The Newsy News Newsletter (2 page)

"You try it!" Darnell calls out to Evan.

"I don't think Evan is going to be able to do that," Deja says to Nikki.

"I don't think so, either," Nikki agrees. She has a bad feeling.

Slowly, Evan rides his skateboard halfway down the block.

"He looks scared," Deja says.

Evan stops and turns around. He seems to be looking at the crates and measuring them in his mind.

"Come on!" Robert calls out. "What's takin' you so long?"

"This is not good," Deja says.

Then Evan starts up, gaining speed as he pumps away.

"Push on the back foot and bend your knees just before you get to the crates!" yells Darnell.

But instead of pushing on the back end of the board, instead of bending his knees and riding the board as it sails over the crates, Evan crashes into them, and his body crumples over.

Nikki holds her breath, her eyes as big as saucers. Deja holds her breath, too. Finally Deja says, "Oh, no..." Nikki is speechless. There is a long moment of stunned silence on both sides of the street.

Then Evan lets out a long wail. It starts low and begins to build, like a siren.

Darnell's front door flies open, and out stomps his mother in hair curlers. "What on earth! What on earth are you boys up to?" She rushes to Evan's side, looks down, then gently helps him up.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," Evan wails. He is holding his arm funny and walking almost bent in half. "Ow, ow, ow!"

"Get in the house, Darnell!" his mother yells.

Suddenly, Darnell doesn't seem so big and bad. He looks scared, like he is going to get it. He meekly follows his mother and Evan into his house.

Nikki looks over at Deja and sees that her lips are drawn in, as if she is trying to keep from laughing.

"Are you going to laugh?" Nikki asks, shocked.

"Not at Evan—at Darnell." They watch Robert step on his skateboard and glide away. "Darnell looked so scared," Deja says. "And his mother looked so funny in those curlers."

Moments later, Darnell's mom, without the curlers, and Evan, with a tear-stained face, come out of the house. They get into her car. Nikki and Deja watch them slowly pull out of the driveway.

"Wonder where they're going?" Nikki says, more to herself than to Deja.

"To the hospital, what do you think?"

"Something's always happening on Fulton Street," Nikki says.

"Remember when Vianda's cat, Bianca, came back?" Deja asks.

"Oh, yeah." Nikki stops to remember the details. "She just came walking up the street after
she'd been gone a real long time. And she had a split ear."

"And it's still split."

"And then, remember on Sunday, Mr. Robinson locked himself out of his house in his robe when he went to get the paper, and his wife was sound asleep and she wouldn't wake up and let him in?"

"That was so funny. He was pounding on the front door so loud,
I
woke up." Nikki and Deja laugh, remembering. Suddenly Nikki stops, and her eyes get big again. "We need a newspaper! A Fulton Street newspaper that tells all the stuff that happens on our street!"

Deja frowns. "We can't have a newspaper for just one street."

"Then we can have a newsletter. It can come out once a month. We can call it the
Fulton Street Newsy News Newsletter.
"

Deja looks off toward Mrs. Markham's rosebushes. "What's newsy news?"

Nikki is ready with an answer. "News that's interesting. Not just saying someone planted a new rosebush. But like if their rosebush won a prize!" Nikki begins to feel excitement in her stomach. She can be the reporter. Deja can be the editor—whatever they do. This would help give her experience for when she grows up and becomes a real reporter. Nikki looks up the street.
Then she looks down the street. It is quiet and still, but she bets there are stories everywhere! Then she thinks of something—a little glitch. "Who's going to read our newsletter?"

"We'll get subscriptions," Deja says with confidence.

"How are we going to do that?"

"We'll type up a form on my auntie's computer, then we'll make copies, then we'll go door-to-door. And it's okay, because we know everybody on this street."

Nikki hesitates before asking the next question. "Should we charge money?"

"Of course," Deja says quickly.

"How much do you think, Deja?"

"A quarter," Deja says. "People don't think a quarter's all that much. They'll pay a quarter like that!" She snaps her fingers to emphasize her point.

Nikki considers this. The idea grows more and more appealing. How many houses are on Fulton Street? Just the part between Marin and Maynard? Maybe ten on each side. "Let's count the houses on both sides between Marin and Maynard Boulevard."

She jumps up and runs to the curb. She looks both ways and then runs across the street to the other side. "I'll count the houses on your side and you count the houses on mine," she calls to Deja.

They meet back on Nikki's porch. There are exactly nine houses on each side of Fulton Street between Marin and Maynard Boulevard. They can't quite figure out how much money eighteen quarters are, so Nikki pulls out her notepad and kitty pen and begins to work out the problem. "We have to multiply," she says.

"I know that already," Deja says. She stares at the problem. "Ms. Shelby hasn't taught us how to do that kind of multiplication yet, though."

Ms. Shelby hasn't taught two-place multipliers yet, but Nikki's daddy had tried to explain it once. Nikki tries to solve the problem, but she can't remember how to do the steps. She decides it would be better to just go get a calculator. "I'm going to go get a calculator. I'll be back." She disappears into the house and soon returns with her mom's calculator in her hand.

"Four dollars and fifty cents," Nikki says, once she's punched in the numbers. They both stare at the figure for a few seconds. "That's not very much. You try, Deja."

Deja takes her turn punching in the numbers. They see the same figure displayed.

"Maybe we can charge more. Like thirty cents," Nikki suggests.

"No, that's too complicated. Then people will have to find a nickel to go with the quarter, and if it's too hard, they'll hand you a dollar rather than go through the trouble, and you're all the time gonna be trying to make change."

Deja is right.
Deja always knows about these things,
Nikki thinks.

"We can have the newsletter come out twice a month rather than just once a month," Nikki offers.

Deja sighs. "Nikki, no street has that much news."

"Let's try it," Nikki says.

Deja shrugs, which is as good as saying okay.

They settle back on their elbows and look up and down the block. At that moment, Fulton Street looks as if it has no news at all. They are quiet for a bit, then Nikki says, "Ooh, ooh! We can write all about how I won the I Spy key chain from the grab bag."

Deja doesn't say anything.

"That would be good, wouldn't it, Deja?"

Deja sighs again, loudly, as if she is trying to show Nikki how weary she is of the topic. "Nikki, nobody wants to hear about you winning the I Spy key chain."

"It depends on how I write it. I can tell about how everyone wanted it, but nobody ever gets it and—"

"That's boring."

"It is not!" Nikki insists.

"You've already told that story a bunch of times." Deja looks away down the street as she says this.

"Well, it's just that it is the best prize in the grab bag, and no one's ever gotten it, and I'm the one who finally got it. That's all."

Deja doesn't say anything. She just looks up and rolls her eyes. Nikki catches this. "I think you're jealous," she says for the second time that day.

"No, I'm not. I like what
I
got."

That's not what she said before,
Nikki thinks. "That mouse paper punch?"

"Yes. I always have papers I need to punch."

"Hmm." Now it's Nikki's turn to roll her eyes in disbelief. Deja had already told her how stupid she thought the hole puncher was. Before she can remind Deja of that, a car pulls up to Darnell's house and Evan's mother gets out and
walks up to knock on the front door. Darnell's big sister answers. They speak for a few minutes, then Evan's mother makes an about-face and goes rushing back down the walkway to her car. She jumps in and speeds away.

"I guess she knows about Evan," Deja says.

"Deja, I think we should include news about Carver Elementary, too," Nikki says as they walk to school the next morning.

Deja considers this for a moment. "Would people on our street want to hear about what's happening at our school?"

"Yeah, because it's a neighborhood school, and all their kids go there or used to go there, and my dad says that's one of the places our tax money goes to, so I think they'd be interested."

Nikki notices Deja stand up a little straighter at the mention of Nikki's dad. Probably because Deja's own dad hasn't been around for a long, long time. Deja has made it clear that she thinks Nikki's father is the smartest person in the world—just because he leaves the house every
morning in a suit and tie and carries a briefcase. He works at some kind of company, and Deja has said that he probably does smart things all day long. "Okay," she agrees. "That would give us more stuff to write about."

Nikki smiles. She can't wait to get to school and start seeing things with a reporter's eye.

Just before recess, Ms. Shelby looks through the basket of class work to see who hasn't turned in their word lines. Only those who have done their work can go outside. "Ralph, I don't see your word lines," she says calmly.

Ralph jumps up out of his seat. "I turned it in!" he insists.

"Calm down. Let me look again." Now everyone turns toward Ms. Shelby with interest. A few look back at Ralph suspiciously.

"Ralph doesn't always do his work, Ms. Shelby," Rosario offers primly.

"But I turned it in this time!"

Ms. Shelby continues searching. Nikki sees a few children look up at the clock. They're probably thinking that this is cutting into their recess time. "Sorry, Ralph, I still don't see it. Would you like to look?"

Ralph marches up to the front of the class. To Nikki, he seems like a person who is telling the truth. He flips through the papers quickly. "Here
it is!" He waves a paper in the air. "This is mine!"

Ms. Shelby studies the paper carefully. "This looks like your handwriting, I must say." She turns her gaze to Richard. "But it seems Richard has put his name on it."

She then dismisses the class row by row, keeping Richard behind to discuss the situation.

"He's going to have to write a letter to his mom about it," Ayanna says to Nikki and Deja as they hurry out the door. Ayanna has had plenty of practice writing letters home. The three of them walk to the handball court, but Nikki heads straight for the bench. She sits down and pulls out her kitty pen and notebook.

"Aren't you going to play?" Deja asks.

"I want to write something down first," Nikki says, looking off at nothing in particular and frowning slightly. Then she begins to write quickly.