The Battle of Jericho by Sharon M. Draper Page B

room, yelling, “Take us for a ride! Take us for a ride!”
    â€œYou never did get the paper,” Geneva said mildly.
    â€œOh, let me go get it! I’ll do anything you ask! I’ll go naked in the snow and then read it to you—even the ads!” Jericho felt as giddy as the boys.
    â€œWith clothes will be fine,” Geneva laughed. “And Jericho,” she added, “your mother helped with this. She was the real reason we were able to swing it.”
    Jericho breathed a silent word of thanks to his mother and promised himself to call her back as soon as possible. He went back outside, found his father’s shoes in the snow, got the newspaper, and stood there in the icy air, marveling at the wonderful little red car that sat in the driveway.
    When he got back into the house, he was shivering with cold and excitement. “You know, Jericho,” his father began, “driving a car is a big responsibility. The dangers almost outweigh the freedom it will give you. We’ll start off slowly with your driving privileges, and as you show you can handle the responsibilities involved, we’ll let you drive more. Agreed?”
    â€œYeah, sure, Dad. Anything you say. I promise I’ll be careful. I promise.” Jericho meant every word.
    â€œYou get one ticket and we pull the keys. Got it?”
    â€œGot it.”
    â€œYour grades go down, we pull the keys. Got it?”
    â€œGot it.”
    Geneva sipped her coffee, nodding through this exchange. “You know, Jericho,” she said finally, “I was against the idea of getting you a car at first, but you seem to have matured a little lately—I like the way you’ve takenon so much responsibility in working with a strong, positive group like the Warriors. I’m proud of you.” Jericho couldn’t believe his ears. Could she actually have complimented him?
    â€œThanks, Geneva. Really. I promise I won’t let you down. Ever.” He almost felt like hugging her again.
    â€œCan we trust you, Jericho?” his father asked finally.
    â€œI will never make you sorry, Dad. Promise. For real. Can I go and just sit in it for a few minutes?”
    â€œGo ahead,” his father chuckled. “But you might want to get dressed first.”
    Jericho ran upstairs and was pulling some clothes on when the phone rang. It was Arielle.
    â€œMerry Christmas, Jericho,” she said pleasantly. “Was Santa good to you?”
    â€œOh, Merry Christmas to you too, Arielle,” he said with excitement. “I don’t know about Santa, but guess what my folks had sitting in the driveway this morning? A car!”
    â€œYou’re kidding! A car? Jericho, that is so awesome!” He could hear the excitement in Arielle’s voice. “What does it look like?”
    â€œIt’s not new—I think it’s a ’94—but it’s a Grand Am, and it’s red and it’s mine!” he said with glee. “Maybe they’ll let me drive it to the New Year’s Eve party next week.”
    â€œWouldn’t that be awesome?” she said softly. “Wait till I tell November and Dana. Can you drive it over here this afternoon?”
    â€œThey’ve put all kinds of rules and regulations on my driving for now, so I’m not gonna make any waves. I don’twant anything to happen to mess this up, so I’ll ask later.”
    â€œI feel ya,” Arielle said. “I’ll be here all day. Call me if they let you loose with the keys. I’m really happy for you, Jericho.”
    â€œThanks, Arielle. I’ll call you later, and Merry Christmas!”

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 28
    THREE DAYS AFTER CHRISTMAS THE WEATHER turned unseasonably warm, and most of the snow had melted. Jericho had been allowed to drive his car a bit—to the store for Geneva, to the post office for his dad, and to his friends’ houses to show off. Most of the time, Todd and Rory were tucked