn’t say anything, but Mr. T made a grand production out of adding his envelope to the submission box. He flew it up and down like an airplane, sound effects included, before spinning around and slam-dunking it home.
We were supposed to go back to silent reading. I tried, but it was hard to settle down after Mr. T got us riled up like that. He made everything loads of fun.
FADE IN: LS of everyone sitting in their chairs. They’ve been arranged in a semicircle facing the front of the room, making it a stage area. Written on the board are the words Solution Opening Ceremony. MR. TERUPT carries a shoe box in his hands along with his copy of The Westing Game. The box holds our solutions.
JESSICA VO
There was nervous chatter among my classmates as Mr. Terupt approached with the solutions, except for me and Luke. We were the only ones not talking while we waited for Mr. Terupt to get ready. Luke was all business. We were anxious, in it together, and hoping to be the winner.
CUT TO: Days earlier in the classroom, during silent reading time. LUKE kneels next to JESSICA in a corner of the room where she’s working. THEY talk in hushed voices.
LUKE
How close are you?
JESSICA
I don’t know. I’m trying to be patient, hoping that something comes to me, but it’s not. I don’t know what I’m missing.
LUKE
I wasn’t patient. I rushed my solution because I was sure I had it solved, but now I know there’s more to it.
LUKE looks down at the floor.
LUKE
I want to tell you what I know, and see if it help
s you. Mr. Terupt said only one person has ever solved it, so I want to see if I can help you figure it out—it’s too late for me.
LUKE looks up and meets JESSICA’s smile.
CUT TO: Solution Opening Ceremony.
MR. TERUPT
Okay, gang. Here’s the deal. It’s time for us to finish this magnificent riddle. The recommender of this story did not lie—it’s a brilliant tale. After we’re finished I’ll take each solution out one at a time and read it aloud. The one that is most accurate and thorough will be considered the best, with any ties going to the earliest submission. Got it?
Students nod, books at the ready.
CUT TO: MR. TERUPT reading aloud the end of The Westing Game and the class following along in their copies. Signs of shock and disbelief are seen throughout the students. We see mouths agape and heads shaking. PETER smacks his forehead.
PETER
(excited, springing up in his seat)
Holy smokes! If anybody got that, then they’re wicked smart!
CUT TO: MEDIUM SHOT (MS) of MR. TERUPT. He starts pulling envelope after envelope from the box and reading the answers out loud. Then he gets to Luke’s and holds it up for the class to see. CLOSE-UP (CU) of the envelope. DETECTIVE LUKE is scrawled across the seal. MR. TERUPT opens it and reads LUKE’s solution aloud.
MR. TERUPT
(after whistling)
Very impressive, Luke. Your solution is certainly evidence of a detective in the making.
JEFFREY
Way to go, Lukester.
LUKE shrugs. Then he glances at JESSICA, who’s trying to be sneaky by not looking back at him.
JESSICA VO
I liked Mr. Terupt for praising Luke when he knew his own solution was better. But he hadn’t opened my envelope yet, and he didn’t know that Luke had a hand in that solution, too.
