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It Doesn't Take a Genius

Page 25

by Olugbemisola Rhuday Perkovich


  “I’d be happy to check it out, though, Vanessa,” says Charisse, and I think that calms Vanessa down a little. “You can even have the box of award ribbons we bought. But of course, I’m sure that you’ll agree that there is enough value in just learning, without external rewards.”

  “I’ll take that box of ribbons,” says Vanessa. “They’ll come in handy.”

  Charisse shakes her head, and Reggie say that the show will begin in five minutes. Those of us who are going to be in the audience grab seats. All my friends are in the show, so I’m alone.

  I catch Reggie’s eye, and he slides into the seat next to me. “Yo, Emmett, how’d it go with the workbook?” he asks.

  “It was actually kind of helpful,” I say. “Once I figured out how to use it.”

  “I knew you were a smart guy.” Reggie hands me a piece of paper. “Here’s my email, let’s stay in touch. Who’s picking you up tomorrow? Please introduce me.”

  “My mom,” I say, realizing that I really can’t wait to hug her. “I thought I’d have a whole new Emmett to show her … I had a lot of plans that didn’t quite work out.”

  He pats my shoulder. “But I bet the not working out helped you make new plans,” he says. “Sometimes the lessons we learn from our mistakes make for more success than we could have ever dreamed of.”

  “What does that even mean? Are you sure you’re not Shiny Suit Man’s son?” I ask, and he laughs.

  Some people are grumbling about the Camp Showcase competition getting snatched, but most of us are just sitting back and enjoying the show. Street Style comes out and kills it. I think about how much I wanted to be in that class, and how hard I worked. Then I think about how hard everyone up there is working. Kelly’s solo is flawless, and I try to clap the loudest when she’s done. Even Marcus the Clapmaster can’t compete.

  Charles’ ensemble gets cheers before they even start, and I can tell that he loves it. After they’re done, he stands up and does the robot and at first I wish I had a hook to yank him offstage but the crowd loves it, and the truth is, so do I. Michelle’s play is a little bit of a downer, but then she has the two Amys do a reprise of my big finale routine and everyone cheers. Even though I’m not actually up there, it’s like I am, and it feels good.

  Brant comes over with Lance. “Hey, Emmett, this guy’s been looking for you,” he says.

  “Hi, Emmett,” says Lance. “I’m going to take my swim test again in the morning. Will you come and cheer for me?”

  I don’t hesitate. “Absolutely. We’re swim buddies, right? Oh wait, no we’re not—” His eyes get wide. “We’re buddy buddies!” I finish, I give him a high-five. Thank goodness his hands are dry and look relatively clean.

  Brant smiles. “Lance, if you promise to listen to Emmett, you can sit with him for the Blackity Bowl, okay? I’ll tell your counselor where you are.”

  “I’ll look out for Lance,” I say. “We got this.”

  The Blackity Bowl is silly and fun, and even though Natasha worked so hard this whole time, she seems to have the most fun now that everybody wins. All the competitors get giant crowns shaped like Sphinxes when it’s over.

  ***

  Marcus was right, after the showcase and everything are over, everyone gets on the dance floor, even Triphammer and Mrs. Triphammer, who we haven’t seen this whole time. The rumor was that she was a ghost that he talked to when he was alone. But she’s flesh and blood and really loves the Wobble.

  “Camp DuBois makes me happy!” I’m singing all the words now, and I got the dance down like everyone else.

  Charles gets all tongue-tied asking Michelle to dance, and she just takes his hand and starts dancing.

  “Want to dance?” asks Natasha. I look around for a group.

  “Just me?” I ask.

  “For now,” she says. “I’ve got lots of options and I intend to exercise them.” She smiles, and we hit the floor.

  “Oh, you think you got moves,” I say, and start going all out. I bump into someone; it’s Derek. “Oh—my bad,” I say.

  He nods. “No worries,” he says, not smiling. “Natasha, you know you would have won.” He dances over to the other side of her like we invited him to our personal dance party.

  She shrugs. “I like this better. Less pressure, more purpose.” Derek and I both shrug back and say, “Okay, whatever,” at the same time. There’s an awkward pause.

  “Uh, you guys keep um, cutting a rug, I’m going to get something to drink,” I say and walk away quickly. Cutting a rug? What if Charles has transferred some weird superpower to me, and I start talking like him every time I’m nervous? I guess worse things could happen to me. I drink down a cup of soda and talk with a few people from Street Style. Charles and Michelle now have everyone doing a move that I can only describe as Hot Coals Meets Poison Ivy dance because they’re jumping around and twisting and turning like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I know Michelle can do better than that, but she’s laughing, and so is Charles, and so is everyone.

  I start walking over to join in, then I see Luke across the room. Brant’s also a few feet away, and I wave. I drop my plastic cup in the recyclable bin under the watchful eyes of a crunchy granola looking girl with locs and thick leather sandals that look like monster feet. I give her a nod and the peace sign. Then I head toward my brother.

  Epilogue

  “No stalling this time,” says Brant. “You didn’t sign up in advance, and Dr. Triphammer will be furious if he finds out. So move it, I need to get over to the Main Hall for pickup.”

  “I’m ready,” I say. I stick a toe into the pool. “Wow, y’all turned off the heat already, huh.” I look out across the water. The pool seems huge.

  “The water is the same temperature it’s always been,” says Brant. “And if you want to take this test, you have to get going now. I know you can do this, but you gotta know you can do this.”

  I take a deep breath.

  “And I’m here, remember,” he says gently. “If anything happens, you get nervous, I’ll jump right in and get you. Nobody has to know. You were already brave to ask to try this again.”

  I nod and take another breath. Then I jump in and start swimming.

  ***

  It feels like it’s been forever. My arms are tired, my legs are tired, and I’m not breathing right. I slow down and pull myself together. I can swim. Brant said it’s okay to stop and tread water for a couple of minutes, so I stop swimming and pop my head out of the water. The other side still looks far. I turn back to look at Brant and—

  “YESSSSSS, EMMMETTTTT!” My friends are there on the grass, next to Brant, jumping up and down and cheering and screaming. I keep treading water and give them a little wave. Oh well. So much for my secret test. I guess if I fail, I fail in front of my friends. Brant is smiling and gives me a thumbs-up. More people hear the cheering and come over to the lake.

  I see Lance, who’s jumping in a way that means he’s either really excited for me, or that he has to pee. I see kids I don’t even know, they’re cheering too. Triple M is smiling and actually pumping his fist, and Marcus is clapping harder than ever. I guess if I fail, I fail in front of everyone.

  I put my head back in the water and keep going.

  Acknowledgments

  An abundance of gratitude to Kikelomo Amusa-Shonubi, Adedayo Rhuday Perkovich, DJ Johnson, and Batman, who entertained my endless “thinking out loud”s and “what do you think of …?”s and read, and read, and read. (Well, Batman didn’t read, because he’s a cat. But sometimes I caught him at the computer, so …)

  I’m abundantly grateful for brilliant storyteller friends like Dhonielle Clayton, Lamar Giles, Kelly Starling Lyons, Laura Pegram, Julia Torres, and Renée Watson; Tracey Baptiste, Kelly Barnhill, Martha Brockenbrough, Kate Messner, Laura Ruby, Laurel Snyder, Linda Urban, and Anne Ursu; Mike Jung, Ellen Oh, and Audrey Vernick. You are bright lights in my life and precious treasures in this world.

  I say a round of thank yous every day for Mar
ietta Zacker, who is so much more than an agent. Thank you for your incredibly generous spirit, wisdom, and humour; for believing that I can take on a challenge, and then helping me figure out just how to do it. You are someone in whom I have infinite trust and am honoured to call my friend.

  Much gratitude to Coert Voorhees, Vicky Wight and the Six Foot team for giving me wide open spaces to write in, and to Miles Brown and Skylan Brooks for the charming and nuanced performances that told inspiring stories of Black boy joy. An abundance of thanks to Arianne Lewin for her good humour, great questions, and total support all the way through, and Jody Corbett for her thoughtful and meticulous copyediting.

  Thank you, thank you, Gordon C. James, for the extraordinary cover art – it brought tears to my eyes.

  Thank you to all of the educators in classrooms, libraries, community centers, and in homes, who know the power of story and work so incredibly hard to help us hold onto that power and use it for growth, for change, for good. Most of all, thank you to the readers of all ages who open their hearts to my characters and their lives. Your stories are precious – let them shine.

  About the Author

  Olugbemisola Rhuday-Perkovich is the author of 8th Grade Superzero, which was named a Notable Book for a Global Society, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, an adaptation for Sesame Workshop’s Ghostwriter, and Operation Sisterhood. She is the coauthor of NAACP Image Award nominee Two Naomis, a Junior Library Guild selection, and its sequel, Naomis Too. She also writes nonfiction, including Above and Beyond: NASA’s Journey to Tomorrow, Someday is Now: Clara Luper and the 1958 Oklahoma City Sit-Ins, and Saving Earth: Climate Change and the Fight for Our Future.

  Olugbemisola is a member of the Brown Bookshelf, editor of the We Need Diverse Books anthology The Hero Next Door, and teaches at the Solstice MFA Program in Creative Writing. She holds an MA in education, and has written frequently on parenting and literacy-related topics for PBS Parents, Brightly, American Baby, Healthy Kids, and other outlets.

  Visit Olugbemisola online at:

  olugbemisolabooks.com

  and on Instagram:

  @olugbemisolarhudayperkovich

 

 

 


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