Akeelah and the Bee by James W. Ellison

without enthusiasm. “But while you’re off doing these spelling bees, we might be visiting your brother in the morgue.” Suddenly she turned on Terrence and slapped him across the face.
    He backed up a step and held a hand to his cheek. “Why’d you do that? You’re one crazy lady, you know that?”
    She grabbed Terrence by the arm and dragged him into the house, followed closely by Kiana, leaving Akeelah standing out on the porch alone. She shook her head sadly, then slowly entered the house and locked the door. Akeelah could hear Tanya and Terrence continuing to argue in the living room. She went into her room and plopped down at her desk, trying to block out the shouting. She looked at the picture of her father.
    “Guess what, Daddy? I’m going to the State Bee. I might not get no further, but at least that’s something, isn’t it? I think it is.” She smiled, then looked up as a police siren passed by the house, followed by the piercing wail of an ambulance rushing to the usual South Los Angeles disaster, mixed in with the sounds of Tanya and Terrence shouting at each other in the next room.
    Akeelah’s eyes returned to the photograph of her father. His eyes seemed to stare back into hers. She nodded, as though something of importance had passed
between them. She lay on her bed fully clothed and closed her eyes.
    “‘Synecdoche,’” she said in a whisper. “S-y-n-e-c-d-o-c-h-e….”

    The next day, Akeelah sat in a window seat on a bus, looking out at the streets passing by. In her lap was a city map on which she had marked out the bus routes leading to Woodland Hills. She had Googled Woodland Hills the night before and the information she downloaded confirmed what she already knew: the community where Javier lived was a world removed from South Los Angeles. It was a community of well-maintained houses and well-run schools. It was a rich community, full of professional people—doctors, lawyers, and entertainers.
    It was a place that, most of all, existed only in Akeelah’s dreams and fantasies.
    She had skipped her afternoon classes to take Javier up on his invitation. She had brought along a copy of The Catcher in the Rye but was too excited to open it. Through the window she watched South Los Angeles become Mid-Wilshire become Koreatown become Hollywood. When the bus entered the Valley, Akeelah’s nose was to the window as she tried to take in the changing scene as it went by in a blur. She watched Studio City become Sherman Oaks become Encino. She was bemused by a group of rich white teenage girls who passed the bus in a convertible BMW, bouncing their heads to a rap song.
    The bus deposited Akeelah directly in front of the
Woodland Hills Middle School. It was clean, well maintained, and affluent—a dream school, Akeelah thought. The kind of place you would be eager to go to each morning. The kind of place where you would love to learn.
    She slowly entered the school grounds, went in the main door, along with some stragglers rushing back from lunch (the bell for class had already rung), and walked down the school’s center hall. She noticed that most of the kids were white, but there were some minority students—black, Hispanic, and Asian. She examined the students, looking for a familiar face. She spotted Dylan Watanabe through the open door of a classroom, seated behind a chemistry lab station. He was writing down numbers from a series of thermometers in four containers of liquids. Akeelah watched him for a moment before quietly approaching him.
    “Dylan?”
    He looked up to see her standing in front of him.
    “Hi,” she said. “My name’s Akeelah Anderson. I was in the District Bee with you last week.”
    Dylan hesitated and then said, “I remember.” His tone was cool and distant. He quickly looked away from her and returned to his work.
    “Uh…Javier said I could come and join your study group today. I hope that’s okay.”
    He waved a hand dismissively. “All the rejects do