Kung Fooey (12 page)

I peeled the sticky note away and studied the man looking back at me in the shiny autographed black-and-white photograph.

W
hen I got home from school I went straight to my bedroom, propped Benny’s photo of my dad up on my desk, and sat on my lower bunk staring at it.

Rock on, Benny Obi!

He’d really done it. He’d actually seen
Little Johnny Coconut in Las Vegas. He hadn’t lied. He hadn’t made it up.

Boy, did I feel small.

Benny Obi, why were you so weird? How did you get that picture in my desk at school? Why did you change schools?

And why did you tell Tito you knew kung fu? That was really dumb, Benny. You should have …

No.

We
should have stepped up for you.

Streak scratched at my door. I got up to let her in.

“Wassup, dog?”

I flopped back down on my lower bunk. Streak jumped up and lay next to me. I closed my eyes. Benny Obi had given me his special autographed photo. And he’d found a way to sneak it into my desk without anyone seeing him. You don’t do stuff like that for just anybody.

I sighed and put my hand on Streak’s head. “I messed up, girl.”

Streak licked my hand.

I just wanted to lie there. I didn’t feel like doing anything.

When I finally opened my eyes I noticed the postcard on my desk, the one Stella had thrown in the trash.

I got up and stood looking down at it.

Kailua Bay never looked so good as it did in that picture on the card. An idea popped into my head.

Could I?

I frowned and searched for a pen.

Just do it.

I had no idea why I wrote that. It just came out. It’s like what Mr. Purdy told us about writing a story. Even though you might not know exactly what your story is about, or where it’s going, once you start writing, stuff happens. It’s magic.

Or dumb.

Now what?

I moved Benny Obi’s Little Johnny Coconut photograph next to my own Little Johnny Coconut photograph and stuck the postcard in my back pocket.

As I was heading out of my room, Clarence drove up in his big pink car. Stella was with him.

I went out into the sun.

Clarence lifted his chin, Hey.

I nodded back.

Stella got out with her books. She thunked the car door shut and leaned into the open window. “Thanks for the ride. Call me.”

Clarence winked, backed out, and drove off with a short toot of the horn.

Stella and I watched him drive away.

Then she seemed to realize for the first time that I was standing next to her. “Why are
you
here?”

“Why not?”

She squinted. “You’re pushing it, Stump.”

“Why not?”

Stella banged past me, heading through the garage and into the house. I followed her, catching the door as it was about to slam into my face. “Hey!”

“Sorry,” she said in fake surprise. “I didn’t see you. Oh, that’s why … I forgot. You shrunk.”

Stella laughed and dropped her books on the kitchen counter.

“Why are you following me around?”

“Why not?”

“This is why not,” she said, moving toward me. “I don’t like it; it’s annoying; you’re getting on my nerves. Beat it.”

“Fine. But I have something for you.”

“And what might that be?” Stella eyed me.

I pulled the postcard out of my back pocket and handed it to her. “You should send this to your mom.”

Stella read it.

She held it a long time, just looking at it.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Stump …”

I waited, nervous about what I’d done.

Stella opened her eyes and held the card up close to my face. She ripped it in half. “Mind your own business.”

The postcard, now in two pieces, went back into the trash under the sink.

I bit my lower lip.

Another dumb idea.

F
ive minutes after me, Willy, and Julio walked into the schoolyard the next day, Tito and his doofy shadows came up and got in my face.

“Where’s Kung Fu-Fu? How come I don’t see him here? Where he’s at, ah? Hiding from me? Crying to his mommy? Tell me, you so brave.”

Bozo and Frankie Diamond closed in on the sides.

Julio and Willy stepped back.

“He’s gone,” I said. “Because of you.”

Tito grinned. “You kine of cocky today, ah?”

“You didn’t have to embarrass him.”

Tito poked my chest with his finger. “Maybe I embarrass you.”

Julio and Willy came back and stood beside me.

“You can try,” I said.

For a second no one said anything. Bozo bounced on his toes, ready to fight. Frankie Diamond stayed where he was.

Tito gave us supreme stink eye.

Then he burst out laughing. “Hoo, you should see your face! So scared! No worry, liddle punks, you know Tito don’t fight wit’ weaklings. No make shi-shi pants, everything’s cool.”

He raised his hands in fake surrender.

All three of them strutted away like
peacocks, banging into each other, laughing their heads off.

My knees felt like jelly. I sucked in a deep breath.

“Man!” Julio said. “Why did you do that? You could’ve got us killed!”

“That was for Benny.”

“Why? He’s not even here anymore.”

I nodded. “Yeah … but I am.”

Julio spat. “You’re getting as weird as he was, you know?”

I held up karate-chop hands. “Back off, boogaloo! I know kung fu.”

After dinner that night, I was in my room with Streak trying to dig up some of Mr. Purdy’s writing magic when Mom came in. “Working hard?” she said, closing the door behind her.

“I have to write a one-page paper.”

“On what?”

“Ridicule.”

Mom’s eyebrows went up. “Interesting. I like how your teacher makes you think about things.”

I nodded.

Mom had something in her hand. She glanced around my room. “I don’t get out here enough.”

I shrugged. “I know, it’s messy.”

She laughed. “That’s for sure … but it’s not what I meant. Anyway, have you seen this?”

She held it out.

I took it.