by Renée Watson
Mr. Harvey hands out a sheet outlining our next unit. “So we’ve finished our unit on Body Systems. Today we’re starting a new unit, which is Growth and Development.” When he passes out the last sheet of paper, he walks back to the front of the room. “We’ll be discussing the different things you’ll feel in your body and in your emotions now that you’re a teen, and how to stay safe physically, mentally, and emotionally during adolescence.”
I know this is Mr. Harvey’s way of saying we’ll be talking about drugs and sex and making good decisions. Just when he starts talking about urges us young people might be starting to have, there is a loud noise in the hallway. A thumping. Someone yells, “Fight, fight!” and everyone in Mr. Harvey’s class runs into the hallway. We all form a semicircle, almost like we planned it. I am too short to see over the tall people.
Mr. Harvey is yelling. “All right, break it up. Break it up!” He pushes through us to get to the front of the circle.
I hear Maria’s voice screaming, “Ricky, stop! That’s enough. Danny, stop!”
I shove myself through the mob, and when I get to the front, I see Danny and Ricky kicking and punching some poor boy who is on the floor, bleeding from his nose and mouth. “Danny!”
Mr. Harvey, Principal Scott, and another teacher find a way to pull Ricky and Danny off the boy. Principal Scott yells at the rest of us, “Go back to class. Get back to class. Now!” Most of us don’t move. Everyone is talking about what they just saw. Giving each other play-by-plays. “Whoever does not return to class immediately will be getting a referral and be held in detention during tomorrow’s lunch.”
The group runs in separate directions and goes back to their classrooms. Maria and I follow Principal Scott. “Ladies, that means you too.”
“He’s my brother,” I say. I look at Danny, fighting to get out of the grip of Mr. Scott’s hold. Looking like Daddy did when the police came to arrest him the night the neighbors called. “He’s my brother.”
“Serenity, go back to class. I’m fine.” Danny won’t look me in the eye. He is breathing hard and there are a few scratches on his face. His shirt is torn at the neck.
“What happened?” I am running to keep up with them, following them to Principal Scott’s office.
We pass the nurse’s room on the way. The boy is there, holding a tissue to his nose. He yells out, “This ain’t over! This ain’t over!”
The nurse slams the door shut.
Principal Scott motions for Danny and Ricky to step into his office. He closes the door and turns to us. “You can wait out here. Serenity, please give Maggie the best number to call so we can arrange for your brother to be picked up. Maria, you need to get back to class.” He takes Danny and Ricky into his office.
Maria doesn’t move. I step up to Maggie’s desk. She is Principal Scott’s secretary. I give her the number to the church office. She calls and I hear her telling my grandpa that Danny was in a fight and I know that tonight is going to be a long night.
“You can go back to class now,” Maggie says.
“Come on, Maria. Let’s go.”
Maria follows me out of the office. Lisa and her shadows are walking toward us when we step into the hallway. Maria asks, “Do you guys know why Ricky and Danny were fighting?”
Lisa tells us everything. “That boy was, like, totally disrespecting Danny. He was saying all kinds of things.”
“What did he say?” Maria asks.
“Well—” Lisa looks at me. “He said he read in the paper that you and Danny were orphans.”
“We’re not orphans!” I am so mad I want to fight Lisa myself just for repeating it.
“That’s what the fight was about. Ricky was sticking up for you guys. Telling that boy that you had a family, that you, like, live with your grandparents or something. But the boy said that didn’t count. Orphans are kids who don’t have parents. And then your brother got all mad and told the boy to stop disrespecting him but the boy wouldn’t. I don’t remember what the boy said that made your brother hit him, but the next thing I knew they were beating him up and stuff.”
I can’t stand here and listen to any more. I am mad that someone was teasing my brother and mad that Lisa knows I don’t have parents. I am just mad about everything right now. Especially at what a hypocrite Lisa is. As she walks away with Sommer and Denise, she says, “I understand why Danny fought him. I mean, like, that boy has to learn that you have to give respect to get it. You know?”
THIS DAY
• • • • • • • • • • •
Serenity Evans
Mrs. Ross, 1st Period
Poetry Workshop
Metaphor: a comparison without using like or as: He is a big mean bear.
Write a metaphor describing someone you know.
Jay is the sun that shines
on a day when the weatherman forecasted rain.
He is a breeze blowing on a hot, humid day.
He is a mystery book
with an unexpected twist at the end.
Grandpa and Grandma can’t come to get us after school today because Grandpa has a doctor appointment. I don’t bother to wash off my makeup after school. Maria gave me a new color to try and it looks good on me. I don’t want to take it off yet.
Before we left for school this morning, Grandma told me, “I’m trusting you to get home safe and on time, okay?” This is Danny’s first day back at school since the fight. He was suspended for three days. He’s on punishment for the rest of the month: no video games, no television, double chore duty.
I promise Grandma that I will look out for Danny and he promises not to give me a hard time. Maria is not in school today. I miss her all day long. I sit with Karen and Sabrina at lunchtime, but it’s just not the same. At the end of the day, on my way to meet Danny at the flagpole, Jay walks up from behind me. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” he says.
I slow down and we walk together outside. “I’ve been here at school. Where have you been?”
“Takin’ care of some things.” He is so fine. He looks even better because I haven’t seen him in a few days. “Can I walk you home? You still owe me.”
“You can walk me and Danny home,” I say.
When we get outside, Ricky and Danny are standing under the flag talking. “What’s up?” Jay says to both of them.
“Hey, Jay. Hi, Serenity,” Ricky says. I haven’t seen Ricky all week because he was suspended too.
I thank him for sticking up for my family and we all start walking. Ricky only lives a few blocks from us so we are walking the same way. Usually he spends time with Maria after school, but since she’s not here today, he’s with us. He walks beside Danny, and I am glad Danny has a good friend. Ricky is like a brother. Especially since the fight. Everyone knows it too. You mess with Danny, you’ll have to deal with Ricky. You mess with Ricky, you’ll have to deal with Danny.
Jay is walking close to me. Our bodies sometimes brush against each other when we walk through tight spaces, so I scoot over to give him more room. Danny and Ricky are ahead of us. They’re having their own conversation. Ricky’s bragging about how he played video games the whole time he was suspended and how he watched movies and ate junk food all day while his mom was at work.
Danny is in awe. “What? My grandfather had me doing all kinds of stuff. I had to rake the leaves from off the sidewalk and in the backyard.”
“Man,” Ricky sighs. Like Danny has it so tough.
“But that’s not all,” Danny adds. “I had to go to the church to clean the bathrooms and vacuum the sanctuary.”
“That’s crazy, man. I can’t believe he had you doin’ all that.”
“And when I was done with that, he just made up stuff for me to do.”
“Like what?” Ricky asks.
“Like shredding papers, doing inventory on how many Bibles and hymnals we have in the pews.”
“Man, Pastor James don’t mess around, huh?”
“He’s real strict,” Danny
says. “My grandmother is too.”
“I always wondered what it would be like being a PK.”
Danny switches his backpack to his left shoulder. “It sucks. It’s even worse being the brother of a goody-two-shoes.” He turns around and gives me a look.
“Shut up, Danny!”
“Make me!”
I run up and hit him in his arm.
“I was just messin’ with you!” Danny says. But I don’t believe him.
Ricky is laughing. Jay slows his pace down and takes my hand. “Don’t let him get you mad.”
“I’m not thinking about him,” I say. How can I now that Jay is touching me? Our fingers lock into one another’s like two puzzle pieces. I don’t let go.
We fall way behind Danny and Ricky and it’s too hard to hear what else they are saying. I am uncomfortable walking in silence with Jay so I try to start up our own conversation. “So when are you going to start coming to church?” I ask. It’s the only thing I can think of. Maria would probably be real disappointed in this. I can just hear her say, “Of all the questions to ask him, you asked him that?”
“I don’t know,” Jay answers. “I liked the camp thing we went to. I might come one day.”
I tell him about our Rites of Passage ceremony. “You have to come to that. Maria and I will be speaking. And Maria’s going to sing a solo.”
We keep walking, and the closer we get to my house, the more I want to slow down. We get to Ricky’s corner and he says good-bye. After two more blocks, we are at my house.
“All right, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Danny goes into the house. I stay outside with Jay. I know Danny is going to make a big deal out of this when I get inside.
Jay pulls his cell phone out and checks the time. I snatch it from him. “What do you need a phone for?”
“So I can call you,” Jay answers.
“Whatever.” I sit down on the top stair of the porch. Jay sits next to me.
“I’m serious. Can I call you tonight?”
I try to think of something clever to say, something to make it seem like I’m playing hard to get, but the truth is the only thing I can think of. “I’m not allowed to have boys call the house for me,” I say. Maria isn’t going to believe I actually told him this.
Jay looks at me. His eyes are so brown, so perfectly brown, they are looking at me and I want to melt because I have never been looked at like this. “Okay. I don’t want you gettin’ in trouble.” Jay steps off the porch.
What would Maria do? “But you can give me your number and I’ll call you,” I say.
Jay smiles.
I take my notebook out of my backpack and tear out a sheet of paper. I hand it to him with a pen. Jay writes his number down and gives the paper back to me. “Thanks for letting me walk you home,” he says.
“Thanks for walking me.” I give Jay a hug. I want to stay in his arms, have him hold me tight.
He lets go. “See you later,” he says.
My legs feel like they might not be able to hold me up much longer. I sit back down on the porch and watch him walk away.
Once night comes and everyone is asleep, I sneak the cordless phone in my room and call Jay. He talks to me for hours and no matter how strong my eyes burn or how many times I yawn, I stay on the phone. I could listen to Jay’s deep voice all night long.
OUR DAILY BREAD
• • • • • • • • • • •
Serenity Evans
Mrs. Ross, 1st Period
Poetry Workshop
Hyperbole: An exaggeration. Thanksgiving hyperboles
1. The turkey in the school’s cafeteria was so hard, I couldn’t cut through it with a jackhammer.
2. Grandma cooked so much food, we’ll be eating leftovers for the rest of our lives.
3. It rained so hard on Thanksgiving Day, I thought Noah was going to float by in his ark.
The shelter is full today, as usual. Before anyone can eat, they have to attend a short worship service upstairs in the sanctuary. Grandpa ends in prayer and sends the homeless downstairs.
Grandma and I are waiting in the kitchen. I am helping serve today because I want to start collecting hours toward my community service goal for the Rites of Passage requirements. My other community service project is designing holiday cards to give away to people at the shelter when we serve them on Christmas Eve.
A woman comes up to the table dressed in a dingy white dress. She has on sandals, but the left shoe has a broken strap. “Who we got here, Mrs. Claire? You done hired you some help, I see.” The woman holds out her plate. I am serving the meat. I give her one slice of turkey and a slice of ham. Karen and Sabrina are serving the side dishes. They scoop out big helpings of stuffing, macaroni and cheese, and string beans.
“That there is my grandbaby. She’ll be coming once a week in the evenings now.” Grandma sounds happy, like she’s been wanting me to come all along. “Introduce yourself, baby.” She looks at me.
“Hi, my name is Serenity. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too. I’m Thelma,” the woman says. “And who are these two young ladies?” Karen and Sabrina say their names at the same time and start laughing at how they just jinxed each other. Ms. Thelma holds her plate out to Karen and Sabrina, grabs a napkin, walks away, and sits at the table closest to the assembly line. When she takes a bite of her food she shouts, “Mrs. Claire, you a saint. You know what them other places be servin’ us?”
A man in a green shirt and torn shorts blurts out, “Mush!”
Someone else adds, “They call it soup.”
“Ain’t fit to feed a dog,” Ms. Thelma says. “We appreciate you, Mrs. Claire. Thank you.”
Grandma says, “I guess I just don’t know how to cook no other way. I’m just doing what I know how to do.” Grandma doesn’t like people to fuss over her. She always gives the glory back to God. People ask her all the time how she gets the money to feed people all this good food. Grandma always tells them, “The Lord provides.” But I know that besides the benevolent offerings at church, and the donations from local stores, Grandma pays for a lot of it out of her own pockets. She changes the subject away from herself and asks the people at the table, “Have you all signed up for our transitions class?”
“Sure have!” The man in green holds up his brochure. Our church has a ministry called Transitions. It’s to help the homeless get back on their feet.
The line is steady coming for almost two hours and then it slows down. I look out at the crowd. There are three young girls sitting with a woman who has a black eye. “Stop staring,” my grandma says to Karen and Sabrina. Grandma hands Karen a tray of small bowls filled with banana pudding. “Pass these out, please.”
After dessert is served and everyone leaves, I help Karen and Sabrina clean up. They wipe the tables, I sweep. “It was kind of sad seeing all those people today,” Karen says.
Sabrina agrees. “I know. Especially the mothers and children.”
“I wonder where their fathers were,” Karen asks.
I sweep the last bit of dust in the dustpan. “Maybe they don’t have fathers.”
“Everyone has a father,” Karen and Sabrina say at the same time. They laugh. “We jinxed each other again!” They can’t stop laughing.
I don’t say anything. I just watch them laugh and I sit down in one of the metal folding chairs. Karen and Sabrina don’t understand what it’s like to have parents who don’t know how to be a mother or a father. Their parents are married and their dads and moms come to all their school performances. When our class went on a field trip to a museum downtown, Karen’s and Sabrina’s dads chaperoned. I told Ann about them and how I think it’s not fair that God would give me a horrible dad but give them good ones.
Grandpa comes to pick us up from the church. On our way home we stop at Ricky’s house to get Danny. He spent the night over there after hours of begging and pleading. “Serenity, go ring the doorbell and let him know it’s time to go,” Grandpa says.
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“Okay.” I open the door.
“And thank Ricky’s mom for me, please,” Grandma says.
I run up the grass to Ricky’s house and ring the doorbell. Ricky’s younger sister opens the door. She’s seven years old and she always says my name wrong. “Hi, Ren-i-ty.”
“Hey, Cocoa. I’m here for my brother.”
“He’s gone with Ricky.”
“Gone where?”
She shrugs.
“Where’s your mom?”
“In Seattle.”
“What do you mean, she’s in Seattle?”
“She’s with her boyfriend in Seattle,” Cocoa says. “But Tasha is here,” she tells me.
Tasha is Ricky’s sixteen-year-old sister. Cocoa knocks on Tasha’s bedroom door. Tasha comes out, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “Hey, Serenity. What’s up?”
“I’m looking for my brother.”
“He’s not here? I thought he was in Ricky’s room.”
“Ricky’s not here either,” I tell her.
“What?” Tasha goes to Ricky’s room and opens the door.
“I’ll be back,” I tell Tasha and Cocoa. I know my grandparents are going to ground Danny for the rest of his life. I walk back to the car, and before I reach it, Grandma is rolling down the window. “Um, Danny and Ricky aren’t here right now,” I tell her.
Grandpa says, “Did Ricky’s mom say where they went?”
“Um, Ricky’s mom isn’t here either.” I could’ve lied, but I don’t want to get in trouble. “I can call Maria. Maybe they’re over there.”
Grandpa turns off the car and tells me to go call. Grandma gets out of the car and comes in the house to speak with Tasha. While they talk, I call Maria. Her mother picks up. “Hi, Isabel. This is Serenity.”
“Serenity? I haven’t seen you since the party. Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t,” I say. “Is Maria home?”
“No. Not right now. She went out with ah, oh, what’s that girl’s name? I can’t remember.” Isabel thinks for a moment—“Linda?”
