Man Trip Page 5

  Dang. I wanted her to see I caught a fish. I wanted Clarence to see it, too.

  After we ate, Mom brought out some cookies. “So, did you get pictures of your trip?”

  Pictures?

  She looked at Ledward. “You did bring a camera, didn’t you?”

  “Oops,” he said.

  Mom stared at him.

  Then at me.

  Then back at Ledward. “The biggest thing Calvin has done since he went to see Johnny at the auditorium and you didn’t take a camera?”

  Johnny was my dad—Little Johnny Coconut, a famous singer who had a hit song called “I Love Sunshine Pop.” He and my mom were divorced, and now he lived in Las Vegas.

  Ledward opened his hands. “Forgot.”

  “No,” Mom said. “You didn’t forget, because it was never in your head to begin with.”

  Ledward gave me a guilty look. “Sorry,” he said. “I should—”

  “I’ve got it all right here, Mom,” I said, tapping my head.

  Mom sighed.

  “Got to say good night,” Ledward said, pulling his keys out of his pocket. “I’m beat.”

  As we walked Ledward out through the garage, I saw a note stuck under my garage-bedroom door.

  I grabbed it.

  “What’s that?” Mom asked.

  I unfolded it. And groaned.

  Hi, Calvin.

  Here’s a frog for you. Without a bow. Do you like it?

  Your friend, you know who

  I handed Mom the paper.

  “How cute. Who’s your friend?”

  “Uh … a girl.”

  “Shayla?”

  I frowned. “She won’t leave me alone, Mom.”

  “She must like you, and I don’t blame her. You’re a sweetheart.”

  “Mom!”

  Ledward took the drawing from Mom. He looked up and winked at me.

  Great.

  “Did you get my note, Calvin?”

  It was Monday morning. I’d spent Sunday trying to tell Julio and Willy about my man trip. They shrugged it off, like, okay … so?

  They’d missed out on something big, so I guess I could understand why they didn’t get too excited about it. And maybe I sounded like I was bragging. But I’d tried not to.

  Anyway, I was sitting at my desk with Shayla glancing over to catch my eye so she could say something. I didn’t want my friends to see and make fun of it later.

  Shayla reached over and poked my arm. “Well?”

  “Why’d you come to my house?” I said it low, so Mr. Purdy wouldn’t hear.

  “I didn’t. I gave the note to Maya to give to you.”

  “Okay, fine, but … why?” I whispered a little too loud.

  Ace, who sat behind us, inched closer.

  I scooted my desk forward.

  Shayla didn’t seem to care about Ace. “So, did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Get my note.”

  Go away!

  Shayla wouldn’t stop. “I still want to know about the place you got your dog. Can you show me how to get there?”

  I wanted to yell, Please, Mr. Purdy, start the class! Give us math, give us geography, give us word problems, just do it now!

  “Ask your mom to take you,” I mumbled.

  “She can’t. She works.”

  “Your dad, then.”

  Shayla just looked at me, and I remembered Maya once said Shayla didn’t have a dad.

  I frowned at my desk.

  Shayla sat saying nothing for once.

  I thought: Man trip, man trip. Think of fishing. The big marlin came to mind. And the whale with the bills in it. And me in the fighting chair. Ho, yeah! What an awesome day!

  “Why are you smiling, Calvin?” Shayla asked.

  “Mr. Purdy,” I said, raising my hand. “Aren’t we supposed to start class now?”

  Mr. Purdy looked up from the papers he was sorting. He glanced at the clock. “You’re right, Calvin. I didn’t know you liked boot camp so much.”

  “Oh yeah, Mr. Purdy, I want to study stuff.”

  Mr. Purdy grinned. “I like that enthusiasm. Keep it up.”

  Boot camp was what he called our fourth-grade class, because Mr. Purdy had been in the army. Every third grader in school prayed they would get into Mr. Purdy’s boot camp.

  “All right, class, listen up. We have a special assignment today, one that involves teamwork.”

  The second he said teamwork I glanced over at Willy, Maya, Rubin, and Julio. My team.

  “But first,” Mr. Purdy went on, “Calvin is going to tell us about his trip to the Big Island.”

  “Uh … what?”

  “Remember we talked about that?”

  “Oh. Right.”

  Mr. Purdy sat on his desk and crossed his arms. “Stand up and face the class, Calvin. So we can hear you better. And speak up. We don’t want Rubin falling asleep back there.”

  Rubin pumped his fist in the air.

  I stood. “Yeah, um. On Saturday I went on a plane to the Big Island.”

  When I said plane the class mumbled things like Awesome; Ho, I like go on one, too.

  I decided to make my story more exciting.

  “The plane was fast! Like a rocket! And then we were so high I could see the whole island at one time, and I could look down into the ocean and see boats and reefs and stuff swimming around, like sharks and stingrays. And then, when we got to the Big Island … we landed on a lava flow.”

  That caused some grins.

  I nodded, getting into it. “And then I went fishing on a boat almost as long as this room.”

  Everyone looked around, nodding.

  “And I caught a fish called an ono, which looks like a barracuda, and if you know about fish it’s also called a wahoo.”

  “Wa-hooo!” Rubin called.

  Everyone laughed, even Mr. Purdy.

  “And we caught a marlin, a gigantic one—that’s a big fish with a bill like a spear on its nose. Man, that thing jumped all the way out of the water, and it was as big as a truck! It was so awesome! But those fish are dangerous, you know. They stab whales and get their bills stuck in them and die, and if they feel like it they can jump into your boat and kill you, too.”

  Some kids whooped and slapped high fives.

  “Calvin,” Mr. Purdy said. “Let’s try to keep the fish tales within the range of believability.”

  “Huh?”

  “So how big was the marlin?” Mr. Purdy asked. “How much did it weigh?”

  I scrunched my face. “Well, Baja Bill said it was about eight hundred pounds.”

  “Wow!” the whole class said.

  “But we let it go. After I tagged it. You know, for research.”

  “You tagged it yourself?” Mr. Purdy asked.

  “Uh-huh, and I cut the line and saved the lure, too. With a knife.”

  Mr. Purdy nodded. “Good! That’s what I’d do, Calvin. I’d let it go.”

  “Yeah, why kill it? Unless you make a living as a fisherman. And guess what? I touched it!” For a second, I remembered the marlin’s heat, its power. “It was …”

  How could I even describe it?

  Mr. Purdy slid off his desk. “It was an amazing day! Thank you, Calvin. That was very interesting. Now,” he said with a clap of his hands. “The special project: Mr. Purdy’s Awareness Walk.”

  I sat down.

  In my head I was still on the Kakalina. There was a lot more I wanted to say, like about the tuna head, and the sharks, and the marlin that got away.

  Shayla smiled at me.

  “There were birds, too,” I mumbled as I sat back down.

  Mr. Purdy went on. “With a partner, you will take a notebook outside and walk around the schoolyard and record all that you see. You can write down things you think about, too. The idea is to be more aware of what surrounds you, and how you respond to it. Often we just go through our lives without even noticing the world around us. I want you to stop and smell the roses.”
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br />   Roses? All we had outside was weeds.

  “We’ll work in teams of two,” Mr. Purdy said.

  The class erupted. Everyone turned to call or wave to a friend. I tried to catch somebody’s eye.

  “Sssss,” Mr. Purdy hissed, for silence. “Settle down, boot campers. I’ve already worked it out. Partner up with the person next to you.”

  Next to—

  No, Mr. Purdy, no.

  “One of you will make the observations and the other will record them. Talk with your partner and decide who will do what. We’ll head outside in two minutes.”

  Shayla grabbed her notebook and pencil. “I’ll record and you observe.” She smiled and stood up. “Well?”

  What a weird project.

  Who creeps around their school looking at stuff? And while I was staring at weeds, guys like Baja Bill were out fishing. Who’s got the better deal?

  “Uhh … no-brainer,” I mumbled.

  Shayla looked at me. “What?”

  “Huh?”

  She shrugged, and stuck to me like a shadow. “What should I write down, Calvin? There’s so much.”

  “So much?” I glanced around. “There’s nothing.”

  “Sure there is,” she said. “We can write down: buildings, trees, grass, dirt, sky, walkways, the cafeteria. Lots of stuff.”

  “How boring is that? It’s stuff that’s always here. There’s nothing new.”

  “Mr. Purdy didn’t say to just write new things.”

  “He said to smell the roses. And I don’t see any.”

  “Let’s go out by the back fence,” Shayla said. “Maybe we can find something new there.”

  I squinted at her.

  Shayla smiled.

  On the other side of the big fence was a big field. Beyond that was the middle school. “You could write down: old fence, big field, and middle school, I guess.”

  “Those are new?” Shayla said.

  I eyed her. “You find something new, then.”

  She tapped her pencil on her teeth. “Um … how about different, instead of new?”

  “Like what?”

  She shrugged. “You find it. You’re really smart.”

  I crossed my arms and gave her big-time stink eye. “Are you making fun of me?”

  Her jaw dropped. “I’d never do that!”

  I studied her.

  “I do think you’re smart.”

  She was telling the truth. I could tell. Shayla wasn’t mean. She showed off. She sat up too straight. She always raised her hand right away. She drew dumb frogs on everything.

  But Shayla was never mean.

  I looked away. “Okay. Write down … um.” I looked down. “Ants.”

  Shayla squatted down to look. “Good!” She wrote ants in her notebook. “What else?”

  I got down next to her and looked closer. “Cock-a-roach. There. See it? And a nickel.” I stuck it in my pocket.

  Shayla wrote them down.

  “Rust on the fence? Mynah birds, doves. Sleeping grass. A soda can. And this.” I pinched up a cigarette butt.

  “Yick.”

  I dropped it.

  Shayla scribbled that down and waited for more. That was when I noticed: Shayla wasn’t being pushy. She wasn’t bothering me.

  “What else, Calvin?”

  I looked around. Out in the field I spotted a rubber slipper. Weird. How could you lose one slipper and keep on going?

  “One brown rubber slipper.”

  “Oh, that’s good how you added brown.” She wrote it down.

  “How about lost brown rubber slipper?”

  “Yeah, lost!”

  I smiled. Then caught myself and scowled.

  “So you went fishing,” Shayla said. “Was it fun? What you said in class was really interesting.”

  I looked at her. “You like deep-sea fishing?”

  “Maybe. I’ve never been on a fishing boat. But if I caught a fish, I could never kill it. I’d let it go. Just like you did.”

  I puffed up. “Yeah. To fight and catch a fish is enough. Then you throw it back. How could you take a fish as beautiful as a marlin from the sea?”

  I winced. Did I really say beautiful? Guys don’t say something is beautiful. Had Baja Bill said that?

  Shayla stopped and turned to me. “What did you just say?”

  “Uh … to fight a fish is enough?”

  “No, you said it was beautiful.”

  “Hey!” I shouted, spotting Julio and Maya. I turned and headed toward them.

  Shayla hurried to catch up. “That was a really nice thing to say, Calvin. About the fish.”

  “Don’t tell anyone I said that, okay?”

  “Why?”

  “It’s embarrassing, that’s why, so just don’t.”

  “Okay, it’s our secret.”

  I stopped. “Really? You won’t tell?”

  “Never.” She pulled a zipper across her lips with her fingers.

  At home that afternoon after school, I stood in the yard with Streak. The lawn mower was exactly where I’d left it days ago. If I waited even one more hour the grass would be impossible to cut, maybe even with a tractor. We’d have to fence it off and bring in the cows.

  Also, I felt bad that Mom had to keep telling me to do it. Ledward was right. She did count on me to help around the house.

  “I’ve run out of time, Streak. I gotta do it. Want to help me look for bufos?”

  Streak tilted her head.

  I puffed up my cheeks and blew the air out slowly.

  Streak sniffed the grass and jumped when a toad leaped out and headed toward the river. Streak barked and followed it. The toad disappeared into the swamp grass.

  I toed out three of them and watched Streak bark them to the river.

  It took ten minutes just to get the lawn mower started. It coughed to life, the noise roaring through our peaceful neighborhood like a jet flying super-low. Streak ducked her head and shrank around to the back of the house.

  Pushing the mower into that thick grass was like riding a ten-speed bike on the beach.

  The biggest toad I’d seen in my life leaped out of the grass in front of me and charged downhill. Scared me spitless!

  There were still bufos in the grass.

  I shut the engine off.

  It was so quiet, just like when we got off Baja Bill’s boat.

  “All right, toads. Wake up. All of you.”

  I started searching with my feet.

  “Ack!”

  I squatted down to dig out the squishy thing under my bare foot. It was way down where the grass was wet. I pried it out and picked it up. It was soft and rubbery, with a beating heart. I stared into its face. “Were you ever in an alien movie?”

  It blinked.

  “I know someone who thinks you guys are cute.”

  I stood.

  “Bye-bye,” I said, and reached my arm back to throw Mr. Bufo into the river.

  I stopped and looked at him again.

  And you know what? He smiled at me. No joke. The look on his face was like, Howzit? Or Wassup?

  Jeese.

  “So maybe Tito had it wrong, huh?” I said.

  I carried him to the water and let him swim out of my hand.

  Seventeen.

  That’s how many I carried to the river.

  Seventeen smiling bufos who didn’t get shredded, whose guts did not end up on my feet.

  And then I cut the grass.

  That night Ledward came over for another night of ono, cooked on the hibachi. This time he marinated it in shoyu, sugar, and ginger, and boy, was it good.

  And of course, me and Ledward told Mom, Darci, and Stella about our incredible day with Baja Bill all over again.

  Stella said we were boring her to death and went to her room.

  Darci yawned and turned on the TV.

  Only Mom listened to all of it.

  At bedtime, I flipped off the light and climbed to the top bunk. Streak curled up on the bunk below. Even she
was tired of hearing about our man trip.

  I lay on my side in the dark, looking out the window.

  The moon cast long night shadows across the driveway and Ledward’s jeep. The sweet smell of fresh-cut grass drifted in through the screen.

  I had a front-row seat for the sounds of a bazillion insects and other creatures that took over the neighborhood at night, probably even the seventeen toads I’d rescued.

  Some guys I knew would laugh their heads off if they ever heard about that. Rescuing toads? Next thing you knew I’d be calling them beautiful. Man, was I losing it.

  But so what? Toads deserved to live, too.

  Shayla would go nuts if she ever heard I’d tossed some in the river.

  Someone came out the kitchen door into the garage.

  Ledward headed out to his jeep and got in. For a minute, he sat back and looked out toward the yard.

  He got out and walked toward my window. Quietly, he said, “Boy. You still awake?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Come outside.”

  I slipped off my bunk and went outside. “What?”

  “You did it,” Ledward said. “You cut the grass.”

  “I had to. I don’t know anybody who has cows.”

  Ledward laughed. “Sorry if I woke you.”

  “I was just lying there listening to the bugs.”

  “Quite a symphony, huh?”

  I nodded.

  “What did you do with the bufos in the grass?”

  “Found them with my feet and let them go in the river. I guess throwing them could … you know, like you said … hurt them.”

  We stood looking at the moonlit river.

  Toads croaked, bugs buzzed. It all felt so much closer in the dark, a whole different world. It was alive. I could almost feel the bellies of the bufos I’d held. Soft, with beating hearts. And warm, like the marlin.

  “All that life out there.” Ledward put his hand on my shoulder. “Pretty amazing.”

  I listened.

  “Hey,” Ledward said. “You want to take a walk?”

  “Now? In the dark?”

  “Why not?”

  I grinned. “Yeah. Why not?”

  We headed down the street. Lights were still on down at Julio’s house, but most of the houses were dark. It was fun to go for a walk when everyone else was falling asleep.