Nikki and Deja Read online

  Nikki and Deja stop pretending to tie their shoes and just sit and listen unnoticed.

  “This is what we do,” Ralph says. “When it’s morning-journal time and it’s all quiet and stuff, we all wait until the big hand gets on the twelve, then I drop my math book. Then when the big hand gets on the one, Carlos drops his book. When it gets on the two, Richard drops his book. Then, when it gets on the three, we all drop our books.”

  Ralph looks around and they suddenly all burst into laughter. “This is going to be good!” Carlos says.

  “Let’s think of something else, for after recess,” Willis says. He’s another new boy from a school across town.

  “That Willis probably got kicked out of his old school,” Nikki whispers to Deja.

  “Yeah,” Deja says, looking over at him. She doesn’t like what she sees. His shirt is already hanging out, and school hasn’t even started yet.

  “I know,” Willis says breathlessly. “My old teacher really hated when we would move our chairs, because it made a lot of noise until she bought a bunch of tennis balls and put them on the chair legs. So I’ll scoot my chair like I’m trying to get comfortable, and then when I finish, you can scoot yours,” he says, pointing to Carlos. “And then you can do it,” he says, pointing to Richard. “And then you,” he adds, pointing to Ralph.

  “I betcha he did all kinds of bad things at his old school,” Deja says.

  “Yeah,” Nikki agrees.

  The lineup bell rings then. Nikki and Deja try to find their places, but it’s hard because so many of the kids have just lined up wherever they please. There’s a lot of laughing going on. Deja’s place in line has been behind Keisha, but Keisha is in the back of the line talking to her friend Ayanna. Nikki’s place in line is behind Casey, but Rosario has taken Casey’s place. The boys are equally mixed up, and loving it. It’s a mess.

  “Where’s Mr. Wiiiillllloooww?” Keisha asks in that new drawn-out way a lot of the kids have adopted.

  “Yeah,” Rosario says, looking around. “Where’s Mr. Wiiiillllloooww?”

  “I wish he’d come up here with that dog of his,” Deja says under her breath. She watches the other classes walking in orderly lines toward the school building. She looks around. No Mr. Willow. She glances over at Nikki. Nikki does a little shrug and looks around too.

  Carlos begins the chant: “Where’s Mr. Wiiiillllloooww? Where’s Mr. Wiiiillllloooww? Where’s Mr. Wiiiillllloooww?” Everyone— except the good kids—joins in.

  That Willis character calls out, “He’s afraid to come to school!” He doubles over with laughter, and several of the boys and girls near him join in.

  6

  Meet Mr. Blaggart

  Across the yard, Deja spots a figure walking toward them. No, more like marching toward them. All the other classes have gone into the school building. Room Ten is the only class still left on the yard. The figure gets closer. It’s a man. Kind of a big man. A man she has never seen before. Is he a new sub? The boisterous kids don’t notice. They’re too busy being loud.

  But Richard notices—and then Antonia, and Casey, and then Beverly and Erik and that kind-of-new boy, Gavin. They all see the man with the no-nonsense look coming right at them. He gets closer and finally plants himself in front of the straggly line with his head forward on his thick neck, eyes bugged out big as golf balls, and furry brows that are sunk down and meeting like two caterpillars shaking hands.

  He stands there looking at them. Then he squints, surveying the line.

  One by one, the students grow quiet— some out of curiosity, some out of fear, Deja guesses. Soon everyone is paying attention to the man standing in front of them. He’s not a giant, but he gives the impression of being one. He’s taller and bulkier than Mr. Willow, and he has one of those haircuts that makes his hair look like sharp, short bristles sticking up out of his head. His hands look like huge paws hanging at his sides. Big bear paws. Deja realizes she feels a tiny bit of fear too. He just stands there, looking over the class. Then he moves his hands behind him and stands like a soldier. “Follow me! And no laggers, or you’re going to get an extra lap!”

  Willis, in front of her, nudges Carlos, in front of him. They smile at each other and then look back at the new sub. They don’t have any sense, Deja thinks. Can’t they see that this sub is not Mr. Willow?

  He leads them to the lunch tables and benches. “Find a seat!”

  Everyone eventually finds a seat. Carlos and Richard sit side by side and immediately begin elbowing each other. The new teacher swivels his head around and glares at them. He points at them with one big sausage finger.

  “You two!” he says. “Drop your backpacks and give me three laps around this schoolyard. The rest of you, give me two laps! This is called our morning constitutional, and we’ll be doing this every morning to get us ready for a hard day of learning!”

  Most of the kids look like they don’t know what to think. One by one they come up with their backpacks, place them on the lunch tables, and start for the edge of the playground.

  “I don’t want to see any walking! I see walking and you get another lap! And after you finish, line up right here!” He points his finger down at the spot in front of him.

  As soon as the students from Room Ten enter their classroom, they start whispering complaints to each other. “This teacher is mean,” Rosario says, looking back over her shoulder at him. He stands just inside the door, checking a clipboard.

  “I’m waiting for everyone to close their mouths and listen up!” the new substitute says, not shouting, but in a very strong voice.

  Rosario rolls her eyes at Keisha. Keisha sucks her teeth just as the sub turns in her direction. There’s a little gasp from Beverly, who’s easily rattled.

  The new sub walks directly over to Keisha. She is turned away, whispering something to Rosario behind her hand. He stands right in front of Keisha. She drops her hand and looks up at him.

  “Do you speak English?” he asks her.

  Deja’s mouth drops open at this point. Uh-oh, she thinks. Keisha has been known to be a little bit sassy. Not to Ms. Shelby-Ortiz, but to past substitutes.

  This time, she seems to know that sassy is not the way to go. “Yes,” she mumbles.

  “I didn’t hear you,” the sub says, his voice low and scary.

  “Yes, I said, I speak English.”

  “Do you have trouble hearing, then?”

  “No.”

  “Then you heard me tell everyone to close their mouths?”

  Keisha doesn’t say anything. She just looks down.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, not sounding at all sorry. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “Yes, I heard you,” she says quietly.

  “Listen up!” he says to everyone. “You have five minutes to put away your stuff and get in your seats. Five minutes,” he repeats sharply. Most of the students speed up their morning routine. But there are four or five Knucklehead Club members who pay no attention to the fact that there’s been a change in Room Ten.

  Carlos still sits at what is really Ayanna’s desk, and Ayanna takes her place next to her best friend, Rosario, at Carlos’s desk. The new sub goes immediately to the board and writes his name in huge letters: MR. BLAGGART.

  Deja stares at it for a few seconds. “Mr. Blaggart,” she mouths. She looks over at Nikki. She’s mouthing it as well. Deja’s never heard of that name before. But it sounds . . . it sounds . . . it sounds mean. She studies Mr. Blaggart. He’s still checking a paper on a clipboard in his hand. Then he turns and starts drawing a floor plan of the classroom on the whiteboard. That catches some of the kids’ attention. They sit quietly, waiting. They watch him fill in their clusters of desks. Slowly, what noisiness there is dies down. Everyone turns to the board, curious to see what this Mr. Blaggart person is doing. Mr. Blaggart finishes drawing and looks over the class. His eyes seem to lock with each of theirs for just a few seconds. It’s as if he can look right through them.

  “Now,” he s
ays, “I’m Mr. Blaggart.” He speaks forcefully, and Carlos and Ralph look at each other and smirk. Mr. Blaggart sees them. “Did I say something funny?”

  No response.

  “Stand up, you two!”

  Carlos and Ralph stand.

  “I’ll ask you again.” Now he lowers his voice and says in a kind of hiss, “Did I say something funny?”

  “No,” Carlos says in a near whisper.

  “I can’t hear you,” Mr. Blaggart says, then looks over at Ralph.

  “No,” Ralph says.

  He’s like a drill sergeant, Deja thinks. Like in a movie she saw once on TV.

  “Sit down,” he orders.

  They sit.

  “First thing,” he continues, “I’m going to call your tables teams! Team One, Team Two, Team Three, Team Four, and Team Five.” He points at them as he names them. Right after he’s pointed to Team Five, Carlos blurts out, “But that’s Table One!”

  Everyone quickly looks to Mr. Blaggart to see what he’s going to do. Mr. Blaggart turns to Carlos and looks at him for a long moment . . . a really long moment. Carlos seems to wither under it. He drops his eyes.

  “Take out your morning journals,” Mr. Blaggart says. “While I take the roll using your teacher’s seating chart, let’s have Ayanna suggest a topic to write about.” He looks directly at Carlos.

  Ayanna’s eyes dart from Mr. Blaggart to Carlos and then back at Carlos again.

  “Ayanna, do you have a topic you’d like to suggest to the class?” he asks Carlos.

  Carlos begins to frown. He looks confused.

  “Ayanna?” Mr. Blaggart repeats. He crosses the room to stand right next to Carlos.

  Richard begins to snicker. Then Rosario joins in. Mr. Blaggart looks over at them. They stop. Then he turns to Ayanna, who’s started to join in the laughter. “What about you, Carlos? Do you have a topic you’d like to suggest?”

  She stops abruptly and looks over at Carlos.

  “Carlos?” Mr. Blaggart asks again.

  Ayanna shakes her head and looks down.

  Antonia raises her hand then. Mr. Blaggart notices and nods his head.

  “Maybe we can write about why it’s important for everyone to follow rules—especially rules set up by their teacher. Even when there’s a sub.”

  “I like that,” Mr. Blaggart says readily. His eyes rest on Carlos. “Ayanna, is that all right with you?”

  “My name isn’t Ayanna,” Carlos says boldly.

  “It isn’t?” Mr. Blaggart walks quickly to Ms. Shelby-Ortiz’s desk and picks up her clipboard. He makes a show of consulting it and looking around the room. He looks up at the whiteboard and then back at Carlos. He frowns and looks at the whiteboard again. “No, I’m sure that seat belongs to a student named Ayanna. So you must be Ayanna. That seat, according to your teacher, was given to Ayanna. I’m sure you wouldn’t sit in a seat that doesn’t belong to you. Am I right, Carlos?” he asks, looking right at Ayanna.

  Ayanna doesn’t say anything. She clearly doesn’t know what to say.

  Mr. Blaggart repeats, “Am I right?”

  “This is Carlos’s seat,” she says, giving in quickly and in a near whisper, as if she doesn’t want the class to hear her. “Carlos is in my seat.”

  “I see,” Mr. Blaggart says. “Then what should you and Carlos do, at this point?”

  Everyone is watching her intently. Deja bets they’re all super glad they aren’t Ayanna—or Carlos.

  Mr. Blaggart swivels to Carlos, who seems to be trying to look completely innocent. “What do you think?”

  Carlos doesn’t say anything.

  Mr. Blaggart moves to Carlos and stares down at him. “What do you think, Carlos?” His voice sounds a little bit louder.

  “I have to move to my own seat,” Carlos says quietly.

  “Excellent,” Mr. Blaggart says with a huge grin on his face, just like the cat in Alice in Wonderland, the one with the big piano-key teeth.

  Deja stares at that smile. Mr. Blaggart actually does have teeth that look like piano keys.

  Now Ayanna begins taking all of her books, and her pencil case, and her Ziploc bag of markers and crayons, and an empty bag of potato chips (that she balls up quickly and stuffs into her pocket) out of Carlos’s desk.

  The whole class, including Carlos, watches her. Then Carlos scoots his chair back and stretches himself out so the back of his head is resting on the back of his chair. He raises his eyebrows.

  Meekly, Ayanna, with her arms full of her things, walks across the room to where Carlos is sitting. She stands there waiting for him to get up. When he doesn’t move, she lets her books and all her other stuff slide out of her arms and onto the desk.

  Carlos tsks loudly. He stands and begins gathering his belongings from inside the desk. When his arms are crammed full of books and small toys and spiral notebooks and pencils, he starts across the room toward the seat assigned to him by his teacher. But Mr. Blaggart stops him.

  “Oh, no, buddy boy. You look like you need some time alone—to think and get rid of your attitude. I want you to sit at the special desk by the class library.” Carlos stops in his tracks. He pivots dramatically and, nearly stomping his feet as he walks, heads in the direction of what everyone calls the dummy desk. It’s where you go when you’re having problems following directions. It’s where you go when you need to do your work by yourself—where there are no distractions, and where the teacher can keep a close eye on you. It’s where you go so that you will not disturb others who are trying to stay on task and do their own work.

  Deja can see that Nikki is trying to stifle a laugh. Keisha is trying to keep from laughing as well.

  Mr. Blaggart claps a loud, thunderous clap. Then he walks over to the whiteboard and writes the topic for their morning journals in giant letters: WHY IT’S IMPORTANT TO FOLLOW RULES!

  “Okay, everybody. Let’s get to work!” He looks around the room as everyone pulls out his or her journal and slowly gets to work. When he seems satisfied, he settles in at Ms. Shelby-Ortiz’s desk, picks up a newspaper he must have brought with him, snaps it open, and begins to read.

  Deja is shocked. Ms. Shelby-Ortiz would never do such a thing. Read a newspaper? Deja’s sure there’s a rule against such a thing. But Mr. Blaggart looks perfectly at ease breaking it.

  7

  Blaggart Days

  Later, when Deja looks around, nearly everyone is working. There are only a few slackers. Keisha is staring into space. That new boy Willis is drawing in his journal, and Ralph is playing with some tiny action figures he has in his desk. His journal sits closed next to them.

  After a few moments of trying to think of something to write, Deja puts the date on her page in the upper right corner, just like Ms. Shelby-Ortiz tells them to do. Then she writes the journal topic on the top line. She stares at it. She looks over at Nikki, already knowing Nikki is having no problem writing, since she wants to be a journalist when she grows up. She’s probably written a whole page already. Deja begins with something kind of stupid-sounding:

  We have to have rules in this school and in this world, too. If there were no rules on the street, cars could crash into each other because they’d go on the red and maybe stop on the green if they felt like it, and people would just butt in the lunch line and people would just throw their paper towels on the floor in the restroom instead of in the trash can. And kids wouldn’t do their homework and kids would come to school anytime they wanted and . . .

  Feeling eyes in her direction, Deja looks up. Mr. Blaggart is looking right at Ralph, who is so engrossed in his playing, he doesn’t notice. But he must suddenly feel the pressure of Mr. Blaggart’s stare, because he looks up and then quietly slides all the toys back inside his desk. Then he carefully pulls his journal to himself and opens it. He looks up at Mr. Blaggart. The teacher is still staring at him. His caterpillar eyebrows have knitted together. He’s so scary, Deja has to look away.

  Ralph starts writing, making Deja wonder what he
could have come up with so immediately. Mr. Blaggart stands and casually starts moving in Ralph’s direction. It’s just like a tiger moving in for the kill. Ralph keeps writing—Deja can’t imagine what. Mr. Blaggart comes to stand right next to his desk. He folds his arms and reads over Ralph’s shoulder. Ralph stops writing.

  Mr. Blaggart begins to read aloud: “‘We need rules. We need rules. We need rules. We need rules. We need rules. We need rules. ’ . . . Well, well, well. What’s that about, Ralph?”

  Ralph seems to flinch at the sound of his name coming out of Mr. Blaggart’s mouth. “I dunno,” he says, finally.

  “Well, Ralph, do you know what Mr. Blaggart thinks?”

  Ralph gives one quick shake of his head.

  “I think you’ve already had your recess playing with whatever you’ve been playing with in your desk. I think you can stay in from recess and write about why it’s important to follow rules. But I think you should add to that and write about the importance of doing your best, too. What do you think? Does that sound like a good idea?”

  “Yes,” Ralph says in a quiet voice.

  Then Mr. Blaggart holds out his big fat palm.

  Ralph stares at it, puzzled. Then the reason dawns on him. He reaches into his desk and extracts three action figures. He hands them over.

  “Thanks,” Mr. Blaggart says, taking them. He holds out his other hand, smiling down at Ralph.

  Ralph frowns a little, then reaches way into his desk and takes out three more figures. He hands them over. Mr. Blaggart puts them in the fist that grips the other figures and holds out his empty palm again.

  Ralph sighs and gathers more figures and hands them over too.

  “Class, who can tell me the rule about bringing toys to school?”

  Beverly’s hand shoots up.