Kung Fooey Page 5

  “What I think,” Clarence said, “is that guys like that … they unsure of themselves. They just trying to figure it out.”

  “Figure what out?”

  Clarence shrugged. “Life, I guess.”

  I nodded but didn’t really understand. “I can’t wait to drive.”

  Clarence chuckled. “You like sit behind the wheel?”

  “Ho, yeah! Can I?”

  “Get in.”

  Clarence opened the door of his big pink car and I slipped into the driver’s seat. I gripped the steering wheel in both hands. I stretched to see over the hood. “This is a big car.”

  “How they made these old ones.”

  No wonder Stella hit stuff in it. You couldn’t even see.

  Clarence looked toward the house. “Stella told me: go wait by the car, I coming right out. That was ten minutes ago.”

  I laughed. “Here’s a secret: pretend you don’t care.”

  Clarence raised an eyebrow. “How come?”

  “Your life will be better.”

  “Good call.”

  Benny Obi was prob’ly home figuring out life, because the next day he wasn’t at school.

  “Settle down, class,” Mr. Purdy said as school started. “This morning we’re going to take a few minutes to talk about the nasty R. It’s nasty because we don’t want any part of it in our school. Anyone care to guess what it is?”

  I was slumping in my chair, the hot morning sun pouring through the open window.

  Rubin’s hand shot up. “Reading?”

  Mr. Purdy stared at Rubin.

  “Oh … yeah,” Rubin said. “We like reading.”

  Hmmm. What starts with R and is nasty? “Rats?” I said.

  Mr. Purdy smiled. “We have rats here, Calvin?”

  “Uh … I don’t think so.”

  “No, we don’t have rats. The nasty R I’m talking about, class, is ridicule … because we have a problem.”

  That got me sitting up straight.

  The room got quiet. Very quiet.

  Mr. Purdy folded his arms and studied us. “It seems some people in this school have been giving our newest student a hard time.”

  Heads turned toward Benny Obi’s empty seat.

  “Yes,” Mr. Purdy said. “He’s not here today, is he? Does anyone have an idea why?”

  Silence like the bottom of the sea.

  “Ridicule,” Mr. Purdy went on. “Disrespect. Bullying. Know what those are, class?”

  A few mumbles and nods. Shuffling of feet. Staring at hands.

  “Something happened on the playground yesterday. We don’t know exactly what, but we have an idea who was involved. If anyone cares to talk about it, come see me later. But here’s the thing: I know that my students—even those of you who might have been there—don’t ridicule anyone. We don’t disrespect anyone, or tease anyone, or make fun of anyone. We respect and support each other, even if someone is different from us. Isn’t that right?”

  Everyone nodded.

  Mr. Purdy looked us over, every one of us. He didn’t look mad, just serious. “Thank you,” he said finally. “I’m counting on you. You are much better than what went on yesterday. I know this, because I believe in you and expect you to uphold the standards of Mr. Purdy’s fourth-grade boot camp wherever you are.”

  Mr. Purdy let that sink in.

  After a long moment of silence, Ace raised his hand. “Is Benny coming back, Mr. Purdy?”

  “I sure hope so, Ace.”

  Man, I thought. If I were Benny Obi would I come back? It would be so hard. You’d have to face everyone knowing you’d made a fool of yourself after they’d seen that you didn’t know kung fu and had run away.

  Ace nodded. “Me too, Mr. Purdy.”

  At recess, I was sitting in the shade with Julio, Willy, and Rubin.

  “I still can’t believe he ate bugs,” Willy said.

  Julio tossed a pebble and searched the dry grass for another one. “He did it to get attention. That’s what my dad said.”

  I looked at Julio. “You told your dad?”

  Julio shrugged.

  “Did you tell him about Tito, too?”

  “Yeah. I felt kind of bad, you know? I mean, sure Benny made the kung fu thing up, but he didn’t deserve to be pushed around by some … some—”

  “Bully,” I said.

  “I kind of liked Benny,” Willy said. “He always had something crazy to say or do. He wasn’t boring.”

  We all nodded.

  Then clammed up when three shadows fell over us.

  Tito kicked my foot. “Where’s Kung Fu-Fu? I don’t see him here today. Me and him’s got more business.”

  I shaded my eyes and looked up. Bozo and Frankie Diamond stood behind him. Tito raised an eyebrow.

  “He didn’t come to school today,” I said.

  Tito smirked. “Scared, ah?”

  “You didn’t have to do what you did to him,” Julio said.

  Ho, Julio!

  Tito glared at Julio. “You like I do it to you, too, punk? ‘Cause I can. I make you one sissy-fu, too.”

  Julio stood.

  Tito took a step toward him.

  I sprang up and put my hand on Tito’s chest. I didn’t think. It just happened. “No, Tito.”

  Tito looked at my hand. “Whatchoo think you’re doing?”

  Yeah, what?

  “If you were me,” I said, not moving my hand, “would you sit here and let someone like you push your friend around?”

  Willy got up, too.

  Tito’s eyes drilled into mine, his face stone cold. Bozo and Frankie Diamond stepped closer.

  I’m dead, I thought. Prob’ly Willy and Julio, too.

  Tito poked my chest with his finger. “You got guts, Coco-punk. I respect that.”

  I let my hand drop.

  Tito gave me a long look and nodded. The three big guys slouched away, walking and talking tough.

  I let out a breath.

  “Man, Calvin,” Julio said. “Where did that come from?”

  I held out my hand. “Look at my fingers.”

  They were trembling like Clarence’s idling car.

  That night Mom brought home a cherry pie with vanilla ice cream and a postcard. The picture on the postcard was of Kailua Bay. The colors were way brighter than you ever saw them in real life.

  She handed the postcard to Stella. “After we celebrate your driver’s license victory, send your mom this card and share the news. I’ve already stamped and addressed it for you.”

  Stella took the postcard. She turned it over, studied the front again, then handed it back to Mom. “She doesn’t care, so I don’t need this.”

  “Of course she cares!” Mom said.

  Stella just looked at her.

  “Your mom loves you, Stella. I know that.”

  Stella frowned and snapped the card out of Mom’s hand.

  Later, when Mom told me to take the trash out to the garage, I found the postcard in the trash bag.

  I stuck it in my pocket.

  When school started the next day, Benny Obi’s desk still sat vacant. Was he scared to come to school because of Tito? Was he embarrassed? Even Julio kept glancing at the door to see if he’d show up.

  Mr. Purdy was writing math problems on the whiteboard.

  “Where’s Benny, Mr. Purdy?” Shayla finally asked. “Have you heard from him?”

  Mr. Purdy finished the problem he’d begun, then put the marker on the tray and turned to face us. “I was going to give it another day or two before I said anything,” he said with a sigh. “But I don’t think it’s going to change.” He shook his head.

  What was he talking about?

  “Benny isn’t coming back. He’s transferred to another school.”

  What?

  A deep hush fell over the classroom.

  Mr. Purdy sat on the edge of his desk and looked at us until we started to fidget. “We still don’t know why he left. His parents didn’t say. But if any of yo
u has an idea, I hope you will consider talking to me about it. Kailua Elementary is a great school, and I personally want to do everything I can to keep it that way.”

  I still felt squirmy inside. I wanted to tell him what happened. But I didn’t, too. If we told him about Tito, and Tito got in trouble, things would get worse. No, there was a better way. Stand by your friends in the first place, and don’t let guys like Tito get in their face.

  Mr. Purdy took a deep breath and let it out through puffed cheeks. He clapped once. “Take out a clean sheet of paper, boot campers. We have work to do.”

  When I reached into my desk I got the surprise of my life.

  My jaw dropped.

  What?

  It was a picture. There was a yellow sticky note on it.

  He was good. I liked his show.

  It was good meeting you, too.

  I hope you liked the Antlix.

  Laters.

  I peeled the sticky note away and studied the man looking back at me in the shiny autographed black-and-white photograph.

  Rock on, Benny Obi!

  Little Johnny Coconut

  When I got home from school I went straight to my bedroom, propped Benny’s photo of my dad up on my desk, and sat on my lower bunk staring at it.

  Rock on, Benny Obi!

  He’d really done it. He’d actually seen Little Johnny Coconut in Las Vegas. He hadn’t lied. He hadn’t made it up.

  Boy, did I feel small.

  Benny Obi, why were you so weird? How did you get that picture in my desk at school? Why did you change schools?

  And why did you tell Tito you knew kung fu? That was really dumb, Benny. You should have …

  No.

  We should have stepped up for you.

  Streak scratched at my door. I got up to let her in.

  “Wassup, dog?”

  I flopped back down on my lower bunk. Streak jumped up and lay next to me. I closed my eyes. Benny Obi had given me his special autographed photo. And he’d found a way to sneak it into my desk without anyone seeing him. You don’t do stuff like that for just anybody.

  I sighed and put my hand on Streak’s head. “I messed up, girl.”

  Streak licked my hand.

  I just wanted to lie there. I didn’t feel like doing anything.

  When I finally opened my eyes I noticed the postcard on my desk, the one Stella had thrown in the trash.

  I got up and stood looking down at it.

  Kailua Bay never looked so good as it did in that picture on the card. An idea popped into my head.

  Could I?

  I frowned and searched for a pen.

  Just do it.

  Dear Mom,

  I got my driver’s license! I like driving. Mrs. Coconut says I’m pretty good at it. Calvin and Darci think so, too. Well, I just thought you’d like to know. I’m fine. How are you?

  Love,

  Stella

  I had no idea why I wrote that. It just came out. It’s like what Mr. Purdy told us about writing a story. Even though you might not know exactly what your story is about, or where it’s going, once you start writing, stuff happens. It’s magic.

  Or dumb.

  Now what?

  I moved Benny Obi’s Little Johnny Coconut photograph next to my own Little Johnny Coconut photograph and stuck the postcard in my back pocket.

  As I was heading out of my room, Clarence drove up in his big pink car. Stella was with him.

  I went out into the sun.

  Clarence lifted his chin, Hey.

  I nodded back.

  Stella got out with her books. She thunked the car door shut and leaned into the open window. “Thanks for the ride. Call me.”

  Clarence winked, backed out, and drove off with a short toot of the horn.

  Stella and I watched him drive away.

  Then she seemed to realize for the first time that I was standing next to her. “Why are you here?”

  “Why not?”

  She squinted. “You’re pushing it, Stump.”

  “Why not?”

  Stella banged past me, heading through the garage and into the house. I followed her, catching the door as it was about to slam into my face. “Hey!”

  “Sorry,” she said in fake surprise. “I didn’t see you. Oh, that’s why … I forgot. You shrunk.”

  Stella laughed and dropped her books on the kitchen counter.

  “Why are you following me around?”

  “Why not?”

  “This is why not,” she said, moving toward me. “I don’t like it; it’s annoying; you’re getting on my nerves. Beat it.”

  “Fine. But I have something for you.”

  “And what might that be?” Stella eyed me.

  I pulled the postcard out of my back pocket and handed it to her. “You should send this to your mom.”

  Stella read it.

  She held it a long time, just looking at it.

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Stump …”

  I waited, nervous about what I’d done.

  Stella opened her eyes and held the card up close to my face. She ripped it in half. “Mind your own business.”

  The postcard, now in two pieces, went back into the trash under the sink.

  I bit my lower lip.

  Another dumb idea.

  Five minutes after me, Willy, and Julio walked into the schoolyard the next day, Tito and his doofy shadows came up and got in my face.

  “Where’s Kung Fu-Fu? How come I don’t see him here? Where he’s at, ah? Hiding from me? Crying to his mommy? Tell me, you so brave.”

  Bozo and Frankie Diamond closed in on the sides.

  Julio and Willy stepped back.

  “He’s gone,” I said. “Because of you.”

  Tito grinned. “You kine of cocky today, ah?”

  “You didn’t have to embarrass him.”

  Tito poked my chest with his finger. “Maybe I embarrass you.”

  Julio and Willy came back and stood beside me.

  “You can try,” I said.

  For a second no one said anything. Bozo bounced on his toes, ready to fight. Frankie Diamond stayed where he was.

  Tito gave us supreme stink eye.

  Then he burst out laughing. “Hoo, you should see your face! So scared! No worry, liddle punks, you know Tito don’t fight wit’ weaklings. No make shi-shi pants, everything’s cool.”

  He raised his hands in fake surrender.

  All three of them strutted away like peacocks, banging into each other, laughing their heads off.

  My knees felt like jelly. I sucked in a deep breath.

  “Man!” Julio said. “Why did you do that? You could’ve got us killed!”

  “That was for Benny.”

  “Why? He’s not even here anymore.”

  I nodded. “Yeah … but I am.”

  Julio spat. “You’re getting as weird as he was, you know?”

  I held up karate-chop hands. “Back off, boogaloo! I know kung fu.”

  After dinner that night, I was in my room with Streak trying to dig up some of Mr. Purdy’s writing magic when Mom came in. “Working hard?” she said, closing the door behind her.

  “I have to write a one-page paper.”

  “On what?”

  “Ridicule.”

  Mom’s eyebrows went up. “Interesting. I like how your teacher makes you think about things.”

  I nodded.

  Mom had something in her hand. She glanced around my room. “I don’t get out here enough.”

  I shrugged. “I know, it’s messy.”

  She laughed. “That’s for sure … but it’s not what I meant. Anyway, have you seen this?”

  She held it out.

  I took it.

  Clear tape held the two torn pieces of Stella’s postcard together.

  “Stella asked me to mail it for her,” Mom said.

  “Huh,” I said. Stella had done a good job of taping the postcard back together.

  Mom tapp
ed the card with her finger. “Funny, but you and Stella have very similar handwriting.”

  I nodded, trying to look surprised. “It’s nice she wrote her mom.”

  “Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

  I peeked up. Mom gazed into my eyes. “So,” she said.

  I looked away … at my desk.

  Mom reached over and picked up the photograph that Benny Obi had given me. “What’s this?”

  “Um … someone gave it to me.”

  “Who’s Benny Obi?”

  “A friend … at school.”

  “And he met your dad?”

  I nodded. “He saw his show in Las Vegas, I guess with his family.”

  “That’s nice.” Mom put the picture back and tugged Stella’s postcard from my fingers. “I’ll take that.”

  “Oh … sorry.”

  “I need to lie on the couch with a magazine before this evening gets any stranger.”

  A while later, Streak and I went outside and stood in the dark listening to the toads down by the river. A sliver of moon hung in the sky, like a clipped fingernail.

  I know kung fu.

  I smiled and shook my head. “You were something, Benny Obi.”

  No way in all my life would I ever forget that line, or him. Kung fu or Kung Fu-Fu, or Kung Fooey, who cared? Benny had perked up our lives like the Fourth of July.

  In a way, I guess Stella had, too.

  I breathed in the cool air and went back into my room. Streak jumped up onto the lower bunk and circled into her spot.

  I crawled in and curled around her, with my head propped up in my hand.

  “You ever seen a kid with one and a half legs, Streak? Benny did.”

  She licked my face.

  I slept like a rock that night.

  And dreamed of driving a big pink car.

  Ka Lae on the Big Island of Hawaii is the southernmost point in the United States. If you go there, you’ll notice a constant wind blowing east to west, 24 hours per day, 365 days per year.

  Sneezing with your eyes open is impossible.