No One Will Ever Find Out

by EA Young

Chapter 7

  Friday was report card night.

  I was so excited; I just couldn’t wait. After everything else that happened to me in the last few days, why not throw this in?

  That F on my math test weighed heavy on my brain as we rode away from Grandma’s house where we picked up Terence, Tyrone, Kriston, and Terell. It seemed to be my only existing thought.

  What happened during the school year? How come I didn’t know anything?

  Nervously I felt around my wrist for my key holder. It wasn’t there! I searched my pockets and suddenly remembered leaving it at home in my backpack. I didn’t need the keys now. I clasped my hands together and pressed them against my stomach to stop it from quivering.

  The sermon Father Farrin had given at mass a few days before filled my night with fear. I felt his words crowd in on me, making my skin feel as stiff as cardboard. If I kept perfectly still, maybe everybody would forget I was in the van. Then, I could hide until report card night was over.

  This trip was worse than a ride in Cheri’s elevators. At least while in Cheri’s building I knew where I was headed, either up or down. On report card night, I didn’t know what to expect.

  I leaned my head against the backseat window and looked up. It was dark and gloomy out there; the sun’s glow was fading behind the distant trees and houses. The cool night winds wailed all around, making the tip of my ears sting.

  Everything the nuns had said was true: There was a hell, and I was heading directly toward it.

  Riding back through Alexandria, Pop drove down a narrow steep-sided road that we’d never ridden on before. Usually he took the highway home from Grandma’s house. But this time we were going straight to D.C.

  Monster-like trees stretched twisted branches over our van on the left, turning the road into a dark tunnel. I stared down the side of the cliff dropping down on our right, and then I gripped the armrest. I couldn’t see the lowland through all the rocks and trees. The edge was too near. The only thing that held us up was the narrow road. How long would the road hold out? What if the wheels shifted and we fell in?

  If I leaned over an inch, I might cause the whole van to plunge. Frozen in my seat, I tightened my grip on the armrest. I felt like nothing was supporting me anymore, not even the ground.

  Suddenly the van swerved to the left, away from the cliff, and I felt a ball of air swerve inside my stomach. I looked up and saw the wide highway in front of us.

  Pop drove onto the highway and soon crossed the Williams Memorial Bridge. Streetlights sped by like bright balls of fire. A few cars were traveling in the same gloomy direction. Was anybody else riding in a car feeling the same way I was?

  I glanced at my brothers’ blank faces. Terell had both palms pressed together and kept watching the ceiling, almost like he was praying.

  “Why’re you all so quiet?” Pop suddenly asked. We jolted as if a bolt of electricity had shot through us all.

  Nobody answered and he didn’t bother to ask again. Mom wasn’t feeling good so she had stayed home. She said she’d get the rest of the bad news when we got back. I didn’t understand what she meant by “the rest of the bad news.” Ever since she had gotten that letter Wednesday, she acted strange and wouldn’t say what was wrong. She wouldn’t show the letter to anybody either.

  Terence, Tyrone, Kriston, and Terell had gone to Grandma’s right after school and stayed there until it was too late for them to come home by themselves. They had never done anything like that before.

  Pop had told Grandma that he would pick them up on our way to school this evening. I didn’t know what they were doing all that time at Grandma’s house and I didn’t care.

  We followed one car off the highway in D.C. and went down a narrow street. I wished we could have stayed on the highway with the other cars. I bet they weren’t worried about where they were going.

  Pop rounded a corner and suddenly the church was in sight. For a moment, I thought that it looked like a large Christmas tree ornament. Then, I remembered why we were there.

  My heart pounded. I was sure everyone in the van could hear it.

  Lights brightened the upstairs classrooms. Somewhere in that solid brick building, inside a teacher’s hand, was my report card, and soon it would be in my father’s grip.

  What could I do? Where could I run?

  The school was my enemy and I could prove it. For instance, every time we went somewhere it took a century for Pop to find a place to park the van. However, on report card night, directly in front of the building there was an empty parking space, waiting.

  Pop backed the van in. He shifted the gear handle and removed the ignition key. “Let’s go,” he said, and I watched him climb out from the driver’s side and into the dark night of frightening happenings.

  I gripped the collar of my blouse and crawled out the other side, behind my brothers.

  We followed a small group of third graders quietly leading their parents into the building as if it were a regular school day. I felt like I was on my way to my own funeral. My legs shivered climbing the steps.

  A little boy held the door open for us. He turned back and looked up at the size of Pop and his eyes widened. Pop smiled down at him, but the little boy hurried to catch up with his parents.

  As I walked in, I wondered: What did they have? The smart kids. Every single one of them seemed to have enough brains to keep out of trouble. Even now they must have felt very confident.

  We passed the darkened office windows of the vice principal and secretary. The VP was upstairs, I was sure. But the secretary was probably at home sitting in front of the TV set with a warm dinner before her. What did she have to be afraid of?

  We crossed the first-floor hallway and climbed the steep stairs, which creaked as we went up. Maybe the whole staircase would fall, and they’d rush us to the hospital, and I’d never have to see another report card again!

  I sighed as we reached the landing and stepped in through the doors. I peered down the hallway. Parents lined up in front of all the classrooms just as crookedly as their kids had stood during the day. Pop got in line at the first classroom across the hall—mine!

  I sighed again. Every year it was the same thing. Teachers remained in their classrooms and the students from that room sent their parents in to pick up the report card and discuss whatever there was to discuss with the teacher.

  There was nothing in that room that I wanted, so I waited outside. My brothers leaned up against the wall beside me and huddled together whispering.

  I stared down at the floor, wondering what was happening on the other side of that wall, inside the classroom. Suddenly every little shape and shadow at both ends of the crowded hallway became disturbing to me. Outside of this big gathering of classmates and parents, the rest of the school was dark and haunting.

  The church, rectory, and convent were connected to the school by tunnels and pathways. Those dark narrow paths and corners led to many hidden places where I didn’t want to go, especially at night. What if someone or something was hiding in one threatening to jump out at any moment?

  I felt trapped. I braced my back against the wall and pressed my feet against the floor to build up resistance in case something did jump out from the dark corners or around the stairway and tried to grab me. I didn’t think I would make it back out to the street if I tried to run. And I couldn’t get into the van without the keys.

  I had nothing to protect me. Pop once said that knowledge could protect me. How could knowledge protect me?

  Suddenly a shadow appeared from out of the stairway. I held my breath.

  It was Tanya and her grandparents. She smiled and walked over. She stood beside me as her grandparents got in line.

  Then Clarence popped out of the third-grade classroom as Cheri and her parents came down the hall from the other stairway.

  Cheri looked at me funny. “Are you all right?” she asked.

  Lying, I nodded.

  “Well,” Clarence said, walking by and shaking ever
ybody’s hand, “it was nice knowing you.”

  “It won’t be that bad,” Tanya said, shrugging one shoulder.

  Just then, the rest of Courtney’s family entered the hallway. Her mother was already in line, way ahead of Pop. Courtney trailed behind her brother.

  Now I knew how Adrian felt after his big driving bomb out.

  “Why don’t you ask her again?” Mr. Alteza said, pulling a pipe out from his vest pocket. Then he caught Sister Catherina’s disapproving look and carefully placed it back.

  “I don’t want to keep bugging her,” Adrian whispered, jutting his chin at his mother’s back.

  “You bug me for money,” Mr. Alteza said. “I don’t see you worrying about that.”

  “Yeah, but that was before all this came up,” Adrian said pointing his finger at Courtney. Then he kept staring at her.

  What did report card night have to do with Adrian asking his mom for money? They were after Courtney’s report card not his grades.

  I watched her, hugging herself against the wall and wearing a heavy frown. She wouldn’t even look our way.

  Why was she sulking like that? She was the most organized person in our whole group; she didn’t have anything to worry about. But, now that I thought about it, I didn’t remember actually seeing any of her schoolwork on paper. She made a big fuss over doing it, but she would never bring it out and show it to anybody. We always saw Cheri’s work because we delivered it when she was home. And I didn’t even think Tanya had seen her own work.

  “Hey look,” she said, pointing at Jerice and her mother promenading out of our classroom with big toothy grins. Besides my brothers, Jerice was the only kid who still had her uniform on.

  “I hate her,” I mumbled, not really meaning it. “All she does is get A’s.”

  “At least you don’t have to worry about seeing her again when you do your second round of fifth grade next year, right?” Clarence chuckled.

  I looked over at him. “I hate you too.”

  “CLARENCE!”

  The back of everybody’s head hit the wall as Clarence’s father stormed out of the third-grade classroom. His hoarse breathing scratched my eardrums. “Let’s go home, Clarence!” Mr. Wills said, crumpling the report card.

  Bracing himself against the wall, and out of his father’s reach, Clarence wormed his way to the exit doors.

  “Your turn, Courtney,” Tanya alerted.

  Mrs. Alteza swept past, report card in hand, and bolted for the stairs, the bottom of her heels clattering loudly against the buffed floor.

  Mr. Alteza threw us a questioning look and followed his wife.

  Courtney swallowed hard, grabbed her brother’s hand, and the two of them staggered out.

  I gasped and pointed down the hall. “Courtney?” I shrieked. I couldn’t believe it. Was all that talk about studying really just an act? Did she actually flunk something?

  I peeked inside the room. Pop wasn’t in line anymore. I leaned in a little and saw him facing the window with his head down. He was still reading my report card!

  Suddenly I felt a rush of cold air burst open inside me, as if all of my warm blood cells had instantly dried up and there was nothing left but empty space.

  “Take it easy, will you?” Tyrone urged, shaking my arm. “What could happen? Pop’s an easy going guy. Just explain your side of the story, so he won’t think the teachers know everything.”

  I didn’t have a side to the story. My head was spinning.

  “You probably didn’t do as bad as all that.” He flung his arm around my neck. “Besides, the law’s on our side.” His lips curled into a grin.

  He was in the third grade and he thought he knew everything. His surefire grin didn’t help me at all.

  Okay, maybe he did do better than I had done. Maybe Terence did better in fourth grade than I had. Maybe Kriston did better in second. And Terell could have topped us all off with a straight A kindergarten average. But what did that information do for me now? They never offered to help me with my schoolwork. Then again, I didn’t do a lot of schoolwork.

  “How much can one report card mean anyway?” Tanya added. “It’s not like they can see everything we did in class.” She tap-danced in front of me. “If you look busy all year long then they’ll put down that you’ve used a lot of effort.”

  But did that really work? Courtney had looked busy all year long. And all that time I thought she was as devoted to her schoolwork as Cheri was. But Mrs. Alteza wouldn’t have stormed out of the classroom if something wasn’t wrong with Courtney’s grades.

  I looked down the crowded hallway.

  All those heads I saw buried in books, were they just pretending like Tanya said they had been?

  Suddenly, I saw Tanya’s grandparents charging out of the door. “What kind of nonsense is this?” Mrs. Gordon raved.

  I thought to warn Tanya because her back was to the classroom, but it was too late. Each grandparent grabbed an arm and carried her out.

  I glanced back at the classroom and sucked in my breath. I was next.

  I thought of running down to church for a quick prayer, but Pop had the report in his hand and was heading my way. Once one foot crossed the doorway, I pushed Terence up in front of me.

  Eyes directly on mine, Pop asked, “F in math?”

  I gasped.

  “What’s the matter?” he demanded, shaking his head. “You don’t know how to talk now?”

  “No,” I mumbled. “I mean yeah!” I corrected.

  He stood there forever, burning me with his eyes, which weren’t gentle anymore. Then he got in line in front of Terence’s classroom, and I let the air come out.

  When my lungs emptied, I dropped my head onto Terence’s back.

  Pop knew everything, what I did do and what I didn’t do, all the assignments I had messed up, the math test, everything.

  I watched him sandwiched between two mothers. His hands were buried deep inside his pants pockets. By the way he stood there with his shoulders sagging, I could tell he was really disappointed in me. Even though he was a big man, it was still easy to hurt him.

  Not only did I flunk almost all of my subjects, but I also let him down. He wanted more for me. Why hadn’t I seen this before?

  I watched the line move. The nearer he would get to the classroom, the farther he would get from me. I didn’t like the distance that was growing between us. I wanted to run to him and make up for everything, but I didn’t know how.

  I started to go tell him how sorry I was and that I would try to do better, but as soon as he passed through the doorway where he couldn’t see us, four brothers split. Two raced down one end of the hall, two down the other.

  Stunned, Cheri and I gaped at each other. “Where are they going?” she asked me.

  I shook my head and spread my arms out, confused.

  Then her parents came out and smiled at her, the only straight A student in the bunch.

  “I’ll see you later, okay?” she whispered, waving as they headed for the exit.

  Eyes straight ahead, lips shut tight, Pop marched to the next classroom. I backed up against the wall again, giving him plenty of room. I could see the anger building up inside of him, just waiting to explode.

  A nighttime horror show for sure, but I knew the real horror wouldn’t begin until we got home, as if anything worse could happen.

  Feeling as though my shoulders were holding bricks, I slumped to the floor beside Austin while Pop marched around collecting report cards.

  “No TV, no videos, no telephones, no music, nothing until I see those grades go up!”

  We were sitting in the van, quietly going home.

  “Who do you think will support you the rest of your life, huh? You think it will be me? Huh?”

  I wondered where he had found my brothers.

  “Because if that’s what you think, I’m telling you right now, once your butts hit 18, whether you got the diploma or not, you’re hauling it out of my house!”

  He st
opped for about two seconds. “Where’s your mother?”

  We looked at each other. “Home, pregnant,” I said timidly. Did he forget?

  He glimpsed through the rearview mirror and I saw how his eyebrows lowered and the skin above his nose crinkled. “Terell!” he called, “what’s this I hear of you giving Clarence a dollar twenty-five to help you with some show-and-tell project?”

  “I didn’t,” Terell said. “I only gave him five quarters.”

  Pop shook his head. “Five quarters is a dollar twenty-five!” He gripped the steering wheel. “You’ve got three brothers and a sister at home to help you; what in God’s name sent you to Clarence?”

  Terell looked at the rest of us.

  “Is he your teacher?” Pop asked. “Is he responsible for your education? Whatever happened to asking your teacher? What happened to asking your father?” Pop’s face wrinkled up, almost as if he was about to cry. I had never seen him look that way before, and it scared me.

  “Who told you to go pick leaves on the other side of town when you’ve got leaves growing right in your own backyard?” Pop rocked his head from side to side. “Half a kindergarten class with poison ivy,” he mumbled. “You thought to use the tweezers and a plastic bag for yourself, why’d you let your friends touch it? Didn’t you know it was poison ivy?”

  Plastic bag? That green leafy vegetable in the fridge was poison ivy?

  My jaw dropped.

  Pop looked at Terell through the rearview mirror. “Well?”

  “Clarence said the tweezers would keep the leaves from getting bent and the plastic bag would keep them nice and fresh,” Terell explained.

  Pop blinked twice and curved his eyebrows. “How does . . . Why . . . What kind of . . .” He raised his eyebrows and shook his head from side to side. Then he mumbled something out the corner of his lips, but I couldn’t hear it.

  “And you, Tyrone!” he started again. “You think Miss Wilkin forgot about you?”

  Tyrone squirmed down in his seat between Terence and Kriston.

  “If 3 didn’t divide evenly into 33 when you were in second grade, what made you think it would work for your brother?”

  Now Kriston squirmed down next to Tyrone.

  “And explain this one to me, how do you solve the same math problem 10 times and wind up with 13 different answers?” Pop waited. “And then you want to get into a debate over it with the teacher?

  “I’m not putting up with any more of this, you understand?” he hollered. “You were not put in school to cheat on your brother’s homework! If you’ve had that grade already, you let him have an honest go at it for himself!

  “I’m not paying tuition to have you sit inside a classroom twiddling your thumbs. You think this education is free? You think my money grows on trees? You think I enjoy throwing my money away like th— No, let me rephrase that. Do you think?”

  Silence.

  “Bright and early tomorrow morning and straight through the weekend that’s all you’ll be doing, you understand? You will remain glued to those desks and except for meals and the bathroom, your butts will not rise from that seat! You all got that?”

  “Yes,” we muttered. In one ear, out the other.

  After we pulled into the carport, Pop turned the ignition key, mumbled something else, and climbed out of the van.

  Lying in bed, thinking about what had happened, I was so glad that report card night was over. Drained empty in the pit of my stomach, I stared up at the ceiling. Our parents weren’t empty; they knew everything, not just about me either. I wondered if they were in their room talking now.

  I snuck out of bed and put my ear to the door. I didn’t hear anything. I cracked it open and peeked down the hall. Under their bedroom door I could see a yellow stream of light.

  I shut my door and looked at my desk still stacked with schoolwork.

  I climbed back in bed, pulled the sheet up to my neck, and lay my head against the soft pillow.

  The whole school came to life for me that night: The bright streams of light for studying, the library where answers could be found for questions unanswered, the lockers for storing textbooks and school supplies so that we would always be prepared. All the things that I had ignored earlier came rushing back to me at once, like a gigantic wave that had been building up for weeks. I was warned about this night, but I wouldn’t pay attention.

  I rolled over on my side to face the window. A light breeze raised the curtain. I could see Courtney’s window opened; it was dark in there. I wondered if she was lying awake in bed too.

  The sermon was still floating around in the back of my mind, and little by little, it haunted me in my own room. I wasn’t scared, though. The darkness at home was friendlier than it was at school; it felt good. There were no secret corridors or narrow pathways connecting my room to unknown places. This darkness was familiar, and I felt warm and secure surrounded by my things.

  I heard a car rumble down the road past Courtney’s house and I cringed a little, remembering our ride of terror earlier. But the school was closed now, and report card night was over.

  I hugged the corner of my pillow and stared at the night air out the window. What kept preventing me from getting ahead? Or more important, what did I let prevent me from getting ahead? I couldn’t reach back into my brain and pull out a single answer for that question, just like I couldn’t find an answer for Austin the other night.

  I wondered if Cynthia would ever go through this when she started grade school. Back when I finished daycare, I was worried too, because I hadn’t known what first grade would be like and who I would meet. Then there were the teachers. Who looked mean? Who gave the most homework? Who gave the hardest exams?

  I used to wonder what the upper grades had to go through. Watching them sitting in the auditorium with their teachers, the ones I would have to face, they talked and laughed like everybody else does. The only difference between them and me was their knowledge of some things that I hadn’t yet learned.

  We all had in common a history at that elementary school to haunt us for the rest of our lives.

  Headlights flashed against the windowsill as another car rumbled past the house. Then it was quiet again.

  I moved the damp bed sheet away to air out my sweaty neck.

  I guessed there was no point in looking forward to summer. I had to put my mind on doing my schoolwork all over again. I didn’t want to go through another report card night like that ever: Paying Clarence a dollar twenty-five for a better choice of leaves and then winding up with poison ivy; cheating on your brother’s homework just because you already had that grade. It was clever. It didn’t work but it was clever. I shut my eyes and sighed.

  I didn’t think kids could make their parents as upset as we made our parents. I wrapped my arms around my stomach.

  Many times Pop used to tell me that if I had problems I should come to him or Mom. Some kids in my school didn’t have a parent to encourage them to do right or to worry when they did wrong.

  Pop once told me that I could improve my schoolwork by balancing my schedule. I guess I’ll be starting this schedule soon.

  I rolled onto my back and stared at the streetlight’s reflection glittering against the ceiling and making my eyes sleepy.

  If I did my work a little at a time and not wait for the big pile up at the last minute, there was no reason why I couldn’t pass. And like Father Farrin said, maybe it would pay off in the future.

  Why did it take this type of catastrophe to finally get my brain working?

  “I love you Daddy,” I whispered.