“What are the rocks for?” asked Rico.
“I call them the Seven Special Stones of the Sun,” replied Ziggy mysteriously as he held the rocks in his hand for Rico to see.
“Why do you call them that? What makes them so special?”
“My grandmother gave them to me, mon. She brought them all the way from Jamaica. She told me they would bring me good luck.”
“They look like ordinary rocks to me,” Rico said with doubt.
“Well, that just shows how much you know, mon,” Ziggy said as he rolled the stones in his palm. He looked thoughtful, then asked, “Can you keep a secret, Rico?”
“Sure,” replied Rico, who never knew what Ziggy would do or say.
“These stones…” Ziggy paused for a moment. He looked around to make sure no one was listening. His voice dropped to a whisper. “These stones keep away ghosts!”
“Ghosts?” Rico laughed nervously. “There are no ghosts around here!”
“See how well the stones are working, mon?” Ziggy replied with glee. Rico laughed again, shaking his head at his friend. Ziggy plopped the stones back into his book bag.
Just then a gust of wind blew through the schoolyard and across the steps. The pages of Ziggy’s red notebook fluttered and gently released the one sheet of paper that had been tucked inside. Ziggy’s large, round handwriting boldly filled both sides of the paper.
Ziggy grabbed it triumphantly. “I found it, mon! Let the bells ring and the school day begin!”
The early bell seemed to hear him, for the signal to go into the building sounded just as he spoke. Ziggy stuffed the rest of his things back into his bag, tossed it over his shoulder, and called to Rico, who never ceased to be amazed at Ziggy, “Let’s go, mon. We’ll be late!”
Their school building was very old. It had five floors, with a large marble staircase leading from the front door on the main floor to the upper floors. The long, dark hallways were shiny with wax and worn by footsteps.
As Rico and Ziggy reached their lockers on the third floor, they saw Rashawn and Jerome sitting on the linoleum waiting for them.
“What’s up?” asked Rashawn, yawning. He uncurled his long legs, stood up, and stretched. He had grown taller during the long summer vacation and was proud that his size-ten shoes were the biggest of all his friends’. Lots of people said he looked like a basketball star. He liked that.
“Nothin’ much,” replied Rico. “Ziggy was having a homework attack, but he found it.”
“So what else is new?” asked Jerome. “Ziggy loses his homework every day.”
“It’s not always my fault,” replied Ziggy cheerfully. “Monday it was the jelly’s fault, Tuesday it was my mum’s fault, and Wednesday it was my new kitten’s fault!”
“How do you figure?” asked Rico.
“It’s simple, mon. Somehow, when I made my bologna and jelly sandwich on Monday, the jelly jumped up, landed on my math homework, and made my paper stick to the bottom of my book bag! The next day, my mum washed my favorite blue jeans with my science homework in the back pocket.”
“I know you’re gonna tell us,” said Jerome with a grin, “but how did the kitten lose your homework?”
“She didn’t lose it, mon—she attacked it!”
“What?”
“There’s a reason I named that crazy kitten Jungle Kitty. She runs around the house acting like she’s a lion or tiger, and attacking dangerous creatures like shoes and pieces of paper.”
“What if she saw a mouse?” asked Rashawn.
“She’d probably run the other way, mon,” Ziggy said, laughing. “But she really had fun beating up my homework paper that night!”
“Did Jungle Kitty get last night’s history homework too?” Jerome asked.
“No way, mon. This one was too important. It tried to hide from me, but I knew where it was all the time. There’s no way I’m gonna miss that field trip!”
Mrs. Powell, their teacher, was taking them on an all-day field trip to the Ohio River. Only the students who turned in their homework would be allowed to go, so Ziggy and the rest of the class had been extra careful to have it ready.
Jerome was shorter than Rashawn, but was strong and tough-looking. His face was brown and leathery, like the bomber jacket he wore every day.
He checked his book bag for his homework, and grinned at the other boys. “This is gonna be an awesome field trip—lunch on the riverbank and a boat ride!”
“You got that right,” replied Rico. He was neatly dressed in dark blue pants and a light blue shirt. His coffee-colored, smiling face was surrounded by thick, curly brown hair. His book bag, unlike the other boys’, was neat and organized. His history homework was always in his green history folder, and his math homework was always in his blue math folder. He liked to draw pictures of houses and kept those drawings in a special red folder—he said one day he’d like to be an architect.
Mrs. Powell came around the corner just as the bell rang to begin class, jiggling keys and balancing a coffee cup on a large stack of papers.
“Looks like I made it just in time,” she called out cheerfully. “I was making last-minute plans for our trip,” she explained as she unlocked the classroom door. “Now where did he go? He was right behind me.”
“Who?” asked Jerome.
“Oh, there he is! Come on in, Mr. Greene. Welcome to our classroom.”
Mr. Greene walked slowly around the corner. He was almost bald, with wisps of curly, gray hair, and golden copper, slightly wrinkled skin. His dark eyes twinkled as he saw Rico, Rashawn, Jerome, and Ziggy standing in the hallway, staring in surprise.
“Well, if it isn’t the Black Dinosaurs!” said Mr. Greene with a chuckle. “Good to see you again!”
The Buried Bones Mystery Page 5
