Fifteen—When you are afraid, don’t let your body know it.
“I really didn’t hear what you said, if you said anything,” Mouse said, stuttering a little.
“I’ll see you after school.” Hammerman took his finger and touched Mouse on the chest and then passed him and started down the stairs.
“What?” Mouse asked.
Hammerman let the air come out of his nostrils in a sigh of disgust. Still, Mouse knew, a little thing like not having a worthy opponent wasn’t going to cause Marv Hammerman to give up the fight.
Without turning around Hammerman said, “After school.”
Mouse said, “Oh, sure.”
Hammerman went down the steps so smoothly he might have been sliding. Mouse went to his math class and sat down. He could still feel the place on his chest where Hammerman had touched him. He thought that if he opened his shirt he would be able to see a red dot there, marking the spot.
Across the room Ezzie was waving his arms to get Mouse’s attention. Mouse looked and watched Ezzie’s mouth form the question, “Did anything happen with Hammerman?” Mouse nodded. “What?”
Mouse said, “I’ll tell you later,” beneath his breath. He started turning through his notebook as if he were searching for an important paper.
A moment passed, and the boy next to Mouse touched his arm. “Ezzie wants you.”
Mouse nodded but continued looking through his papers. The boy nudged him again and jerked his thumb toward the far side of the room. “Ezzie.” With a sigh Mouse stopped looking in his notebook for the imaginary paper. He looked at Ezzie.
“What happened?” Ezzie asked again, pouncing on each word. “What happened with Hammerman?”
The teacher opened her book, looked up at the class and said, “Ezzie, could I have your attention please?”
Ezzie was beyond hearing the teacher. He leaned over the aisle. “What happened?”
“Ezzie!” the teacher said. Now he heard and looked up, startled. “Take your book and go to the board, will you?”
Ezzie stood up quickly, found his book and walked slowly up the aisle, holding the book in one hand. As he passed the teacher’s desk he said, “I didn’t have time to study much last night because my sister was sick. She made me put out the light.”
“Put the first problem on the board, please.”
Ezzie picked up the chalk and looked carefully at his book. Mouse also opened his book and tried to concentrate. It was amazing how difficult it was to get your mind off something, he thought.
Ezzie put the chalk to his lips. He appeared to be ready to drink a vial of white liquid, perhaps the “smart” medicine he was always hoping some scientist would discover—one sip and instant smartness. He said regretfully, “This was the one problem I didn’t get, Mrs. Romanoski, I remember now. I got all the others, but this one stumped me.
“It’s exactly like problem two.”
“It is?” His face was blanked by surprise.
“So if you got problem two, then you should be able to do problem one.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Mouse tried again to concentrate, but he couldn’t. The thought of Marv Hammerman filled his mind completely. He thought that if doctors were running an experiment on his brain, pouring ideas in, the ideas would just flow right out because there was no room left.
Slowly, glancing frequently at the book, Ezzie began to put his problem on the board. Mrs. Romanoski waited a minute and then said, “Ezzie, this is not an addition problem.”
“It isn’t?”
“No.”
“Are you kidding me, Mrs. Romanoski?”
“It is not addition.”
“Oh.” Quickly Ezzie erased the plus sign with his fingers, leaving a clear round spot on the dusty blackboard. “Wait a minute.” He hesitated. “Are we looking at the same problem?”
“Problem one.”
“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head from side to side. “Problem one.” He paused and then said in an enlightened voice, “What page, Mrs. Romanoski?”
“Page forty.”
“Yeah.” His
“I really didn’t hear what you said, if you said anything,” Mouse said, stuttering a little.
“I’ll see you after school.” Hammerman took his finger and touched Mouse on the chest and then passed him and started down the stairs.
“What?” Mouse asked.
Hammerman let the air come out of his nostrils in a sigh of disgust. Still, Mouse knew, a little thing like not having a worthy opponent wasn’t going to cause Marv Hammerman to give up the fight.
Without turning around Hammerman said, “After school.”
Mouse said, “Oh, sure.”
Hammerman went down the steps so smoothly he might have been sliding. Mouse went to his math class and sat down. He could still feel the place on his chest where Hammerman had touched him. He thought that if he opened his shirt he would be able to see a red dot there, marking the spot.
Across the room Ezzie was waving his arms to get Mouse’s attention. Mouse looked and watched Ezzie’s mouth form the question, “Did anything happen with Hammerman?” Mouse nodded. “What?”
Mouse said, “I’ll tell you later,” beneath his breath. He started turning through his notebook as if he were searching for an important paper.
A moment passed, and the boy next to Mouse touched his arm. “Ezzie wants you.”
Mouse nodded but continued looking through his papers. The boy nudged him again and jerked his thumb toward the far side of the room. “Ezzie.” With a sigh Mouse stopped looking in his notebook for the imaginary paper. He looked at Ezzie.
“What happened?” Ezzie asked again, pouncing on each word. “What happened with Hammerman?”
The teacher opened her book, looked up at the class and said, “Ezzie, could I have your attention please?”
Ezzie was beyond hearing the teacher. He leaned over the aisle. “What happened?”
“Ezzie!” the teacher said. Now he heard and looked up, startled. “Take your book and go to the board, will you?”
Ezzie stood up quickly, found his book and walked slowly up the aisle, holding the book in one hand. As he passed the teacher’s desk he said, “I didn’t have time to study much last night because my sister was sick. She made me put out the light.”
“Put the first problem on the board, please.”
Ezzie picked up the chalk and looked carefully at his book. Mouse also opened his book and tried to concentrate. It was amazing how difficult it was to get your mind off something, he thought.
Ezzie put the chalk to his lips. He appeared to be ready to drink a vial of white liquid, perhaps the “smart” medicine he was always hoping some scientist would discover—one sip and instant smartness. He said regretfully, “This was the one problem I didn’t get, Mrs. Romanoski, I remember now. I got all the others, but this one stumped me.
“It’s exactly like problem two.”
“It is?” His face was blanked by surprise.
“So if you got problem two, then you should be able to do problem one.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Mouse tried again to concentrate, but he couldn’t. The thought of Marv Hammerman filled his mind completely. He thought that if doctors were running an experiment on his brain, pouring ideas in, the ideas would just flow right out because there was no room left.
Slowly, glancing frequently at the book, Ezzie began to put his problem on the board. Mrs. Romanoski waited a minute and then said, “Ezzie, this is not an addition problem.”
“It isn’t?”
“No.”
“Are you kidding me, Mrs. Romanoski?”
“It is not addition.”
“Oh.” Quickly Ezzie erased the plus sign with his fingers, leaving a clear round spot on the dusty blackboard. “Wait a minute.” He hesitated. “Are we looking at the same problem?”
“Problem one.”
“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head from side to side. “Problem one.” He paused and then said in an enlightened voice, “What page, Mrs. Romanoski?”
“Page forty.”
“Yeah.” His
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