Just Another Hero Page 14

  November just shrugged. “Sunshine is my gold.”

  KOFI

  CHAPTER 22

  THURSDAY, MARCH 3

  “I HOPE SPRING GETS HERE IN A HURRY,” Kofi said with a shiver. “The sun is bright, but it’s not working very hard.” He put his arm around Dana as they stood together outside in the area behind the cafeteria called the Commons. Only juniors and seniors were allowed to use the area, so many of them went out after lunch just because they could.

  “Yes, but the fresh air feels so good,” Dana said, inhaling deeply. “The cafeteria always smells like old onions and boiled tomatoes.”

  “Isn’t that what was on the lunch special today?” he teased.

  “Yep. I had two servings.”

  Students sat in groups of two and three, talking, listening to music through ear buds, or texting with the phones that nobody was supposed to have.

  Kofi tried to hide the chill bumps, but his body shuddered involuntarily.

  “Are you shivering from the weather, or because you need a pill?” Dana asked him matter-of-factly.

  “You cold, girl,” Kofi replied. “You don’t give a dude no slack!”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” she said. Her tone was serious.

  “I’m straight. Promise. I have not taken anything.”

  “For real?”

  “Every day gets a little easier,” he told her. It was true. His appetite was returning, and his frequent visits to the toilet had slowed almost to normal.

  She turned, twisting from his embrace. “You know I love you, Kofi.”

  “’Cause I’m so fine?” he asked her, patting his cheeks.

  “No, ’cause you so crazy!”

  He put both arms around her then and pulled her close. “You dare me to kiss you right here in front of a hundred kids?”

  “Hey, they don’t get a free show,” she whispered in his ear. “Save the good stuff for when we’re alone.”

  “Bet.” Kofi hugged her tightly. Then he asked, “Are you worried about Eddie…when he gets back?”

  “I refuse to walk around scared. I’m not gonna let Eddie mess up my life,” she proclaimed. But he could feel her tense up.

  “He better not touch you,” Kofi said, menace in his voice. “I’d have to light him up.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid,” Dana warned. “If you get suspended for fighting, who’s gonna protect me?”

  “Well, can I squeeze him into goo?”

  “Probably not.” Dana giggled.

  “I can’t stomp him into muddy molecules?”

  “Nope!”

  “Then he better stay outta my way and keep himself far away from you.” Kofi’s voice trembled. “Besides…”

  But Kofi stopped as Jack Krasinski, wearing a snare drum around his neck, a book bag on his back, and a fuzzy purple hat on his head, began beating out a series of loud and complicated cadences on the drum. He seemed to ignore everyone around him as he marched from the cafeteria and out to the center of the Commons. Pounding away, he chanted, “Flamadiddle, flamadiddle, bop, bop, bop! Flamadiddle, flamadiddle, bop, bop, bop!” His forehead and face, beaded with sweat, looked strained.

  A few students laughed at him, and some marched with him for a moment or two, but most students just shook their heads. Jack played for a full five minutes, alone in the center of the Commons. Only Dana and Kofi clapped when he finished with a flourish and took an elaborate bow.

  Jack looked around, like he was maybe searching for more attention, but most kids continued to chat and text and treat Jack as if he were invisible.

  “He looks sad,” Dana said.

  Jack continued to march and mumble until he disappeared into the building. “Now that’s marching to the beat of a different drummer!” Kofi told her.

  Dana looked concerned. “Olivia told me Jack’s usually the life of the band, but lately it seems like he’s got some issues.”

  “We all got issues,” said Kofi with a shrug. The bell rang, indicating the end of lunch, and they headed into the building. Kofi looked around, but didn’t see Jack anywhere in the crowds of kids.

  “You walkin’ me to class?” Dana asked as Kofi passed by his math classroom. “I’m okay—Eddie’s not back yet.”

  “Every day. Every class, my sweet. Eddie or not.” He bowed like Jack had done.

  “Where are your drums?”

  “Can’t you hear my heart beating for you?” he asked her with a laugh. “It’s pounding louder than any drum!”

  “You’re really full of it!”

  He made sure she got to her history class, and later to Spoon’s class, which he always enjoyed. He knew he’d like it even better without Eddie.

  “Hey, Spoon,” Kofi said as he and Dana walked in together.

  “You two all right?” the teacher asked, peering over her glasses.

  “Yeah. Thanks. We’re in this together,” Dana told her.

  After all the students had checked in through her computer system and everyone was settled, Mrs. Witherspoon stood up.

  “You know I call you guys my puppies. It’s a term of endearment.”

  “Yeah, we know, Spoon. You cool. Even if you do give too much homework!” Cleveland said.

  “Yesterday’s incident was very unsettling for me, and I want to make sure that all of you are safe. I don’t want anyone in here, or any other classroom, alone anymore, okay?”

  “Gotcha, Spoon,” said Jericho.

  “My room is open for you, however, any time I’m here.”

  “Well, we all know you ain’t got no life outside of school, so that must mean day and night!” Roscoe said with a laugh.

  “Hey, don’t dis me, kid. I have a cat who loves me very much!”

  “We love you too, Spoon,” Dana said. “You saved my butt yesterday.”

  “I’d jump through fire for each and every one of you. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Even me?” Roscoe asked from the back of the room.

  “Especially you, Roscoe, my man,” she replied with a grin. “Seriously, if you’ve got stuff going on that you need help with, just holler. You got that?”

  “Eeeeeeee!” Roscoe cried.

  “What was that?”

  “I’m hollering out for help!” His classmates chuckled.

  “The last time I heard a noise like that, my microwave was overheating,” Spoon replied. “I had to toss it and get a new one. You reading me?”

  “Yeah, I feel you. I was just playin’.” Roscoe gave Cleveland a high five.

  “Each of you,” Mrs. Witherspoon continued, “has the capacity to be a hero, a winner, a champion. You know of heroes in your own lives, and you’ve studied heroes in history class.”

  “Sounds like an assignment comin’ up,” Jericho whispered to Kofi.

  “Yep.”

  “Since we have just about finished our study of Beowulf, it’s time for our annual Hero Project.”

  “I knew it! What is it with teachers and projects?” Kofi complained to Jericho.

  “I’m dividing you into study groups,” Mrs. Witherspoon went on, “different from what you’d choose yourselves.”

  “That’s no fun,” grumbled Roscoe.

  “Sure it is,” Mrs. Witherspoon said. She turned on her computer, and an elaborate chart describing the project was displayed on the whiteboard in front.

  “She’s been plannin’ this all along!” Kofi said as he realized what she was doing.

  “What a slick way to slide into makin’ us do a whole lotta work!” Jericho whispered back.

  Mrs. Witherspoon ignored the grumbling. “Check this out,” she said. “I’m dividing you into teams of two.”

  “Can I be with Dana?” Kofi asked.

  “No, Dana is teamed with Jericho.”

  “Why can’t I be with my girl?” asked Kofi. “I need to be with her—I’m her bodyguard.”

  “I want you to concentrate on Beowulf, not on Dana the Wolfe,” Spoon replied. “Jericho will keep an eye
on her.”

  “Ooh, she got you, man!” Roscoe hooted.

  “No fair,” Kofi grumbled.

  “The next team is Cleveland and Roscoe,” the teacher announced.

  “How come I can’t get a fine girl to work with?” Roscoe complained.

  Mrs. Witherspoon kept reading the teams from her list. “Rosa and Ram. Charles and Luis. Arielle and Kofi.”

  Kofi watched as Dana looked quickly at Arielle, but both girls smiled, so he relaxed.

  “Hey, I’ll take Arielle off your hands, man,” Roscoe offered. “I’ll sacrifice to work with that taste of honey.”

  Arielle tossed him a dirty look. “You couldn’t handle it,” she said softly.

  “Oowee! Gotcha, man. Sizzle!” Jericho chuckled.

  Spoon continued. “November will work with Eric. Susan and Osrick. Olivia and Lisa.”

  “So what we s’posed to do, Spoon? Why you mix us up like that?” Cleveland frowned and crossed his arms.

  “I know your learning styles and your strengths. I put together teams that will make the very best Hero Projects. You can focus on a fictional hero, or someone in your own life. I’m looking for the essence of heroism,” she explained.

  “You are such a teacher!” November said.

  “Is that a compliment?” asked Spoon.

  “I’m not sure yet. I’m waiting to see how hard this thing is gonna be,” she replied with a laugh.

  “Fair enough,” Spoon said. “Okay—here we go. You are to create an interactive, multimedia hero project. I want bells and whistles, rhythm and rhyme. I want music, pictures, video. Internet links and webisodes. This is to be a twenty-first-century project. Your grandfather couldn’t do this assignment. This stuff didn’t even exist thirty years ago.”

  “My grandma got a MySpace page!” Cleveland told the class with a laugh. “She rocks!”

  “Well, she might be able to help you then,” Spoon retorted.

  “When is it due?” asked Olivia.

  Spoon grinned. “Specifics and details are on our class website. Pop the data in your zip drive, and you’re good to go. You guys are the children of the future, and you’re bringing it home to me in two weeks.” She paused for effect.

  “Two weeks?” Kofi groaned.

  “If you need to use school equipment, I have laptops you can take home, or you can use the stuff in my room from six a.m. until six p.m. I’ll come early and stay late if you need me to.”

  “You’re too good, Spoon. I can’t even use no computer as an excuse,” Cleveland said.

  “Break into your teams now and start to plan,” the teacher told everyone. “You’ve got the rest of the class to start getting it together.”

  Kofi and Arielle searched the Internet for twenty minutes or so, but nothing seemed to jump out as perfect.

  “We need more time to plan this thing,” Kofi said. “Spoon’s rhythm and rhyme is gonna take some time. More than we can do in class. When can we get together?”

  “I work every night but Thursday. Hey, that’s today,” Arielle said.

  “I’m off today too. You wanna do something after school and get it over with?” Kofi asked.

  She paused. “Dana gonna be cool with this?”

  “Yeah, we’re straight.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you by your car at three.”

  ARIELLE

  CHAPTER 23

  THURSDAY, MARCH 3

  ARIELLE HURRIED ACROSS THE PARKING LOT to Kofi’s ancient, dirty gray Ford Taurus. Kofi stood by it with Dana, shielding her from the brisk winds.

  “I think you must drive the very first Taurus ever made,” Arielle teased him. “Ford should send you a prize or something.”

  Kofi brushed a leaf off the hood and pretended to shine the rusty door handle. “Naw, this is a 1992. It’s special to nobody but me. Runs on rubber bands and bacon grease!”

  “What’s up, Dana?” Arielle said, rubbing her ungloved hands together. Her face was pink from the cold. “You two look warm and snuggly.”

  “You look like a popsicle, girl,” Dana told her. “Get in the car. Kofi’s got it all warmed up.” She untangled herself and slid into the front seat next to Kofi.

  “Thanks.” Arielle opened the back door and got in. “You comin’ with us, Dana?” she asked.

  “I don’t have to be at my job until six, so I figured I’d hang with you two until then. That all right with you?”

  “Sure. I just want to get the project done in a hurry.”

  “Gotcha,” Dana said.

  “So, where can we do this?” asked Arielle.

  “The library?” Kofi suggested. He pulled out of the school parking lot.

  “Bells and whistles are pretty noisy. Spoon wants techno-dazzle,” Arielle said.

  “What about the food court at the mall?” Dana suggested. “I’m hungry.”

  “No computer access there. What about your house, Kofi?” asked Arielle.

  He exchanged a look with Dana. “Probably not a good idea,” he said slowly. “My mom is wobbly and Dad is shaky. I love ’em, but they’re Pop-Tarts, if you know what I mean.”

  “Believe it or not, I really do,” Arielle said. “For real.”

  Kofi asked, “How ’bout your house? I’ve driven past there—it looks like a street on some TV show.”

  “It’s not what you think,” said Arielle.

  “You know what? As long as I’ve known you, I’ve never been inside your house,” Dana commented.

  “You want to talk about a parental Pop-Tart? My stepfather beats them all,” Arielle told them. “He doesn’t like visitors.”

  “Aw, I know you got the hookups in that big old pretty house,” Kofi said.

  Arielle hesitated. “If my stepfather isn’t home, I guess we can use the TV in the great room, as long as you have your laptop. When he went off the deep end, he killed the Internet except on his personal stuff.”

  “My laptop is old, but I’ve got broadband and all kinds of techie hookups I designed myself,” Kofi boasted.

  “We have to finish before he gets home,” Arielle told them nervously.

  “You have a great room? I’m not even sure what that is,” Dana said with a laugh.

  Arielle didn’t smile. “It’s not so great—just a big living room.”

  “You’re really lucky, Arielle,” said Kofi.

  “No, I’m not. Let me ask you something. When you go home and flop on your sofa and turn on your TV, who do those things belong to?”

  Kofi scratched his head. “Me and my folks, I guess. But I think the TV belongs to Rent-A-Center,” he added with a grin.

  Arielle said softly, “Everything in our house belong to Chadwick Kensington O’Neil, my stepfather.”

  “What difference does it make?” Kofi asked.

  “Lots. He just lets us use his stuff. It’s not ours.”

  “Deep,” said Dana.

  “And I’m still on punishment. It’s been, like, a month now,” Arielle admitted.

  “Still? Jeez—it’s not like you robbed a bank!” Dana said.

  “What’s so bad about being on punishment?” Kofi asked. “Parents do that all the time. It’s some kind of power trip.”

  “Chad’s different,” Arielle replied quietly, as they reached the driveway. Then she said with relief, “His car’s gone! Good, we’ll be able to work, but you two have to be really careful not to get anything dirty or mess up anything. He freaks.”

  “I feel sorry for you, girl,” Dana said with a shake of her head.

  Kofi pulled into the driveway. Arielle hopped out of the car and tapped in the alarm code by the front door.

  “That’s odd,” she said, re-entering the code. “He always sets the alarm when he leaves. He’s anal about stuff like that.”

  “He didn’t set it?” Dana asked as she and Kofi got to the front door.

  Arielle frowned. “I don’t believe this. He didn’t even lock it!”

  As she pushed open the heavy oak door, Kofi and Dana walked
into the house with her.

  “Oh my God!” Arielle said breathlessly.

  “I don’t get it,” Kofi said, confused. “This is where you live?”

  “Where is everything?” Dana asked. Her voice echoed off bare walls.

  Arielle felt faint. The house was empty, completely empty. No sofas, no chairs, no tables. Nothing.

  “Where is everything?” Arielle asked in a whisper. “You guys…I think we’ve been robbed!”

  “Maybe we’d better not go in,” Kofi suggested, pulling both Arielle and Dana back. “We should call the police!”

  But as Arielle looked around, she realized that if they had been robbed, the house wouldn’t be so completely, utterly bare. She shook herself free from Kofi and walked into the kitchen, her mouth agape. She opened a cupboard. No plates. No dishes. Every single can and box of food had simply vanished.

  She opened a kitchen drawer. The spoons were gone. So were the forks, the knives, and the rest of the utensils.

  She turned slowly as Kofi peered in the refrigerator. It could have been sold at an appliance store. It was that clean and empty.

  “You gotta call the police, Arielle!” Kofi said again.

  Arielle had started to cry. Dana put her arm around her shoulder. “This is unbelievable! We gotta call your mom, too, Arielle.”

  Arielle gasped. “My clothes!” She took the stairs two at a time, Kofi and Dana right behind her.

  The pretty pink carpet remained, as well as the indentations where the bed and the chest of drawers had once stood. But Arielle’s room, like the rest of the house, was completely bare.

  A few hangers dangled in the empty closet. Everything else was gone.

  Arielle let out a wail, then fell onto the floor in a heap, her shoulders heaving with sobs. She felt Dana’s hand on her back, but she couldn’t stop crying. “I hate him! I hate him!” she repeated over and over. “How could he do this to us?”

  Kofi and Dana exchanged glances. Finally Kofi said, “Arielle, we have to call the police.”

  Arielle sniffed and said, “Can I borrow a tissue? He probably took the Kleenex box, too.”