weapon?”
“It takes away worry and bad dream.”
“All right, then. If you say so.” He grinned at us as he walked away to the subway, waving his sword like a ninja.
I felt sad when I saw Mr. Al’s empty store downstairs. Up in our apartment, I took a look at his building, pulling up the garbage bags over the kitchen window.
I wanted to see the sleeping black woman and baby in the apartment above his store. The mother wasn’t there but I could make out the baby, bigger now, alone in an old mesh playpen. He was hanging on to the sides. He had his mouth wide open, crying, but no one came.
I had always liked toy cars more than dolls and I had no interest in real babies at all, but I wished I could pick him up and comfort him.
Through all of March and into April, I continued to feel the bully Luke’s eyes on me but I pretended I didn’t notice anything. He had started grabbing girls by their hair and kissing them whenever Mr. Bogart wasn’t looking. Finally, one lunch period I was crossing the cafeteria, holding my tray, and passed the table where he was sitting with some other boys. He stuck out his foot. I stepped over it and kept going. The rubber legs of his chair screeched against the floor as he pushed himself away from the table and stood up.
“Hey, Chinese girl.”
I didn’t look around. I had just set my tray down at my usual spot across the table from Annette when I felt his hand on my shoulder. On reflex, I lowered my shoulder and turned at the same time, so that his hand fell off.
“Wow, that’s kung fu,” one of Luke’s friends said.
“You know karate?” Luke asked, with real interest.
“No,” I said. That was the truth.
“She does,” his skinny friend said.
“I want to try out your moves. Let’s fight after school.” Luke said this as if he were inviting me to play at his house. Then he and his friends went back to their own table.
Annette was staring at me from across the table. I sat down, trembling.
“Are you crazy?” she asked, her voice pitched higher than normal. “He’ll kill you!”
“What must I do?”
“You gotta tell somebody. Tell Mr. Bogart.”
I just looked at her.
“Okay, forget that.” Annette wrinkled her forehead in thought. “My mom’s got to work today, so my housekeeper’s picking me up from school. We could tell her.”
I thought about her housekeeper, who had looked so dry and serious. She didn’t seem like someone I could trust. If only Mrs. Avery were going to pick Annette up that day instead. “No, I don’t want you tell her.”
“Why not?”
“She don’t help.” I knew it was true. “And I’m not a telly-tale.”
Annette lowered her voice to a hiss. “Look, Kimberly, I think Luke carries a knife. It’s okay to tell someone!”
I shook my head. I was afraid of Luke but I was more afraid of grown-ups. Maybe Annette’s housekeeper would try to talk to Ma or Mr. Bogart. Everything I had hidden from Ma could come out: the forged signatures, the failed tests, the dental note, the report cards, the PTA meeting.
Annette grabbed my wrist. “Okay, you just come home with me, then. We’ll get in the car and drive away. We can drop you off at your place.”
I wanted to agree. But how could I show them where I lived? And Ma was expecting me at the factory. Besides, Luke would just wait for me tomorrow, or the day after that. It would only get worse. He’d been staring at me for a while now.
“No,” I said. “I fight him.”
After school, I could taste the sour from my stomach in my mouth. I’d never been struck before. Even though I’d often seen fights in the school yard, I’d never been punched or kicked or spit upon. I had never hit anyone either. I’d done some tai chi in the park with Ma back home, but since most of the other students had been in their seventies, what we’d learned had hardly trained me for a street fight in Brooklyn.
Everyone had heard about the brawl, and a tight circle of kids reined
“It takes away worry and bad dream.”
“All right, then. If you say so.” He grinned at us as he walked away to the subway, waving his sword like a ninja.
I felt sad when I saw Mr. Al’s empty store downstairs. Up in our apartment, I took a look at his building, pulling up the garbage bags over the kitchen window.
I wanted to see the sleeping black woman and baby in the apartment above his store. The mother wasn’t there but I could make out the baby, bigger now, alone in an old mesh playpen. He was hanging on to the sides. He had his mouth wide open, crying, but no one came.
I had always liked toy cars more than dolls and I had no interest in real babies at all, but I wished I could pick him up and comfort him.
Through all of March and into April, I continued to feel the bully Luke’s eyes on me but I pretended I didn’t notice anything. He had started grabbing girls by their hair and kissing them whenever Mr. Bogart wasn’t looking. Finally, one lunch period I was crossing the cafeteria, holding my tray, and passed the table where he was sitting with some other boys. He stuck out his foot. I stepped over it and kept going. The rubber legs of his chair screeched against the floor as he pushed himself away from the table and stood up.
“Hey, Chinese girl.”
I didn’t look around. I had just set my tray down at my usual spot across the table from Annette when I felt his hand on my shoulder. On reflex, I lowered my shoulder and turned at the same time, so that his hand fell off.
“Wow, that’s kung fu,” one of Luke’s friends said.
“You know karate?” Luke asked, with real interest.
“No,” I said. That was the truth.
“She does,” his skinny friend said.
“I want to try out your moves. Let’s fight after school.” Luke said this as if he were inviting me to play at his house. Then he and his friends went back to their own table.
Annette was staring at me from across the table. I sat down, trembling.
“Are you crazy?” she asked, her voice pitched higher than normal. “He’ll kill you!”
“What must I do?”
“You gotta tell somebody. Tell Mr. Bogart.”
I just looked at her.
“Okay, forget that.” Annette wrinkled her forehead in thought. “My mom’s got to work today, so my housekeeper’s picking me up from school. We could tell her.”
I thought about her housekeeper, who had looked so dry and serious. She didn’t seem like someone I could trust. If only Mrs. Avery were going to pick Annette up that day instead. “No, I don’t want you tell her.”
“Why not?”
“She don’t help.” I knew it was true. “And I’m not a telly-tale.”
Annette lowered her voice to a hiss. “Look, Kimberly, I think Luke carries a knife. It’s okay to tell someone!”
I shook my head. I was afraid of Luke but I was more afraid of grown-ups. Maybe Annette’s housekeeper would try to talk to Ma or Mr. Bogart. Everything I had hidden from Ma could come out: the forged signatures, the failed tests, the dental note, the report cards, the PTA meeting.
Annette grabbed my wrist. “Okay, you just come home with me, then. We’ll get in the car and drive away. We can drop you off at your place.”
I wanted to agree. But how could I show them where I lived? And Ma was expecting me at the factory. Besides, Luke would just wait for me tomorrow, or the day after that. It would only get worse. He’d been staring at me for a while now.
“No,” I said. “I fight him.”
After school, I could taste the sour from my stomach in my mouth. I’d never been struck before. Even though I’d often seen fights in the school yard, I’d never been punched or kicked or spit upon. I had never hit anyone either. I’d done some tai chi in the park with Ma back home, but since most of the other students had been in their seventies, what we’d learned had hardly trained me for a street fight in Brooklyn.
Everyone had heard about the brawl, and a tight circle of kids reined
Similar Books
