The Newsy News Newsletter

by Karen English

  "Four dollars and fifty cents," Nikki says, once she's punched in the numbers. They both stare at the figure for a few seconds. "That's not very much. You try, Deja."

  Deja takes her turn punching in the numbers. They see the same figure displayed.

  "Maybe we can charge more. Like thirty cents," Nikki suggests.

  "No, that's too complicated. Then people will have to find a nickel to go with the quarter, and if it's too hard, they'll hand you a dollar rather than go through the trouble, and you're all the time gonna be trying to make change."

  Deja is right. Deja always knows about these things, Nikki thinks.

  "We can have the newsletter come out twice a month rather than just once a month," Nikki offers.

  Deja sighs. "Nikki, no street has that much news."

  "Let's try it," Nikki says.

  Deja shrugs, which is as good as saying okay.

  They settle back on their elbows and look up and down the block. At that moment, Fulton Street looks as if it has no news at all. They are quiet for a bit, then Nikki says, "Ooh, ooh! We can write all about how I won the I Spy key chain from the grab bag."

  Deja doesn't say anything.

  "That would be good, wouldn't it, Deja?"

  Deja sighs again, loudly, as if she is trying to show Nikki how weary she is of the topic. "Nikki, nobody wants to hear about you winning the I Spy key chain."

  "It depends on how I write it. I can tell about how everyone wanted it, but nobody ever gets it and—"

  "That's boring."

  "It is not!" Nikki insists.

  "You've already told that story a bunch of times." Deja looks away down the street as she says this.

  "Well, it's just that it is the best prize in the grab bag, and no one's ever gotten it, and I'm the one who finally got it. That's all."

  Deja doesn't say anything. She just looks up and rolls her eyes. Nikki catches this. "I think you're jealous," she says for the second time that day.

  "No, I'm not. I like what I got."

  That's not what she said before, Nikki thinks. "That mouse paper punch?"

  "Yes. I always have papers I need to punch."

  "Hmm." Now it's Nikki's turn to roll her eyes in disbelief. Deja had already told her how stupid she thought the hole puncher was. Before she can remind Deja of that, a car pulls up to Darnell's house and Evan's mother gets out and walks up to knock on the front door. Darnell's big sister answers. They speak for a few minutes, then Evan's mother makes an about-face and goes rushing back down the walkway to her car. She jumps in and speeds away.

  "I guess she knows about Evan," Deja says.

  3. The Fulton Street Newsy News Newsletter Is Born (Officially)

  "Deja, I think we should include news about Carver Elementary, too," Nikki says as they walk to school the next morning.

  Deja considers this for a moment. "Would people on our street want to hear about what's happening at our school?"

  "Yeah, because it's a neighborhood school, and all their kids go there or used to go there, and my dad says that's one of the places our tax money goes to, so I think they'd be interested."

  Nikki notices Deja stand up a little straighter at the mention of Nikki's dad. Probably because Deja's own dad hasn't been around for a long, long time. Deja has made it clear that she thinks Nikki's father is the smartest person in the world—just because he leaves the house every morning in a suit and tie and carries a briefcase. He works at some kind of company, and Deja has said that he probably does smart things all day long. "Okay," she agrees. "That would give us more stuff to write about."

  Nikki smiles. She can't wait to get to school and start seeing things with a reporter's eye.

  Just before recess, Ms. Shelby looks through the basket of class work to see who hasn't turned in their word lines. Only those who have done their work can go outside. "Ralph, I don't see your word lines," she says calmly.

  Ralph jumps up out of his seat. "I turned it in!" he insists.

  "Calm down. Let me look again." Now everyone turns toward Ms. Shelby with interest. A few look back at Ralph suspiciously.

  "Ralph doesn't always do his work, Ms. Shelby," Rosario offers primly.

  "But I turned it in this time!"

  Ms. Shelby continues searching. Nikki sees a few children look up at the clock. They're probably thinking that this is cutting into their recess time. "Sorry, Ralph, I still don't see it. Would you like to look?"

  Ralph marches up to the front of the class. To Nikki, he seems like a person who is telling the truth. He flips through the papers quickly. "Here it is!" He waves a paper in the air. "This is mine!"

  Ms. Shelby studies the paper carefully. "This looks like your handwriting, I must say." She turns her gaze to Richard. "But it seems Richard has put his name on it."

  She then dismisses the class row by row, keeping Richard behind to discuss the situation.

  "He's going to have to write a letter to his mom about it," Ayanna says to Nikki and Deja as they hurry out the door. Ayanna has had plenty of practice writing letters home. The three of them walk to the handball court, but Nikki heads straight for the bench. She sits down and pulls out her kitty pen and notebook.

  "Aren't you going to play?" Deja asks.

  "I want to write something down first," Nikki says, looking off at nothing in particular and frowning slightly. Then she begins to write quickly.

  "Whatever..." Deja says, and serves the ball.

  For the entire school day, Nikki keeps her pad and kitty pen at the ready. She whips it out in the cafeteria when Carlos upsets Richard's carton of milk by accidentally bumping his tray. The milk spills onto Richard's lap, making an embarrassing wet spot down the front of his pants. He has to go to the office so the secretary can call home to have someone bring him another pair of pants.

  In the afternoon, Nikki sees Carlton pass a note to Emilio. Emilio reads it and laughs to himself. He attempts to toss it to Ralph, but it lands short—right on Ayanna's desk. Ayanna reads it, and her eyes shift back and forth. She looks uncomfortable. She puts the folded paper in her desk.

  As soon as they file out for P.E., Nikki sidles up to Ayanna and asks her what was in the note. "Just something about Yolanda being fat," Ayanna tells her. Nikki is disappointed, but then she thinks there might be something she can write about people being called fat and how it isn't nice.

  After school, on the walk home, Nikki says, "I think I'm going to write about fat people and how it isn't nice to call them names or compare them to whales or barns."

  "You can't do that," Deja says.

  "Why not?"

  "We aren't supposed to say 'fat' anymore. Remember when we got that talk?"

  Nikki remembers, and she feels a little deflated. She really wants to mention that note in her newsletter. But Ms. Shelby's talks are very, very serious. Sometimes they are all-girl talks. Sometimes they are all boy. She'll hold the boys back from recess and have the girls go out, or she'll hold the girls back. There is always a little ripple of excitement as everyone waits to see what she is going to say.

  One time Ms. Shelby kept the whole class in to discuss the state in which they were leaving both restrooms. She looked almost hurt as she said, "Raise your hand if you would leave your own bathroom at home that way." A few eager beavers had their hands up before they digested the question. They lowered them sheepishly and looked around.

  Ms. Shelby went on. Would they fill their own sinks at home with paper towels and then leave the water running? And what was so hard about getting their used paper towels into the big trash can in its convenient location right beside the sink? Would they walk away from their own toilets without bothering to flush? As Ms. Shelby talked, no one dared to look at anyone else. They'd been too worried that someone would think they were the guilty party.

  Room Ten had had one of those special talks just the week before. Ms. Shelby let the boys out for recess and held the girls back. Then she'd turned to them with a really serious look on her face. Ever
yone waited. Finally, Ms. Shelby held up a folded piece of paper. She didn't say anything. She just scanned the group, lingering on one or two girls for an extra couple of seconds. Then she opened the paper and held it up so it could be clearly seen. On the paper was a drawing of a whale, with a fountain of water shooting out of its blowhole. Someone had used the side of her pencil to shade it light gray. Then, across the body in dark pencil, were the words "Yolanda Meeker is as fat as a wale."

  "I found this underneath a certain person's desk. I'm not sure that person is the one who drew this. It could have been anyone, actually. But I'm so glad Yolanda isn't here today. That way I can give you all fair warning without embarrassing her. What is one of our rules?" Every head had turned toward the class rules chart posted on the wall by the door.

  "Treat everyone with respect," they said in unison. Beverly Cummings yawned a big, noisy yawn.

  "It's rude to yawn out loud in front of a group, Beverly," Rosario said. Then she looked at Ms. Shelby expectantly. But Ms. Shelby just ignored her, and Beverly's yawn.

  "If I see evidence of disrespect again, such as comparing people to whales or barns or whatever, I will have to make phone calls home."

  Everyone seemed to hold their breath, then. Eyes shifted all around.

  "All right," Ms. Shelby said. "You may go out to recess."

  "It must have been under a girl's desk," Nikki had whispered to Deja as they'd walked out the door.

  Now Nikki thinks that, in light of that talk, this latest disrespectful note is especially bad. Something needs to be done, and Nikki feels she is the one who should write about it. It is up to her to raise people's awareness. Ms. Shelby would want her to.

  "I still think I'm going to write about people not calling other people fat," Nikki says to Deja as they reach Fulton Street.

  "Not calling people fat is not a news story," Deja replies.

  "I can write about how calling someone fat can hurt that fat person's feelings, and that someone's feelings got hurt in our class ... without mentioning Yolanda's name."

  Deja doesn't answer. She is looking at Antonia's house down the street. Nikki looks, too. It seems particularly quiet. It is the only split-level house on Fulton Street—with a trampoline in the backyard and a tetherball built into the ground. Nikki and Deja have only seen the trampoline and tetherball once, when Antonia's family moved in. But they've heard all about them from Antonia.

  Later, sitting at Auntie Dee's computer, which she said they could use if they were extra careful, Deja composes this:

  Deja pulls the piece of paper out of the printer, and the two girls read it together.

  "Well, I have a couple of questions," Nikki says.

  "What?" Deja asks, sounding as if she is preparing to be testy. Nikki knows Deja can be a little sensitive, especially since she's composed the form all on her own.

  "Don't you think that there are too many exclamation marks?"

  "No, I don't."

  Nikki goes on. "And why do we need their addresses? We know where everyone lives, and we're not mailing it. We're delivering it. And—"

  "You said a couple of questions."

  Nikki doesn't know how to ask the next question. Deja can be so bossy.

  "What if..."

  "What if, what?" Deja says, studying her order form with a look of satisfaction.

  "What if no one wants our newsletter?"

  "That's not the way to look at it, Nikki. You have to think everyone is going to want it. People always want to know about their neighbors."

  Deja's words make Nikki feel a little uneasy. She doesn't think they are words her mother would approve of.

  Deja jumps up and runs to the door of Auntie's office to peer into the living room.

  "What's your auntie doing?" Nikki asks. She walks over to Deja and looks over her shoulder. Auntie Dee has her headphones on. She is listening to music and thumbing through a magazine. It is her winding-down time. "I need to unwind," she often says to Deja when she gets home from work, which is sometimes long after Deja gets home. Those afternoons, Deja stays at Nikki's until her aunt comes for her.

  "She's unwinding."

  "How come she has to unwind?"

  "Because she's been working all day." Deja's aunt works for a small theater company, and according to her, she has to wear many hats. She has to raise funds, she has to see to publicity, and she has to keep everyone happy. It's an exhausting job, Deja has told Nikki in the past.

  Nikki thinks about this. "How do you unwind?"

  "You do the opposite of working. Doesn't your dad have to unwind when he comes home from work?"

  "I don't know. Maybe."

  Deja goes back to the computer and checks the printer paper. "We have to print out eighteen of these. Auntie might not want me to use that much paper."

  "Why don't you ask her?" Nikki says.

  Deja looks over at Nikki for a long moment. "Nikki, if you don't want to hear no, you don't ask."

  Nikki's eyes widen. "You're gonna get in trouble."

  "Be quiet. No, I'm not."

  They both turn to watch their order form being printed over and over and over again. When eighteen forms are stacked in the printer tray, Deja turns to Nikki. "You know what this means, don't you?"

  "No, what?"

  "The Fulton Street Newsy News Newsletter is officially born."

  4. Editorial Decisions

  Nikki and Deja have big plans for after school. As soon as they finish their homework and get a snack, they are going to go over all of their news stories and see which ones they want to put in the newsletter. Maybe they'll even decide on the stories before they do their homework.

  "We're going to be famous," Deja says as they walk to school that morning.

  "Famous?"

  "For being the youngest people ever to have their own newspaper."

  "Newsletter," Nikki says. "Kind of like our school newsletter that comes out every month."

  Actually, Nikki doesn't think their newsletter, which will be full of real news, will be anything like the school newsletter. That newsletter comes out once a month and reports on boring things like field trips and which class had the highest attendance of parents at Back to School Night. Their newsletter is going to be way better.

  The night before, on Auntie Dee's computer, Deja had pecked out a list of stories:

  MRS. MARKHAM WINS BLUE RIBBON

  EVAN BREAKS ARM BEING A DAREDEVIL

  GLOBAL TIRE SLASHES PRICES

  (Deja came up with that one by looking in their real newspaper and checking the lingo of real headlines.)

  MR. ROBINSON LOCKED OUT

  MISS IDA VISITS SHUT-INS

  MR. BEACHAM'S BRAND-NEW GARDEN HOSE

  STOLEN! AND THE WINDER THING TOO!

  (Deja heard Auntie mention that on the telephone to her friend Phoebe.)

  BIANCA RETURNS

  (She returned weeks before, but they needed some more news.)

  Deja had convinced Nikki to let go of that article about fatness, even though Nikki still thought it was a good idea.

  As soon as they enter the schoolyard, Nikki and Deja see Evan walk by with his arm in a cast.

  "Wow, he really did break his arm," Nikki says.

  "Toldja."

  "You did not," Nikki replies.

  "I knew he was going to break something."

  In the classroom, Ms. Shelby is putting a new card in the lunch monitor envelope on the Job Squad chart. It looks like Ms. Shelby has received notice that Valerie is going to be absent, and Antonia is getting the coveted lunch monitor job in her place. Everyone wants to be lunch monitor. It is a special job Ms. Shelby has created because she has grown tired of the noise level in the cafeteria. The lunch monitor is in charge of a small spiral notebook that has the words lunch monitor on it. She or he gets to report on any bad manners at the lunch table, which include mixing food not to be mixed (pudding and milk, for example); throwing away whole, untouched apples or cartons of milk; grabbing at another per
son's food or even asking for it; throwing food; and shouting in any way, shape, or form.

  The best part of being lunch monitor is making the after-lunch report. While the monitor consults the spiral notebook, everyone looks at him or her suspiciously. As soon as anyone's name and offense is recounted, that person is already jumping up to protest. Especially the boys. Ms. Shelby doesn't accept protests if there are witnesses to the offenses. She just walks over to the behavior chart next to the whiteboard and switches the green behavior card to orange—the warning color.

  At lunch Antonia takes her special seat at the end of the long cafeteria table. She keeps a sharp eye on her classmates while she eats. Gerald blows bubbles in his milk. Quietly, Antonia opens her notebook and jots that down. Gerald pays no attention. Leslie laughs, with chewed-up food clearly visible. Again, out comes the notebook, more notations entered.

  Nikki watches this uneasily. She doesn't like the way Antonia acts when she is lunch monitor. It's as if all she wants to do is catch someone doing something wrong. Nikki takes a sip of milk. Maybe she should warn Leslie, who seems to be taking great pleasure in grossing everyone out. Nikki looks down at the untouched apple on her tray. She doesn't want it, but she can't throw it away—not when children are starving in parts of the world, as Ms. Shelby always reminds them.

  Nikki takes a big bite of apple. Then Arthur catches her attention. He is blowing through his straw to make the straw paper roll out, then back in, like one of those party favor toys. That doesn't escape Antonia's notebook, either. out it comes for another entry.

  In the yard after lunch, most of the girls in Ms. Shelby's class get caught up in a game of waterfall with the two long ropes. Before they know it, the freeze bell is ringing and it is time to line up.