EllRay Jakes Is Not a Chicken (4 page)

Read EllRay Jakes Is Not a Chicken Online

Authors: Sally Warner

BOOK: EllRay Jakes Is Not a Chicken
8.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“No one,” I say, snapping out the words. But a picture of Jared's head has floated into my imagination like a big ugly balloon.
“There's a boy boss and a girl boss, right?” Alfie asks, trying to work it out.
“Nobody's the boss,” I repeat. “But I guess Jared Matthews is the meanest boy, and Cynthia Harbison is the meanest girl.”
“Then I hate them,” Alfie says, as loyal to me as I am to her.
“You don't have to hate them,” I tell her. “But you're lucky you don't have to go to school with them, that's for sure.”
Alfie plays in silence for a few quiet minutes, just long enough for me to get into my game once more. Then, sure enough, she thinks of something else to say. “But if Jared and Cynthia moved away,” she says, “and so did Suzette, there'd probably just be someone else being the meanest. Or the bossiest.”
I look up just long enough to mess up my score. “I guess you're right,” I say, surprised that she could figure something like this out all by herself.
“'Course I'm right, EllWay,” she tells me. “Because there can't just be three holes in the world where those mean kids used to be.”
“I guess not,” I say, giving up and turning off my game.
Sometimes, when I talk to Alfie, I feel like I'm on a merry-go-round that just keeps spinning, no matter how much I want to get off. “I'm gonna go to bed,” I tell my spacey little sister. “I think I'm getting a headache.”
“Try sleeping with your feet on the pillow,” she calls after me. “Because maybe then your headache will get mixed up and go someplace else!”
Let's hope she doesn't want to be a doctor when she grows up, be a doctor whe that's all.
5
GLOM
“You were almost late,” Annie Pat whispers as I slide into my seat on Tuesday morning. Her red pigtails shine like two orange highway cones.
“I was
almost
late, but I'm
not
late. There's a big difference,” I inform Annie Pat, just as Ms. Sanchez begins to take roll.
Annie Pat blinks her dark blue eyes once and looks confused. She can usually count on me to make at least one goofy face or blarty noise first thing in the morning.
Not this week, though.
See, I have a plan, and this morning I timed things just right.
What I did was this: I sneaked into school early, and then I washed my hands for ten minutes in the boys' bathroom so I wouldn't see Jared or Stanley.
It wasn't because I am scared of them, though. I'm just being careful.
My plan is to avoid trouble
all week long
by doing something else or being someplace else whenever Jared or Stanley comes looking for me. But it's just for this week.
Ms. Sanchez starts announcing stuff, as usual, and I start daydreaming, as usual. But now I have something exciting to daydream about. Disneyland!
And today,
TUESDAY
, the world—or at least Ms. Sanchez's third grade class at Oak Glen Primary School in Oak Glen, California—is going to see me, EllRay Jakes, being a perfect kid.
“Pay attention, Mr. Jakes,” Ms. Sanchez says, sounding tired already—and it's not even nine o'clock in the morning.
“Hurry up, EllRay, or all the kickballs will be gone,” Corey calls out, speeding past me on his way out the door for nutrition break, which is recess with healthy snacks, basically. At least they're
supposed
to be healthy.
“Yeah,” Kevin calls over his shoulder. He is moving as fast as a person can humanly move without actually running, because there is
No Running
in the halls at Oak Glen Primary School.
And that is only one of our school's many, many rules.
I sneak out the door while Jared and Stanley are still getting their snacks out of their grubby backpacks. Jared and Stanley love nutrition break because they love eating, but Corey, Kevin, and I usually eat our snacks—and some of our lunch, too—
before
school, so we'll have more time to play.
And—I'm out the door, and I'm free!
Now, the trick will be to glom onto a group of kids so Jared and Stanley can't yank me aside and grind my ribs, hoist my pants hurting-high, or knuckle my hair.
And I'll have to do the same sneaking away and glomming at lunch, too.
And at recess.
And after school. For three more days.
Glomming is going to take all my attention. I sure hope Ms. Sanchez doesn't expect me to learn anything new this week!
6
BUK, BUK, BUK
“Ooo,” Jared whispers at lunch. “Here he is,
finally
. What's the matter, EllRay? Scared to be alone with us?”
“Yeah,” Stanley chimes in, his voice soft. “
BUK, BUK, BUK!
”
This is his idea of how a chicken talks, I guess, which is just dumb, because chickens do not talk. But basically, Stanley is saying that I'm chicken.
“Shut up,” I tell him out of the side of my mouth.
I suddenly realize, though, that I am sitting at the end of the picnic table bench, not somewhere safe in the middle—like between Corey and Kevin, for example. Or even between two girls, if girls sat at our table—which they don't, lately, ever since the food fight.
But that's a whole different story.
Uh-oh. I have made a b-i-i-i-g mistake.
Jared makes a knuckly fist and secretly starts twisting it into my ribs, which are still aching from yesterday's knuckle-grinding. He smiles at everyone else in a fake-friendly way while he is doing it, so they won't know something bad is happening.
Stanley stands back and watches the knuckling, and his eyes are nervous and bright behind his smudged glasses. They look even more lizard-like than usual.
Every single rib I have on that side burns, and I try not to cringe, but I can feel myself starting to get mad.
Okay. When I lose my temper, three things happen:
1. First, I can feel all the juices inside my body start racing around really fast.
2. Then my heart starts pounding so hard I can barely hear people talk.
3. And then my hands get clenchy.
Orange sparks may fly out of my ears, for all I know!
Seated across from me, Kevin does not know why I am leaning over so far. “Hey, EllRay, you're going to fall,” he says, giving me a friendly smile. Then he goes back to eating his sandwich, a gigantic grinder with pink flaps of meat hanging out. Kevin's hand grips the roll as if it might try to escape from him at any moment.
It would if it could!
“Yeah. Stop crowding, EllRay,” Jared tells me, giving me an extra-hard knuckle twist.
“
Yowtch!
Quit it, Jared,” I yell.
“‘
Quit it, Jared
,'” Stanley says in a whiny voice, trying to copy me—even though I didn't really whine. Like I said, I yelled. In a manly way.
I try to count to ten, which is what my mom says to do when I start getting mad.
One, two, three, four.
My lips move a little as I silently run through the numbers.
“Oh, look. He's gonna cry. The widdle baby's sad,” Jared says, sounding happy. Then he throws back his head and gives his famous
HAW—HAW—HAW
laugh.
“I'm not crying,” I say, trying to get to my feet.
I do not want to get into trouble, even at lunch, because the lunch monitor would tell Ms. Sanchez. Then Ms. Sanchez would call my parents, and bye-bye Disneyland on Saturday.
But do I want to go through the rest of my life saying, “
BUK, BUK, BUK
”?
No way!
7
IT'S DIFFERENT WITH MY MOM
My mom thinks there is always a reason when people—especially kids—are mean, but even though I am only eight years old, I know better.

Other books

Neurolink by M M Buckner
Wisdom Seeds by Patrice Johnson
Sarah Of The Moon by Randy Mixter
Maybe Tonight by Kim Golden
Call Me Sister by Yeadon, Jane
The 50 Worst Terrorist Attacks by Edward Mickolus, Susan L. Simmons
Nature's Destiny by Winter, Justine
The Love of the Dead by Saunders, Craig
The Neighbor by Lisa Gardner