A Boy.
Page 3-5.
5. Story
Page 3
Bradley Chalkers sat at his desk
in the back of the room –
last seat, last row.
No one sat
at the desk next to him
or at the one
in front of him.
He was an island.
If he could have,
he would have
sat in the closet.
Then he could shut the door
so he wouldn’t have to listen
to Mrs. Ebbel.
He didn’t think she’d mind.
She’d probably like it
better that way too.
So would the rest of the class.
All in all,
he thought everyone
would be much happier
if he sat in the closet,
but, unfortunately,
his desk didn’t fit.
“Class,” said Mrs. Ebbel.
“I would like you all
to meet Jeff Fishkin.
Jeff has just moved here
from Washington, D.C.,
which, as you know,
is our nation’s capital.”
Bradley looked up
at the new kid
who was standing
at the front of the room
next to Mrs. Ebbel.
“Why don’t you
tell the class a little bit
about yourself, Jeff,”
urged Mrs. Ebbel.
The new kid shrugged.
“There’s no reason
to be shy,” said Mrs. Ebbel.
The new kid
mumbled something,
but Bradley couldn’t hear
what it was.
“Have you ever been
to the White House, Jeff?”
Mrs. Ebbel asked.
“I’m sure the class
would be very interested
to hear about that.”
Page 4
“No, I’ve never been there,”
the new kid said very quickly
as he shook his head.
Mrs. Ebbel smiled at him.
“Well, I guess we’d better
find you a place to sit.”
She looked around the room.
“Hmm, I don’t see anyplace except,
I suppose you can sit there,
at the back.”
“No, not next to Bradley!”
a girl in the front row
exclaimed.
“At least it’s better
than in front of Bradley,”
said the boy next to her.
Mrs. Ebbel frowned.
She turned to Jeff.
“I’m sorry,
but there are no other
empty desks.”
“I don’t mind
where I sit,”
Jeff mumbled.
“Well, nobody
likes sitting…there,”
said Mrs. Ebbel.
“That’s right,”
Bradley spoke up.
“Nobody likes sitting
next to me!”
He smiled a strange smile.
He stretched
his mouth so wide,
it was hard to tell
whether it was a smile
or a frown.
He stared at Jeff
with bulging eyes
as Jeff awkwardly
sat down next to him.
Jeff smiled back at him,
so he looked away.
As Mrs. Ebbel
began the lesson,
Bradley took out
a pencil and
a piece of paper,
and scribbled.
He scribbled
most of the morning,
sometimes on the paper
and sometimes
on his desk.
Sometimes he scribbled
so hard his pencil point broke.
Every time that happened
he laughed.
Then he’d tape
the broken point
to one of the
gobs of junk in his desk,
sharpen his pencil,
and scribble again.
Page 5
His desk was full of
little wads of torn paper,
pencil points,
chewed erasers,
and other
unrecognizable stuff,
all taped together.
Mrs. Ebbel handed back
a language test.
“Most of you
did very well,”
she said.
“I was very pleased.
There were fourteen A’s
and the rest B’s.
Of course,
there was one F,
but…”
She shrugged her shoulders.
Bradley held up his test
for everyone to see
and smiled that same
distorted smile.
As Mrs. Ebbel went over
the correct answers
with the class,
Bradley took out
his pair of scissors
and very carefully
cut his test paper
into tiny squares.
When the bell rang
for recess,
he put on his red jacket
and walked outside, alone.
“Hey, Bradley,
wait up!”
somebody called after him.
Startled, he turned around.
Jeff, the new kid,
hurried alongside him.
“Hi,” said Jeff.
Bradley stared at him
in amazement.
Jeff smiled.
“I don’t mind sitting
next to you,” he said.
“Really.”
Bradley didn’t know
what to say.
“I have been
to the White House,”
Jeff admitted.
“If you want,
I’ll tell you about it.”
Bradley thought a moment,
then said,
“Give me a dollar
or I’ll spit on you.”