Trouble Magnet Read online

  I scratched my head like I was confused, buying time. Think, think. “Uh, uh, the cop was funny, Tito, not you.”

  Tito eyed me. How come I was the one to speak up? I should have let Julio do it. I searched for more.

  “Uh … uh, the cop had … uh … he had a hole in his pants … in the butt.”

  “Why you tell me that? You think I'm stupit?”

  “No, Tito. For real. It was a big hole, and you could see his underpants.”

  Julio snorted.

  “Yeah?” Tito said. “Okay, what color was his underpants, ah? Tell me that.”

  “Uh … blue.”

  Tito's eyes narrowed to slits.

  Maya stared at Tito, unafraid. Tito ignored her.

  Julio jumped in to change the subject. “What did the cop want, Tito?”

  Tito shrugged. “They thought I took something.”

  “Did you?”

  Tito grabbed Julio's shirt. “You accusing me?”

  “No—no, Tito, I never.” Julio threw up his hands in surrender.

  I stepped in. “They got it wrong … right?”

  Tito let go of Julio and got down into my face. “I know you was laughing at me, Coco-dork. You lucky I'm in a good mood right now, because if I wasn't, I would mess you up.” He spat on the grass. “You see me in school tomorrow, stay out of my way.”

  “Sure, Tito, no problem.”

  He walked away, glaring over his shoulder.

  I should have kept my mouth shut.

  Julio fell back, spread-eagle on the grass. “Ho, man, we almost got killed!”

  “He doesn't scare me,” Maya said.

  I cringed. Now Tito was going to watch us like a shark. We'd just put ourselves on his radar.

  Be-beep. Be-beep. Be-beep.

  I groaned when my alarm went off at six-thirty the next morning.

  I covered my head with my pillow.

  It was Friday. Meet Your Teacher Day.

  Real school started on Monday.

  Be-beep. Be-beep.

  “All right, all right.”

  The clock was on the windowsill, leaning against the screen. I had bunk beds and slept on the top, so I had to reach down to slap it off.

  I got up and pulled on my jeans, then dug around for my special Little Johnny Coconut T-shirt. Might as well start fourth grade right.

  I grabbed my new backpack and headed for the door.

  It wouldn't open. Dang. Locked in again. I got my pocketknife and jimmied it into the thumb lock.

  The lock popped open. “Yes!”

  Darci was standing on a stool in the bathroom trying to brush her hair. I squeezed in next to her and found my toothbrush. “How come Mom's not doing that for you?”

  “She said I had to learn how to brush it myself.”

  I did my teeth and tossed the toothbrush back into the drawer. Darci's brush got tangled in her hair and she couldn't get it out.

  “Want some help?”

  Darci dropped her hands. The brush stayed in her hair.

  I worked the brush out slowly and handed it back to her. “Put water on it first. I saw Mom do that.”

  Darci stuck it under the tap and tried again. It worked.

  “There you go.”

  I went into the kitchen.

  “Congratulations!” Mom said. “You passed the alarm clock test. It's a big day, Cal.”

  “Yeah, sure.” I said it like it didn't matter. I couldn't sound all excited, like some small kid. I grabbed the orange juice out of the fridge and guzzled it right from the carton.

  “Calvin!” Mom snapped.

  “Sorry.” I put the juice back.

  “Listen,” Mom said. “I'll drop you and Darci off on my way to work, but you have to walk her home after school. I'll be back around six.” Mom worked at Macy's in the Ala Moana Shopping Center on the other side of the island.

  “I want you to keep an eye on her until I get home. Can I count on you, Calvin?”

  “Sure, Mom.” The walk home was only a mile or so.

  “When Stella gets here, she'll watch Darci after school. But today she's your respon sibility.”

  “I can do it.”

  “Just don't forget… Oh, and Ledward's coming over this afternoon to help you clean out the storage room.”

  I scowled, remembering. I had to move in with the roaches, spiders, lizards, ants, earwigs, mice, centipedes, and wet-cardboard stink. “Mom, why can't Stella and Darci share a—”

  “No, Cal.”

  I sighed. “Fine.”

  “Please walk Darci to her class this morning, too. Just for today, so she knows where to go.”

  “Sure.”

  Mom smiled. “Thank you, Calvin. I need your help.”

  “I know, Mom.”

  She brushed my cheek with the back of her fingers. “You're excited about fourth grade, aren't you?”

  “Yeah, Mom. That's me … excited.”

  On my way out to the car, I remembered the centipede. The jar was still on the garbage can. The centipede didn't look so good. Maybe it needed air. Or food. What did those things eat, anyway?

  I quickly stuffed the jar into my backpack. If Mom saw me with a centipede, she'd make me squish it.

  “Darci's teacher's name is Ms. Wing,” Mom said when she dropped us off at Kailua Elementary. “I called her last night and told her you would be bringing Darci to class, since I can't.”

  “I know what to do, Mom.”

  “That's my boy!”

  We waved as she drove off. “Let's do it, Darce.”

  Ms. Wing was standing at the door to Darci's new class room. She was Chinese, like Maya. Her super-shiny black hair flowed all the way down her back. Wow, I thought. She looks like she just stepped out of one of Mom's magazines.

  Darci looked up at her.

  “Uh … this is Darci,” I said. “She's in your class.”

  Ms. Wing leaned over with her hands on her knees. “Good morning, Darci. I'm Ms. Wing, and I'm so happy to have you in my class.”

  Darci opened and closed her mouth, like a fish.

  I nudged her with my elbow.

  “Hi,” Darci squeaked.

  “I'm her brother.”

  Ms. Wing stood and reached out to shake hands. “Nice to meet you, Darci's brother.”

  We shook. Ms. Wing looked at the list of student names taped to the door. “Let's see … Darci, Darci. Oh, you are Little Johnny Coconut's daughter.”

  Darci beamed. “He's a singer.”

  Ms. Wing sang, “‘A little bit of la-la-la-love’ … that was a very popular song!”

  “I gotta go,” I said, before she sang more.

  “Thank you for bringing Darci to class, Darci's brother.”

  “No problem.”

  On the way to Mr. Purdy's room, I ran into Julio and three of his four younger brothers-Marcus, Diego, and Carlos. “Scat!” Julio told them. “Find your classrooms.” They ran off. “If my mom has one more kid I'm moving into our fort.”

  “I have to move into my garage.”

  “That junky storage room?”

  “Uh-huh … some girl is coming to live with us.”

  “What girl?”

  I shrugged. “Hey, look at this place.”

  Kids were everywhere, running and shouting and raising dust all over the playground.

  “Like a party,” Julio said.

  “You think Mr. Purdy will let us sit together?”

  “We can ask.”

  “Yeah, let's.” I studied the dusty playground. “You see Sinbad?”

  “Shhh. Don't call him that. What if you say it to his face?”

  “No way.”

  Julio tapped my arm. “There's Rubin and Maya. Hey! Over here!”

  I hadn't seen Rubin Tomioka in two months. He didn't live on our street, and anyway, his parents sent him to Japan in the summer to live with his grandparents and learn Japanese. Rubin was always in a good mood.

  I lifted my chin as he and Maya walked up. “Hey. Che
ck this out.”

  I pulled the peanut butter jar out of my backpack and raised it to my eyes. The centi pede was curled around the bottom.

  Julio stepped back. “Why'd you bring that?”

  “I like it.”

  “Holy cow!” Rubin said. “He's big! Where'd you get it?”

  “I caught it in my … my new bedroom.”

  Maya shuddered. “I'd move out. That's too creepy.”

  The bell rang. I stuffed the jar away.

  Maya looked worried. “What if it gets loose in your backpack?”

  “No,” Julio said. “What if it gets loose in class?”

  Mr. Purdy had arms so strong they looked like they could crush rocks. His thick neck grew out of a bright green silk shirt that hung out over khaki pants. His black hair was buzzed, army style.

  Mr. Purdy smiled as we walked up. “Mr. Coconut, Mr. Reyes, Mr. Tomioka, and our skateboard wizard, Miss Medeiros. You all finally made it to fourth grade.”

  “Hi, Mr. Purdy,” we said.

  Rubin bounced on his toes. He just couldn't stand still.

  “You know my classroom isn't the playground, right?” Mr. Purdy asked.

  “Yes, Mr. Purdy,” we said.

  “Whew!” Mr. Purdy pretended to wipe his brow with relief. “I'm sure glad to hear that, because when I saw your names on my class list, I thought I might have to install a cage in the back of the room, just for you knuckle-heads—but not you, Maya.”

  We grinned. We knew Mr. Purdy from out on the playground. Last year at recess he was always yelling, “Hey! You boys are playing too rough! Cool your jets! You hear me? This isn't a combat zone.”

  But Mr. Purdy never stayed mad. Sometimes he would pull up his sleeve and let us look at the tattoo on his arm. U.S. ARMY was written in a banner under a scowling eagle.

  Julio nudged me.

  “Oh yeah, uh, Mr. Purdy, can me and Julio sit together?” I asked, fingers crossed.

  Mr. Purdy leaned close and whispered, “Not on your life.”

  “Huh?”

  “I've already assigned seats,” Mr. Purdy said, straightening back up. “Your names are on your desks. But if you two can go a week without getting into trouble, maybe I'll reconsider your request.”

  Good enough. We could do that.

  Julio gave me a thumbs-up.

  We went in.

  Hoo, that room was yappy as a mynah bird tree. I covered my ears.

  Fourth grade!

  I saw Doreen, Ace, Kai, Levi, Emmy, and Reba. They were in my room last year. And Shayla, wearing a pink dress.

  I winced and ducked behind Julio. For some reason, Shayla liked me. Last year she wouldn't leave me alone. Julio called her Shayla the Snoop because she was so nosy. I crossed my fingers that maybe there was a mile between her desk and mine.

  Julio nudged me. “Look.”

  A new kid was standing off by himself. He looked like he might barf any minute.

  “He just moved in next door to me,” Maya said. “He kinda … stands out.”

  “No kidding.”

  The new kid was blond, a haole, a white boy. Everyone else in Mr. Purdy's class had black or brown hair. In fact, in the whole school there were only about ten kids with blond hair.

  “What's his name?” I asked.

  Maya shrugged. “All I know is he's from California.”

  Cool. California.

  “Hey.” I pulled the jar out of my backpack.

  “Anybody know what these things eat?”

  “Ants,” Maya said.

  Julio shook his head. “No. People. Keep that lid on tight.”

  I loosened the lid.

  “Don't!” Julio jumped back. “You want it to escape?”

  “It needs air. Look, it's dying.”

  “It's faking. Just look at it through the glass.”

  Mr. Purdy clapped his hands. I put the centipede away. “All right,” Mr. Purdy said. “Take your seats.”

  We scrambled to find our desks.

  I got lucky. Mine was up front by the window, and next to Ace, who was a good guy. Shayla was on the other side of Ace. Way too close.

  “Hey,” I said to Ace.

  “Hey.”

  I looked to see where Julio and Rubin were.

  Ho! Mr. Purdy had placed us three in opposite corners of the room, as far away from each other as possible. The fourth corner went to the new kid.

  “Welcome to fourth grade!” Mr. Purdy said. “Or, as I like to say, welcome to boot camp, where at the end of the year, you will be all that you can be. Are you ready?”

  “Boot camp! Boot camp!” we all chanted.

  I looked at Julio way in the back.

  He pumped his fist.

  “Sssssss,” Mr. Purdy hissed through his teeth.

  Everyone stopped joking and turned to look at Mr. Purdy. Awesome, I thought. He hisses like a snake.

  “When you hear that sound, what does it mean?”

  Rubin bounced up and waved. “It means shut your yaps!”

  The class roared. “Bingo,” Mr. Purdy said. “Looks like you got a little smarter since I saw you last, Mr. Tamioka.”

  Rubin turned red. He sat down and fiddled with something on his desk.

  I fiddled with something, too.

  It needs air. It's dying.

  Just a little crack of air.

  The centipede was lying on its back with its hundred feet in the air.

  Maybe Julio was right, and it would jump out.

  But it looked dead. I'd killed it.

  I glanced up when Mr. Purdy said, “If you haven't met him yet, this is Willy. His family just moved to Kailua from … was it Los Angeles, Willy?”

  Everyone looked at Willy.

  “Pasadena,” he mumbled without looking up.

  “Right,” Mr. Purdy said. “Pasadena is in Los Angeles County, which is in Southern California. Has anyone here been to California?”

  No one raised a hand. I sure hadn't, though Dad had said to come visit the mainland sometime. Rubin had been to Japan, but that was it. Some kids in that classroom probably hadn't even been on a car ride to Honolulu.

  I leaned forward and peeked down the front row. The new kid was staring at his desktop.

  “Good to have you in our class, Willy,” Mr. Purdy said.

  Willy nodded.

  I turned back to the centipede. Slowly, I unscrewed the lid all the way and looked down into the jar.

  The centipede sprang to its feet, slithered up the inside of the jar and out onto my wrist.

  Yah!

  I froze, gaping as it snaked over my hand and dropped into my lap.

  “Mr. Coconut,” Mr. Purdy said. “Is something going on over there that's more interesting than I am?”

  I looked up, my mouth half open.

  “Calvin?”

  I looked down. The centipede scurried over my shorts, down my leg to my foot, and onto the floor. It zipped under the desk behind me, heading through a forest of wiggly legs. And only I knew it.

  “Mr. Coconut!” Mr. Purdy snapped.

  I was too stunned to answer.

  Mr. Purdy shook his head. “Ace, will you please change seats with Shayla.” It was a command, not a question.

  Ace got up and moved.

  Shayla plopped her books on the desk next to me.

  “Hi, Calvin,” she said. “Did you have a nice summer?”

  “Uhnn.”

  Mr. Purdy was brutal.

  He turned back to the class. “Now might be a good time to bring up the subject of responsibility. Your whole fourth-grade experience will be based on it. Who can tell me what responsibility means?”

  Hands went up. But not mine.

  “Mr. Coconut, what does responsibility mean?”

  “Uh … it means … take out the garbage?”

  The class exploded in laughter.

  Even Mr. Purdy smiled. “That was one of my responsibilities when I was a kid, too,” he said. “Still is.”

  I tried to
smile, too, but I was going crazy thinking about that centipede. Was it smart enough not to crawl over somebody's foot and start a riot?

  Mr. Purdy went on. “By responsibility I mean I'm going to hold you responsible for doing your best in this class. Respect me, respect each other, and respect yourselves. Give me the best you have in you, and I'll give you the best I have in me. Is it a deal?”

  “Deal!” everyone shouted.

  I plastered Mom's fake smile on my face and tried to look like I knew what was going on. But in my mind I was down on the floor looking under all those desks.

  Where.

  Was.

  It?

  I had three brand-new pencils in my backpack. I took them out, lined them up on my desk, and glanced back at Mr. Purdy, who was handing out papers to take home.

  With my finger, I nudged the pencils toward the edge of the desk.

  Closer, closer.

  The pencils clattered onto the floor.

  Mr. Purdy turned.

  “Oops. My pencils.”

  Mr. Purdy turned back, shaking his head.

  I got down on my hands and knees to pick them up. Too easy. They were right by my feet. I needed more time down there. I flicked them farther away.

  Here, peedy, peedy, peedy, I said in my brain, like mental telepathy. Where are you? I winced when I saw something stuck to Shayla's shoe. But it was just muddy grass.

  Here, peedy, pe-

  There!

  Not squished. It was moving along the wall, back by Rubin's desk. “Pssst.” I tried to get Rubin's attention, but he was gazing out the window, picking his nose.

  “Rubin,” I whispered.

  I pushed my pencils back toward the centipede.

  “Calvin.”

  I looked up. Mr. Purdy was standing over me. “Is this some kind of a pencil race?”

  I shot up and banged my head on Kai's desk. Oww.”

  “What are you doing, Calvin?” Kai said.

  Everyone laughed.

  “Back to your seat,” Mr. Purdy said. “Now!”

  I grabbed my pencils and took one last glance at the centipede.

  Gone!

  Mr. Purdy headed to the front of the room, holding up two fingers. “Two things,” he said. “Rules. And lunch.”

  Rubin took his finger out of his nose. “Lunch?”