To E, Solo, and the Chocolate Boy Thunder — my very own Booker Boys (sorry, no Ruby … yet)
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1: Dodge This!
Chapter 2: Animal Expert
Chapter 3: I Didn’t Plan for This
Chapter 4: Trivia Queen
Chapter 5: I’ll Do It My Way
Chapter 6: Getting Ready, Getting Scared
Chapter 7: Believe in What You Got
Chapter 8: Get Your Game Face On
Chapter 9: The Showdown
Chapter 10: Spread the Love
Bonus: The Ruby Challenge
Sneak Peek at The Slumber Party Payback
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Card Page
Copyright
It was down to me and only me.
We were playing ball tag in gym class against Mr. Littlejohn’s third-grade class. Ball tag is freeze tag and dodgeball put together. Kids from our classroom, Pluto-3, were on one side of the bright white line on the gym floor. Mr. Littlejohn’s class was on the other side. There were two boys on their side against me. The other kids from my class were frozen solid.
Lenny Sermon and Mikey Tripp, the boys from the other class, passed the ball back and forth between them. Mikey yelled out, “Just stand still, Ruby. Let’s get this over with.” And then Lenny had to add his three cents. “You don’t stand a chance, girl.” He laughed.
Even though my classmates were stuck like statues, they were all cheering me on. Low-Low, who speaks quiet as a mouse, waved both of his arms in the air. “Come on, Ruby. You’re our last hope,” he said. Normally, Low-Low talks so quietly I can’t hear a thing he says. That’s how he got the name Low-Low. But today Low-Low was calling out like a cheerleader! I’ve never heard him be so loud. Maybe this was because our team had lost ball tag last week for the second time in a row, all from Low-Low’s lousy playing. After that game everybody in our class blamed Low-Low for making Pluto-3 into such losers. I knew then that I had to win for Low-Low and represent my class.
All of a sudden, I shouted, “PLUTO-3!!!” My classmates screamed along with me, “PLUTO-3!” I was ready then. “Throw the ball!” I said as I rubbed my palms together. My brother Roosevelt, who we call Ro, taught me how to stand when you’re waiting for a ball to come flying at you — feet spread wide, hands open and ready to catch the ball. So, that’s just what I did. Just like Ro had showed me.
Lenny passed the ball to Mikey. He stepped back and waited for our gym teacher, Coach Tuma, to blow his whistle. Everybody in the gym got quiet.
Mikey rushed the bright white line like he was a wild rhino. I stood there and waited for the perfect moment. When the ball flew out of Mikey’s hands, I could hear Lenny cheering like they had already won. I’d played dozens of dodgeball games with my three brothers, and the ball that Mikey threw at me seemed kind of weak. It almost looked like slow motion.
I reached out and plucked the ball out of the air like it was a cherry. Mikey’s jaw hit the gym floor. He couldn’t believe it, but he was out.
Lenny knew he was next. He stopped laughing and looked like a scared little chicken. He tried to turn and run for the wall, but I charged the white line this time.
Lenny fell as he tried to escape and then got back on his feet. Before he could take two steps, I chucked the ball like I had a cannon for an arm. Lenny turned back and saw that ball zooming toward him. He hollered, “Nooooooo!” But it was too late. The ball bounced off the heel of Lenny’s sneaker and then bonked! him in the back of the head. I didn’t mean for the ball to hit Lenny that way. He hit the floor before he could reach the wall. Game over.
Who else could have defeated those boys while wearing the cutest pink-and-gold skirt with brand-new purple and orange mismatched sneakers? Ruby Marigold Booker, that’s who. I couldn’t help but sing:
“Ball tag champions, can’t you see,
Ruby Booker and the class from Pluto-3!”
I raised my hands like a champion. My frozen teammates came back to life. Teresa Petticoat, my best friend in the universe, cheered at the top of her lungs, “HOORAY FOR RUBY!!!!” I’d won the game for my whole class. Low-Low gave me the highest high five ever. Winning was for Low-Low and everyone in Pluto-3. That was good news.
But right after ball tag ended, our gym teacher, Coach Tuma, had even better news.
* * *
“Great job, Ruby!” Coach Tuma smiled at me. He gave me a high five. He had a very proper way of talking, though. “Your classroom should be ever so grateful to you,” he said. Coach Tuma was from an African country called Kenya. I liked his voice.
“Thank you, Coach Tuma,” I said.
“You ran at those boys with so much power and speed,” Coach Tuma said. He pointed at the painting on the wall of the gym. “You see the African elephant in that beautiful painting, Ruby? You have the same grace.”
Teresa was right by my side. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Ruby is all grace,” she said.
I tapped Coach Tuma on his arm. “Coach, I don’t mean to be rude, but that’s not an African elephant.”
Coach Tuma looked up at the painting again. “What do you mean?” He crossed his arms.
“It’s simple, Coach Tuma,” I explained. “That elephant has small ears, and his back has a little dent in it. That, Coach Tuma, is an Asian elephant.”
“You’re sure about that?” he asked. Coach Tuma was smiling. I could tell he knew I was right, but he just wanted to test me.
Teresa said, “She’s positive, Coach Tuma. Trust me, Ruby knows what she’s talking about.”
I bumped my hip to Teresa’s. “I do know, Coach. I just saw that elephant on one of the animal facts Web sites my ma lets me go to.”
“So, Ruby, you’re an animal expert?”
“Nope. I’m a trivia expert. When it comes to little facts, strange facts, and funny facts about any- and everything, there’s a good chance I know it.”
“There’s a great chance she knows it,” Teresa said.
“Well, it’s a good thing you know so much about animals,” Coach Tuma said. “My wife is here at school today. She is the head zookeeper at the Bellow Rock City Zoo. She’ll be bringing a surprise to every classroom. Who knows? Maybe it’s animals.”
“Really?! I love animals. I have a pet iguana named Lady Love,” I said. But Teresa wasn’t so happy. She’s scared of anything that crawls, slithers, barks, chirps, or squeaks. I have to lock up my pet iguana when she comes to my house. I put my arm around Teresa. “Will your wife be bringing iguanas?” I asked Coach Tuma.
“She’ll be bringing many interesting things, Ruby, including a big announcement,” Coach Tuma said. “But you’ll just have to wait and see.”
“What announcement?” I wanted to know.
Teresa backed away. “Does the announcement have anything to do with touching the animals?”
“She’ll be in your classroom next. Soon you’ll know exactly what’s coming,” Coach Tuma said.
I hate it when people keep secrets. But Coach Tuma wouldn’t tell us anything else. He blew his whistle for the class to line up.
I was still excited about winning at ball tag, but now my mind was stuck on the big announcement. What could it be?
“Sounds like we have a visitor,” our teacher, Miss Fuqua, announced after hearing a tiny knock on our classroom door. Teresa jumped out of her seat like it was on fire. She ran under Miss Fuqua’s desk and peeked out at our teacher.
“Now, Miss Fuqua,” she said, “those creepy, itchy, biting, scratchy, slimy critters and I just don’t get along.” Teresa looked as scared as ever.
&nb
sp; “You can stay right where you are, Teresa. I don’t mind,” Miss Fuqua said.
A second knock came from the door, and in walked a lady wearing a cute tan outfit. Behind her was a tall man pulling two covered cages behind him. Miss Fuqua asked us to sit around the big earth-patterned rug in our classroom. “Keep your legs crossed and your hands in your laps,” she instructed. But I didn’t want to put my hands in my lap. I wanted to pet the animals!
The lady in the tan outfit introduced herself. “Hello, students of Pluto-3. I am the head zookeeper at the Bellow Rock City Zoo.” She had the same proper way of talking as Coach Tuma. “My name is —” Before she could finish, I stood up and waved my hands in the air.
“I know who you are. You’re Coach Tuma’s wife. And I know that you’re from Kenya because you talk the same way he does. And —” Now Miss Fuqua cut me off.
“Ruby Booker! You’re a smart girl, so I know you haven’t lost your manners or your mind. We don’t interrupt guests, do we, class?” Miss Fuqua asked. Together, everyone said, “Noooooo!”
Sometimes, I just can’t help myself. I didn’t mean to be rude. But I hate waiting on stuff. Especially when it’s right in front of me. I was dying to see what was under those cage covers. Were they lizards, or badgers, or bear cubs? I rocked back and forth, cracking my knuckles and tapping my toes on the floor.
The zoo lady had her eyes on me. “Yes, I am the coach’s wife,” she said. “My name is Mrs. Teema Tuma. Animals are my job.” She didn’t seem too upset by my blurting out. I was glad about that.
She turned to the man behind her. “This is my assistant today, boys and girls. His name is Earl.” The man named Earl didn’t say much. He waved once. In a deep voice he said, “Hello, everybody. Glad to be here.” Even though Earl didn’t have much to say, I was going to be really nice to him so that he and Mrs. Tuma would let me pet the animals. No more blurting out. I wanted to be treated special.
Earl gently pulled the covers off the cages. “Those are the cutest little monkeys,” Low-Low said quietly.
But I knew they weren’t. I couldn’t help but do what I was trying so hard not to do! “Those are baby orangutans!” Mrs. Tuma looked pleased that I knew what was in the cages. She held one of the orangutans. Earl held the other one. They walked around our circle to let us get a closer look.
Teresa was so far underneath Miss Fuqua’s desk, I couldn’t even see her anymore.
“These lovely creatures are from Asia, boys and girls,” Mrs. Tuma said. But the way they drank milk from their baby bottles and looked at us with their big soupy eyes, it looked like they came from a little bitty country called Cute.
When Mrs. Tuma and Earl put the orangutans away and locked the cages, Teresa Petticoat joined us around the rug.
“Students, listen up. Mrs. Tuma has a big, big, big announcement to share,” Miss Fuqua said.
When the room got completely quiet, Mrs. Tuma said, “Next week, here at Hope Road Academy, I will be back for the annual schoolwide animal trivia contest that will be held in your beautiful auditorium.”
I heard everything she said, but the word that came through the loudest was my favorite word — trivia! Trivia was my thing. I wanted to blurt out again, but I kept listening. Contest was another one of my favorite words. And the two together were beautiful. Trivia contest.
Mrs. Tuma explained. “The student who answers all of the trivia questions correctly will win free passes to the Bellow Rock City Zoo for the whole year … for every student in his or her grade level.” When Mrs. Tuma said that, everyone in our class went crazy. The hoots and hollers got even louder when she added, “Plus … the whole thing will be seen on a local TV station!” But everyone groaned when Mrs. Tuma finished her announcement. “The trivia contest will be for fifth- through eighth-graders. As third-graders, your job is to cheer on your fellow students.”
We wasted all those hoots and hollers for nothing!
Now I just couldn’t help it. I had to blurt out one more time. “That’s not fair, Mrs. Tuma. Miss Fuqua, tell her, I’m really, really, really good at trivia!” I begged Miss Fuqua to back me up.
“I know it, Ruby, but rules are rules,” Miss Fuqua said.
Mrs. Tuma said, “Young lady, don’t worry. To be fair, we will provide take-home junior trivia booklets for kindergarten through fourth-grade students. Since the trivia questions are for older children, it would be unfair for students in the third grade and below to compete against seventh- and eighth-graders, don’t you think?” Mrs. Tuma asked me.
“No way! I can beat those big ol’ seventh- and eighth-graders any day. I can do it,” I cried to Mrs. Tuma. “Besides, junior trivia booklets are for little kids who aren’t that good at trivia. I’m as good as it gets.”
“Well, it’s fine with me if you want to enter the contest, but the final decision must come from your principal,” Mrs. Tuma told me.
“Really?” I asked. I turned to Miss Fuqua and said, “Please, Miss Fuqua, I could win this thing. I know I could.”
Miss Fuqua pulled Mrs. Tuma to the side and they began to talk. Slowly and quietly, my classmates began to chant. It was my girl Teresa who got the chanting started. “Ruby! Ruby! Ruby!”
The other kids wanted me to represent the third grade in the contest. They believed in me. They knew I could win those free zoo passes just like I won the ball tag game in the gym. I wore a smile that sparkled brighter than Miss Fuqua’s earrings.
Miss Fuqua and Mrs. Tuma came back over to our circle. Miss Fuqua said, “Well, Ruby, it’s okay with me and it’s okay with Mrs. Tuma, so all we have to do is convince the principal, Ms. Cherrybaum.” The class cheered. Miss Fuqua said, “Unfortunately, Ruby, Ms. Cherrybaum is out of town. She’ll be back tomorrow. We’ll ask her then.”
Earl put the cloth covers back on the orangutan cages. As Mrs. Tuma waved good-bye and Earl rolled the cages out of our classroom, we all waved back. All I could think about was being on that big stage in our auditorium, looking good on TV, and winning the whole contest for the third grade. This time, I would be the Booker with her name in lights. The glory would go to me, not Ty, Ro, or Marcellus, my three older brothers who are good at everything.
We all look forward to dinner on Thursday nights. That’s when Ma whips up my favorite, most delicious dish, chicken enchiladas. I love those things! To make them just right, Ma leaves early from her dance studio on Forty-seventh and Evers, where she gives daily lessons.
We kids were all sitting around the table waiting for the food when Ty stood up and pushed his chair in. “Excuse me, everybody,” he said, “but I have a very important piece of news to share.” Just then, Ro grabbed three black olives from the little bowl Ma keeps them in on the table. One by one, Ro boinked Ty in the head with the olives.
Ro said, “I’ve got a piece of news, too. You need to sit down, man. Nobody cares right now. I’m starvin’ like Marvin!” Ro crunched a handful of tortilla chips into his mouth.
Marcellus said, “Come on, Ro, chill. Let Noodles say what he has to say.” Marcellus called Ty by his nickname, Noodles. Then he popped a chip in his mouth, too.
Ma and Daddy came into the dining room, carrying the food and glasses of iced tea. Daddy usually misses Thursday’s chicken enchiladas because he’s working late at his music store, The Booker Box. I love The Booker Box. That’s how I learned how to sing so well. My daddy has been bringing home all sorts of music since I was a baby.
Daddy must have heard us while he was in the kitchen. He set the food on the table and then said, “Tyner has some news? Share it with us, little dude.”
Ma and Daddy stood by Tyner. “Yeah, baby, what is it?”
“Well, today at school, a lady from the zoo brought a couple of orangutans for us to see. But the real news is that she announced the big annual animal trivia contest for the whole school.” Ty paused. “Well, the contest is really only for fifth-graders and up.” Ty looked over at me. “Sorry, Rube. I know how good you are at trivia. But don’t worry.
I’ll win this thing for you. I’m going to be representing the entire sixth grade.” I wasn’t expecting that at all. Ty was going to be in the contest?
Ma hugged Ty tight. “That’s my baby! Congratulations, Tyner. I know you’ll do well,” Ma said. I didn’t even tell them that I was going to try to be in the contest.
Daddy set down the plates in the center of the table so that we could each get our own chicken enchiladas. Ro beat us all. Before anyone could serve themselves, Ro’s plate was spilling over with food. Ma flicked Ro on the hand with her pointer finger. “Don’t be so greedy, boy!”
Then Marcellus stood up. He had an even bigger announcement. Something else I wasn’t expecting, either.
“Not so fast, little brother. Somebody has to represent the seventh grade, right? I was chosen to be that guy,” Marcellus said. Marcellus gave Ty the handshake that the Booker men do. We call it a pound of Booker. “May the best Booker win.”
I slumped down in my chair. Usually when there was big news from anyone in our family, I clapped and shouted like it was my big news. But this time, my chin was hanging in my salsa. My eyes were full of tears, and I didn’t even take a whiff of my enchilada. Ma came over from her chair and put her soft hands on my face. “It’s okay, Ruby. You’ll get your chance someday.”
“Yeah, ladybug,” Marcellus said. “One thing is for sure. A Booker will win this thing.” Marcellus looked at his reflection in his spoon and gave us all a pretty-boy smile.
Ro just kept chomping his food. “Slow down, Roosevelt,” Daddy joked. “You’re going to bust a gut.” Everybody but me filled their plates and bellies with Ma’s enchiladas. I just couldn’t eat. I kept thinking about what Marcellus said — that a Booker would win the contest. I wanted that Booker to be me. But with Ty and Marcellus in the competition, I worried that Booker would not be me.
The next day Miss Fuqua and I walked to the principal’s office. Miss Fuqua was behind me 100 percent. She knew how much I wanted to be in the animal trivia contest.
Trivia Queen, Third Grade Supreme Page 1
