by Rob Buyea
CUT TO: CU of the next envelope. We see MR. TERUPT’s name. He opens it and reads his solution to a silent audience.
MR. TERUPT
(flexing his muscles)
It seems I was right, Peter. I’m sorry, but my solution happens to be the best.
LUKE
(raising his finger in the air)
Not so fast. Let’s not forget, we still have Jessica’s.
There is wild cheering now. A chant begins.
CLASS
Jessica … Jessica … Jessica …
CUT TO: CU of MR. TERUPT smiling. Pull back as he opens the last envelope—JESSICAS’s—and reads her solution.
JESSICA VO
I shouldn’t have been surprised when Luke offered to help. He was the one who let me borrow snow pants last winter, on the day of the accident. He did his best to help Mr. Terupt when he fell in the snow. And on that final day in the Collaborative Classroom, Luke and James helped all of us tell Peter the accident wasn’t only his fault. Luke was someone you could count on—he’d be there for you.
MR. TERUPT looks up after finishing JESSICA’s solution.
MR. TERUPT
Well, there’s no doubt about it. We’ve found our winner. Congratulations, Jessica. Come on up here and get your award.
CUT TO: Everyone cheering. JESSICA stands and walks over to LUKE. They slap each other five. Then JESSICA walks up to MR. TERUPT.
MR. TERUPT
(to the class)
I present to you our winner of the Westing Game Competition, Miss Jessica. Her award is a gift card to Snow Hill Bookshop.
More cheering from the class.
JESSICA
(still onstage, facing Mr. Terupt)
Mr. Terupt, you taught us that we do better when we stick together. And, well, I couldn’t have won the competition without Luke’s help. He deserves this award as much as I do.
MR. TERUPT
(to all)
It takes a special person to admit that, Jessica. And it takes a special person to help out a friend. Luke, please come up here and receive your gift card. I just happen to have one for you.
LUKE stands and walks to the front, joining JESSICA. MR. TERUPT hands him the gift card, then sweeps his arm in a gesture to present the winners. There is a standing ovation. LUKE and JESSICA shake hands.
CUT TO: Class back in their seats and MR. TERUPT still standing at the stage area. LUKE raises his hand.
MR. TERUPT
Yes, Luke.
LUKE
Who was the one person to actually solve the mystery before the book revealed it?
MR. TERUPT
Ah, yes. The recommender of this book was also the person who solved it—my mother.
FADE OUT.
JESSICA VO
Luke and I came close with our solution. It may have been the best in the class, but we still didn’t have it completely figured out. There was more to Sam Westing than we had realized. We didn’t really know him—just like we didn’t really know our teacher. Mr. Terupt was our very own Sam Westing, and my desire to find out more about him was stronger now than ever.
After we wrapped up the Solution Opening Ceremony, Mr. T asked his book team (me and Anna) to return the books to the library. It was the perfect opportunity to try my stacking method again.
“Peter, just let me carry some,” Anna insisted.
“No,” I said. I was determined to show her I could do it. “I’ve got it this time. Just lead the way so I don’t run into anything.” That’s the only thing I was worried about.
I held a forty-book tower. That was more copies of The Westing Game than we needed, but we had extras so we could keep one at home, plus I had a few library books that needed returning. I pressed my hands on the ends of the stack, leaving myself wide open. I started to follow Anna. I had everything under control until Jeffrey decided it was time to get even. He shot me in the front of my pants with several water blasts from the lizards’ spray bottle.
“Hey!” I yelled.
Anna gasped.
“What’s wrong?” Mr. T wanted to know.
“Nothing,” I said. “We’re all set.” I didn’t want to turn around so everyone could see my wet private area.
“Told you to grow eyes in the back of your head,” Jeffrey whispered. “Now we’re even.”
He went back to spraying the bog and I followed Anna out of the classroom. Now I was even more determined to succeed with my book tower. My wet pants had to be worth something.
I repositioned the books so I had one hand by my chin and the other down below my belt. It was easier for me to see, and I felt in control. Plus, I had myself protected now.
“I knew I could do it,” I said.
“We’re not there yet,” Anna said. “Don’t jinx yourself.”
I was hurrying as fast as I could because I wanted to get to the library before anything bad happened.
“Walk!” Mrs. Williams’s voice scared me worse than Mr. T’s stunt during silent reading. My tower of books shot out all over the place and then this little twerp came flying by us down the hall.
“Oh, Peter. I’m sorry,” Mrs. Williams said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was trying to get that kindergartner to stop running.” She bent down to pick up some of the books. “Oh, heavens!” she said as she spotted my overly wet pants. “I’m really very sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”
Great, I thought. Mrs. Williams thinks I wet myself out of fright. Just what I wanted.
Anna started turning red from holding her breath. I could tell she was about to lose it and sure enough she burst out laughing. It was ridiculous.
I picked up a pile of books and carried them into the library. I didn’t even bother trying another tower. I left the rest for Anna. I just needed to get out of there.
We had just finished our work with The Westing Game when Mr. Terupt introduced our next major task. October was a month for surprises.
“Research, gang. I think it’s time we tackle a research project,” he said, standing at the front of the room.
I liked it. But what would I research?
“What do you mean, project?” Tommy asked.
“Well, instead of simply writing papers, I thought we’d try developing PowerPoint presentations. We can share them with each other, and maybe some other people too.”
Awesome! Classic Mr. Terupt.
Everyone got excited and started talking about ideas, so I’m not sure if anyone else saw his spell. Mr. Terupt closed his eyes and leaned on the front table until he felt steady again. Then he continued—as if nothing had happened.
“You can choose to work alone or with a partner,” Mr. Terupt said. He went on to explain more, but my wheels were already spinning.
I was eager to get started right away with this new project, and I knew exactly what my topic would be. Mr. Terupt’s bouts of dizziness and light-headedness were bugging me. I didn’t like that he was having them. I wasn’t sure if there was anything to these observations or not, so that’s why I decided to research post–head trauma complications and side effects. I needed to make sure Mr. Terupt was okay.
QUESTION
—Is there a link, between Mr. Terupt’s spells and his head trauma?
Detective Luke
Like, Jessica didn’t give me much time to think about that research thing. She asked me if I wanted to be her partner that very day. Like I’d ever say no to her when it came to working on a project.
“Lexie, I’ve got a great idea for the research project. Want to do it with me?”
We were sitting at a table in the caf eating our lunches. Danielle and Anna were sitting with us, but they were busy talking about something else. Maybe that was why Jessica asked me—’cause I was just chillin’.
“What’s your idea?” I asked her.
“I want to research making movies.”
Like, what was I supposed to say? I didn’t know anything about making movies, so I was quiet. I think Jessi
ca thought my silence meant that, like, I wasn’t excited about her idea.
“It’ll be great! You can focus on costume and wardrobe design,” Jessica said. “You can even dress up as a fancy actress for our presentation.”
I raised my eyebrows. That was sounding better. Jessica could tell I was warming to the idea. She smiled.
Basically, I wanted to stick with Jessica for a partner. I knew she’d do all sorts of research, and I could just sort of tag along. I wasn’t exactly using her. It wasn’t like I wanted her to do all the work, but she wouldn’t care. And I had other things to worry about, like getting to the hangout after school. I thought about that all the time.
“Hey, Little Brat. Good to see ya, girl,” Reena said when I walked into the back room of the abandoned house that afternoon. She always greeted me like that.
“Have we got a surprise for you today!” Lisa said.
They must not have had a lot of homework. Usually I like surprises, but I was nervous about this one. I should have seen that as a warning sign.
“Enough of the cutesy animal stuff and pretty pink hearts, Little Brat. We’re gonna make a woman out of you,” Reena said.
Suddenly, I felt like their little project, but I went along with them—again. Lisa and Reena had all sorts of hand-me-down clothes and accessories for me. I love clothes, so I stopped feeling nervous. I thought of it as my wardrobe research. They helped me pick out an outfit and I hurried into one of the other rooms and tried it on.
“Now, that’s hot,” Lisa said, pointing to me when I came back in. I was wearing black yoga pants and a camouflage top. I used a matching camo scrunchie to hold back my hair.
“That’s fresh,” Reena said. “Camo’s hot.”
“You look older now,” Lisa said.
I smiled. I did feel older in the clothes, and hanging out with Lisa and Reena. How couldn’t I feel that way after going to school with Boy Scout Luke? He’d actually worn his Boy Scout shirt to school that day—the dork! If anyone needed wardrobe help, it was Luke. But I was the one who knew how to appreciate these clothes.
“I thought you meant she looked hot for real,” Brandon said as he walked in and plunked down on the sofa.
What was he doing here? Why wasn’t he at football practice?
“You know, after all that pedaling,” he said. “Here, have a drink, Lex.” He handed me his bottled water. That was when I noticed his other arm in a cast.
“What happened?” I said.
“Broke it during our last game. I’ve got a metal plate and eight screws in there now.” He paused. “That means no more football,” he said with his voice lowered, “and kiss wrestling season good-bye too.” Brandon shook his head. “It really sucks. But, hey, guess I can party it up now. So take a drink, little Lexie!”
I was hot for real. Plus, I felt bad for Brandon. I didn’t know what to say or do, so I took a big gulp from his bottle—and spit the firewater all over the room. If I thought my chest burned after my first cigarette, let me tell you, I was wrong. My mouth and throat were torched from that swallow. Brandon was practically rolling around on the floor he was laughing so hard. He reminded me of Peter after he hit me with that flying cardboard square the day we were counting blades of grass with Teach. Like Peter, Brandon thought he was sooo funny.
“That was mean, Brandon,” Lisa said.
“But funny,” he said.
“What is that!” I yelled.
“Vodka,” Brandon said. “Teachers think they’re so smart, but they’re so easy to trick. All I do is put vodka in a water bottle and I can go all day without them even knowing what I’m really drinking. Fools!”
Not Teach, I thought. You couldn’t fool him. Thinking of Teach suddenly made me feel uneasy.
“Well, like, I can’t stay today,” I lied. “My mom is gonna be home early, so I need to get going.”
“What are you talking about!” Brandon demanded. He punched the sofa, got up, and started pacing. “You don’t need to go anywhere. It’s party time.”
He was mad all of a sudden. And I was scared. His temper reminded me of my dad’s.
“Let her go,” Lisa said.
Brandon spun to face Lisa, and I quickly made my move to leave.
“Shut up!” I heard him yelling.
I ran outside, jumped on my bike, and pedaled as fast as I could to get away from the hangout. Behind me, I heard Brandon’s car start up. I got off the road and hid. When I looked back, I saw the dust flying from his famous fishtail exit as he sped away in the other direction.
I had a hard time thinking about anything other than that man in our fields. Grandma told me ignorance is bliss, but that didn’t stop me from worrying. I already knew too much. I saw how upset my family was that night in the kitchen. I saw how stressed my grandpa continued to be. And I saw my grandmother’s growing concern over my stressed-out grandfather. Grandpa didn’t have time for small talk at the dinner table anymore. He talked less and less, and seemed to be looking out the window more and more—looking for that man in our fields, I knew. There was silent talk between Mom and Grandma, their eyes darting back and forth across the table. And I was supposed to be ignorant? Not a chance.
I read The Westing Game like Mr. Terupt wanted, but I just didn’t have the mind energy to try and solve the mystery like he had hoped. And I couldn’t come up with something for the new PowerPoint project. I wanted to research an answer about the man in our fields, but I didn’t know what question to ask in order to get a presentation out of that. So I was topicless, but I wasn’t the only one. Peter was without a topic too. Mr. Terupt pulled us aside one day and asked us what we thought about researching drugs.
“What do you mean, drugs?” I asked.
“I mean the bad ones,” Mr. Terupt said. “The ones you hear about in the news, and will hear about all too soon in school. The ones you and your friends might be asked to try someday.”
Peter and I were quiet. What did Mr. Terupt mean, “asked to try”? I wasn’t ever going to do any drugs. I didn’t even know what that meant, but I knew it was bad. And that was when I realized I didn’t know much of anything about drugs. I was beginning to understand why Mr. Terupt thought it could be a good topic.
“You want us to learn about some of the bad drugs, what they could do to us, and … what else?” I said.
“Well, first I just wanted to see what you thought about the topic,” Mr. Terupt said. “If you’re okay with it, I’ll let you get started. Then I’ll check back with you after you’ve done some work, and I’ll help you get more focused with your research.”
I looked at Peter and all he did was shrug, so I said, “Okay, we’ll do it.”
“Great,” Mr. Terupt said. “Snow Hill School doesn’t have a formal drug education program like D.A.R.E., so I know we’ll learn a lot from you guys. And it’s going to be really important.”
“Look, Danielle,” Peter said when Mr. Terupt walked away. “I’ll help you with the research because I’ll feel bad if I make you do all of it alone, but I can’t help you with the actual PowerPoint stuff.”
“Why not?”
“I just can’t.”
“What if I tell Mr. Terupt?” I said. I wasn’t really going to be a tattletale, but I threatened it anyway.
Peter started to say something, but then stopped. He was thinking. Then he surprised me. “Go right ahead,” he said. “Tell him.”
Peter did just what he said he’d do. He helped gather information, and he did zero work on the computer. But I didn’t rat on him. I didn’t have to. Mr. Terupt knew something was up. He told me so.
Dear God,
Ignorance might be bliss, but I’m not ignorant about that man in our fields. I’m even worrying about him, despite Grandma’s wishes. I pray you can help me get some answers, and I pray for Grandpa, who looks too stressed these days. Please provide comfort for my family. And God, I think you should check in on Peter. I’m not sure what he’s up to, but he might need some guidance. Amen.
>
I can tell you this. When you rescue a baby from a shoe box, it’s not something you forget. And when you go home every day to a house that’s silent, you have even more time to think about the baby you saved.
“Have you come up with anything yet?” Terupt asked me one day in the library. We were down there for our research projects, either getting books for the topic we were going to research or, in my case, looking at books to try and come up with a topic.
“No,” I said.
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh, come on!” Terupt said. “What’s on your mind? There must be something you’re thinking about these days.”
He knew exactly what that something was.
Once the baby was moved from the hospital to the center in New Haven, I started going to see him. The building was huge. It stretched out in all different directions, a lot like our school. It was a place for physical and occupational therapy and rehabilitation. I wasn’t exactly sure what all that meant, but the entire complex was called Center for Love and Care.
It was a downhill ride from our school into New Haven. Biking there was smooth sailing, but coming back wasn’t so easy. I didn’t let that stop me, though—I still went. I had to see him.
The nurses in the center named him Asher. I liked it. They picked the name because it meant lucky. I wasn’t sure how lucky the little guy really was, though. Officer Stoneley still had no leads about the mother or father. The investigation remained open, but not hopeful. I also knew having a mother and father didn’t automatically make everything perfect, either.
“What is it, Jeffrey?” Mr. Terupt asked. “Or should I say, who is it?”
“Asher,” I said. “I think about him all the time. There. Are you happy now?” I shoved the book I was holding back onto the shelf. “And there’s no way for me to research him, is there?”
“Don’t get upset, Jeffrey. I know he’s on your mind. He’s on all our minds,” Terupt said. “So how do you make him work for the project?”
