Double Dutch (19 page)

“I told her about my problems at school—my broken brain. You're right about parents being backward. It's amazing she never figured it out. I dumped it all on her.”

“How'd she take it? What'd she say?” asked Yo Yo.

“I think she felt bad, like she was a bad parent or something. But basically she was pretty cool.”

“I am so glad that's out of the box. Lies will get you nowhere,” Yolanda said mischievously.

Delia laughed. “Look who's talking—the teen queen of extreme!” Trying to change the subject, she asked Yolanda, “So, how's it going with your double dudes?”

“Two is better than one, I guess. Believe it or not, they're really shy, but they're very good at acting mean.”

“They fooled me,” Delia said, shuddering as she remembered.

“Let's put it this way—we won't be going on any double dates anytime soon. They're not ready for Yolanda's fast track yet!”

Delia chuckled and looked at the clock. “Hey, I gotta call Randy before it gets too late. I'll catch you tomorrow, Yo Yo. Bye.”

Delia called Bomani's house, but the answering machine picked up, so she dialed Randy's number, not really expecting an answer. She was surprised when she heard his deep bass voice. “Randy! I didn't really expect you to be there. What's going on?”

Randy didn't sound glad to hear from Delia. She knew he still had to be very angry. “I came to get a few clothes and my cat. Bomani says she can stay in his garage as long as I'm staying there with him.” He said nothing else.

Delia hesitated. “Did you call the phone number on the flyer?”

“Yeah,” Randy replied.

She could hear him breathing slowly on the other end. “What did they say?” she whispered.

“It's my dad, for sure,” Randy answered with feeling. “I
described the mole on his nose and the tattoo on his left arm that he got in the army.”

“Did they give you any information about him? Like what happened? Is he gonna be okay?”

Randy's voice sounded choked. “From what I can figure out, his truck was found abandoned in Texas but from what they can piece together, he never even got out of Ohio. He was beat up by more than one person, the doctor told me. Knowing Dad, he probably picked up some hitchhikers again. He trusts everybody.”

“Go on,” Delia prodded. “What else did they tell you?”

“They took all his identification, his cell phone, his money—as well as his truck—and left him for dead after beating him in the head with a hammer.”

Delia shuddered. “Oh, no! Your poor dad! Randy, I'm so sorry you have to go through this.”

“Some lady on vacation from Canada found him and called the police, but they had no way of knowing who he was. He was almost dead. The doctor said he just started coming out of it a few days ago—around the time of the tornado. They sent flyers out by fax to places within a hundred miles of Columbus to see if anybody recognized him.”

“Well, I'm glad I recognized the picture, at least. If it had been all words, I would never have known,” Delia told him with real remorse.

“Well, I'm glad you can read pictures,” Randy said tersely.

Delia could hear the anger in his voice. She asked quietly, “Is he going to recover?”

“I think so. The doctor said he's talking a little now, about trucks and cats.”

“That's good!” Delia said, trying to sound cheerful. “Are you going to go see him soon? Is Bomani going to take you? Maybe me and my mom could drive you up to Columbus,” she offered. “It's the least I can do-I feel like some of this is my fault.”

“No!” Randy replied loudly. “Bomani's gonna take me up there in the morning. I gotta go, Delia.” He hung up without saying good-bye.

Delia stared into the phone for a moment, feeling empty and lost.

T
HE NEXT MORNING, AS
R
ANDY CLIMBED INTO
B
OMANI'S
van, he asked, “Hey, Bomani? Do you mind if we make one stop before we head to Columbus? I gotta see a friend. It will only take a minute.”

“Sure, Randy. No problem,” Bomani replied easily. Randy gave directions, and as soon as the van stopped, Randy bounded out of the door and into the pawn shop.

“Hey, Mr. Clifford! Remember me?” Randy called out as he entered the dimly lit store.

Mr. Clifford, who Randy was sure had on the same gray sweater he'd had on when he had first met him, ambled slowly from the back of the store.
It's probably the same cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth,
Randy thought, chuckling. Mr. Clifford, purple-rimmed glasses on his nose, smiled broadly when he saw Randy. “Ah, Mr. Youngblood,” he said. “You have more valuables to offer me?”

“No, man. I, uh, I just wanted to let you know my dad is gonna be okay. And I wanted to, you know, uh, thank you. You kept me from drowning. If you want me to help you out around here after school or something, I can do that now—at least when my dad is back to work.” Randy looked at the floor.

“Stop by anytime, Youngblood.”

Randy grinned, yelled his thanks once more, and bounded out of the door and back to Bomani's van, thanking him for stopping.

“What was that all about?” Bomani asked.

“Just an old friend,” Randy said quietly. “He helped me when I was down.” He said nothing more, but sank into the seat and gazed out the window.

“What about your other friends—like Delia?” Bomani asked as they drove through the Sunday morning traffic on I-71.

“What about her?” Randy replied gruffly.

“I heard you hang up on her yesterday,” Bomani told him. “I bet she's feeling pretty bad about all this.”

“Tough!” Randy felt his anger returning.

Bomani said nothing else for several miles.

“If I hadn't found that piece of paper, Delia might have thrown it away. I might have been alone forever!”

“But you did, and she didn't, and you won't. So give the kid a break,” Bomani suggested.

This time, Randy was silent for several miles. He thought about Delia as he watched the rural countryside whiz by. And he thought about his father.

“I'm scared,” Randy said finally. “Maybe my dad won't recognize me. Maybe it will never be like it used to be between us.”

“Everything changes, Randy, and yet somehow things remain constant. Every year I have a different group of kids in Double Dutch, with different needs and problems, but somehow, everything manages to stay the same, except I think I'm getting older!” Bomani chuckled.

They rode the rest of the way in thoughtful silence.

L
ATE SUNDAY AFTERNOON
D
ELIA SAT ON THE FRONT STEPS
of her house, wishing she had a large, wraparound porch like the houses she had seen on TV, but she and her mom had only three front steps and a small landing that barely left enough room for a chair. Delia, wearing her red jacket, and a pair of blue jeans that were fresh from the dryer, sat in a kitchen chair that she had dragged outside so she could enjoy the soft spring breezes. It was a day of beauty—the kind of day you read about in books, she thought. As she watched the high, thin clouds brush across the sky, it seemed as if the storms of the last week were a memory of the distant past.

But she had plenty of new storms to deal with. Her mother was inside on the phone, having another argument with her father-this time about whose fault it was that Delia had a reading problem.

She had resigned herself to the reality that she had to face that state test eventually, and she knew that she'd probably have to take it several times before she conquered it. But as she touched the bright red silkiness of her jacket, she was determined to do it.

Yo Yo had called earlier, rattling on about the Tollivers and Jesse, who didn't like the idea that the Tollivers had
been calling her. She loved it. Delia didn't tell Yolanda, but she envied her. Yo Yo breezed through school and collected boyfriends along the way.

Delia looked up at one small dark cloud in the bright sky and thought of Randy. The loss of his friendship hurt more than listening to her parents fight. Angry at herself for not being able to read, and feeling stupid as well, she hated the fact that her problems had caused Randy pain. Delia wondered how the visit went with Randy's father.

Her mother came to the door then. Delia could tell she had been crying. “I'm sorry, Mom,” Delia said.

“No, sweetheart, I'm the one who's sorry. We're going to work this out, I promise.”

“I know, Mom. It's not your fault. I'm gonna try real hard.” Delia wanted to change the subject. “Are you off the phone? I want to call Bomani.”

“Oh, my goodness! I almost forgot. Randy's on the phone. I'm so glad he called—it gave me a reason to get off the line with your father. I'll bring the phone out here.”

Delia's heart pounded as her mother handed her the phone. “Hi, Randy,” she said softly.

“What's up?” he replied.

Delia thought he sounded really subdued. “Did you see your dad?”

“Yeah, we just got back. Oh, Delia, he's gonna be fine. He looked like a little skinny, older, slightly beat-up version of himself, but he almost jumped out of his bed when he saw me. His whole face was a big ol' grin!”

“I'm so glad, Randy. Will he be able to come home soon?”

“Yeah, the doctor said my visit made a big difference, so my dad can probably come home in just a few days.”

“That's real good news, Randy,” Delia said with feeling. “I am so glad.”

“I guess I'd better clean up the house a little before he gets here. I'm so excited!”

“Randy, I've been thinking about you all day,” Delia admitted. “I'm so sorry—about everything.” She giggled a little. “Actually I just had this same conversation with my mother!”

“It's not your fault, Delia. Actually, if it hadn't been for you, and for that Double Dutch tournament, I never would have seen that flyer.”

“Well, I still feel pretty stupid. By the way, me and my mom had a long talk. I told her everything. Monday she's taking me to some learning center to get tested, and maybe in a hundred years I can actually pass a test!” She lowered her voice. “It's a little embarrassing.”

“It won't take that long, Delia,” Randy said. “You wear that red championship jacket when you go and they will know they're dealing with a winner!”

“Thanks-and Randy?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm glad you're back.”

“Me, too.”

Delia's eyes stung with tears as she hung up the phone. She wiped her eyes, then sat quietly on her little porch, trying to make sense of everything—Double Dutch, the tornado, the Tollivers, Randy and his dad, and all the secrets that had almost destroyed several lives. Delia listened to the cars as they whizzed by. The movement of the cars on the
street, the clouds scudding across the sky, and even the beating of her heart made her think of the sounds and rhythms of the ropes when she jumped. She smiled and headed back into the house, carrying the rhythms with her.

Many thanks to all of the dynamic jumpers on the Cincinnati Double Dutch teams, and to all the participants in the World Championships. You are all champions! For more information about how to start a Double Dutch team in your community, please write to:
The American Double Dutch League
4220 Eads Street, N.E.
Washington, D.C. 20019
1-800-982-ADDL
www.addl.org

Atheneum Books for Young Readers
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, New York 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2002 by Sharon Draper

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

Book design by O'Lanso Gabbidon
The text of this book is set in Baskerville.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Draper, Sharon M. (Sharon Mills)
Double Dutch / by Sharon M. Draper.
p. cm.
Summary: Three eighth-grade friends, preparing for the International Double Dutch Championship jump rope competition in their home town of Cincinnati, Ohio, cope with Randy's missing father, and Yo Yo's encounter with the class bullies, and a secret Delia is too embarrassed to share.
ISBN 0-689-84230-9
eISBN 978-1-4424-3545-2
[1. Rope skipping—Fiction. 2. Contests—Fiction. 3. Dyslexia—Fiction.
4. Friendship—Fiction. 5. Schools—Fiction. 6. Afro-Americans—Fiction.
7. Cincinnati (Ohio)—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.D78325 Do 2002
[Fic]—dc21 00-050247