Kung Fooey (9 page)

Later, at recess, we were sitting on the grass in the shade of a monkeypod tree—Julio, Willy, Rubin, Benny Obi, and me. Benny had attached himself to us whether we wanted him to or not.

Julio leaned close and whispered, “Watch this.”

He let a few seconds pass: nice day, nothing going on.

Then: “Hey, Benny, that was funny what you did yesterday. I mean, eating bugs and all.”

“What?”

“Where did you get them, anyway?”

“What?”

“Did they taste good?”

“What?”

Rubin and Willy burst out laughing.

I looked at Benny.

Benny grinned.

“See?” Julio said. “A one-word day.”

I grinned back. Where did he come up with this stuff?

Julio lay back on the grass and covered his face with his hands. “He’s going to drive me crazy.”

“Hey, stupits,” somebody said.

Julio sat back up.

Tito, Bozo, and Frankie Diamond stood over us.

I reached into my pocket and was relieved to discover that I was broke. Tito had a habit of borrowing your money. Permanently.

Tito crouched by Benny, one knee cocked forward. “Hey, Kung Fu, I heard you eat bugs.”

“What?”

Tito squinted. “I heard you eat bugs, I said. Is that right? You eat bugs?”

“What?”

Tito stood.

Oh, man. Benny had no idea who he was messing with.

“Benny,” I whispered. “Not now.”

Benny looked at me. Luckily he didn’t say
what
.

Bozo and Frankie Diamond gave us looks that said trouble was coming. Soon.

Tito squatted back down, his face inches from Benny’s. “You disrespecting me, punk? That what you doing?”

Benny hesitated. “What?”

I cringed.

Tito stared at Benny. “Get up,” he whispered.

Benny thought about it and, lucky for all of us, got up.

Tito was taller. He looked down on Benny. “I don’t like you.”

Tito shoved Benny, not hard, but enough to make Benny stagger. “We go, punk. Shake it up. You and me. Right now.”

“What?”

Ho!

I scrambled up with Julio, Willy, and Rubin. We backed away.

Tito swung, but Benny ducked and Tito missed.

Tito’s face turned red. He started to move toward Benny.

Benny took a stance, anchoring his feet. “I know kung fu,” he said, ending his one-word day. “I can’t fight you. I could hurt you.”

Whoa!

Tito blinked, then snorted. “I got something better. It’s called kung-you-dead fu.”

Tito moved in, shoving Benny.

Benny staggered back, planted his foot, and charged, his arms wheeling like a loose propeller … hitting nothing.

Tito laughed and slapped Benny’s arms away.

Benny Obi didn’t know how to fight. He didn’t know boxing, wrestling, or regular old street-shoving, and he sure didn’t know a lick of kung fu.

Zero.

Tito laughed, dancing away from every
one of Benny’s useless windmill swings. “What a sissy. You don’t know kung fu, what you know is kung fu-fu. That’s what I going call you. From now on you going be Kung Fu-Fu.” Tito whooped. “Fu-Fu, Fu-Fu, Fu-Fu.”

“Stop!” someone shouted.

Tito turned.

Benny ran off, heading toward the library.

Maya came up and shoved Tito. She was even shorter than Benny Obi. “Why are you always picking on people smaller than you? Does it make you feel big?”

Aiy, Maya. What are you
doing
?

Tito raised his hands, grinning. “Ho, look. The girl more brave than Kung Fu-Fu.”

“Tito,” Frankie Diamond whispered. “Teacher coming.”

I looked behind me. Mr. Tanaka, the
school librarian, was heading toward us.

Tito, still grinning, backed away. He pointed at Maya as if to say, We can talk about this later. He turned and followed his idiot friends toward the tree they’d staked out as their own.

Mr. Tanaka walked up. “We have a problem here?”

We all shook our heads.

Maya scowled at us but said nothing.

Mr. Tanaka crossed his arms and looked over at Tito, Bozo, and Frankie Diamond. “Ohhh-kay,” he said, and strolled away.

“Ho, man,” I mumbled.

“What?” Julio said.

“I said, ho, man.”

“What?”

O
n Saturday morning, I woke up to the sound of someone talking outside my window. I rolled over to look out.

Stella?

I rubbed my eyes and popped up on my elbows. Stella had a booklet in her hand. Who was she talking to? I couldn’t see anyone else.

“Residential neighborhood, twenty-five. School zone, twenty. Driver on the left has the right of way. Never—”

“What are you doing?” I said through the screen. “Who you talking to?”

Stella turned to look at my window, then moved out into the street. Now all I could hear was mumbling.

I slipped off my bunk.

Streak was sleeping on the floor. “Rise and shine, you lazy dog. Go out and pee.”

She slapped her tail on the floor but made no move to get up.

“It’s your bladder,” I said, and went into the house. Mom, who sold jewelry at Macy’s in Honolulu, had already left for work. But Darci was finishing up a toasted bagel in the kitchen.

“What’s with Stella?” I asked. “She’s outside talking to herself.”

“She’s practicing.”

“For what?”

“Did you forget? She’s getting her driver’s license today. Clarence is taking her.”

Right! Driving test day.

Darci brushed the crumbs off her hands. “I’m going to Reena’s house.”

She left.

I gulped down a bowl of cereal and peeked in on Streak to see if she was ready to get up.

Nope. “You’re worse than Julio, you know that?”

Streak looked up at me and slapped her tail on the floor.

I nudged her with my foot. “Come on, Streak. I can’t just leave you inside.” I wanted to go outside to see what Stella was doing.

Streak stretched and followed me out of the garage.

No Stella. Where was—

“What the—”

Stella was sitting in my rowboat, which was pulled up into the swamp grass down by the water. She held the booklet loosely over the side and stared out at the slow-moving river.

I followed Streak down the sloping yard.

“You can sit in my boat,” I said. “No problem. I’ll let you.”

Stella turned and studied me. “What do you want?”

“What’s that booklet?”

“Driver’s manual. What’s it to you?”

“But you took that test a long time ago.”

“I’m taking another one.”

“The driving one.”

“See? You do have a brain. Sometimes.”

I let that go. I was still feeling bad about the Antlix, and what Stella’s mom had said to her. That was so … mean.

I squatted to pet Streak. “Uh … you want me to quiz you?”

When Stella didn’t answer, I stood. “Guess not.” I turned to head back up to the house.

“Here,” she said, waving the booklet in my direction. “Just pick stuff at random.”

Everything I asked her she got right, except for one thing.

“Here’s a weird one,” I said. “What’s a space cushion?”

Stella eyed me. “Is that really in there or are you making it up?”