The Newsy News Newsletter (5 page)

"Hey, girl, whatcha want?" Vianda says. She has on a purple sweat suit, and she looks as if she is in the middle of cornrowing her hair. Half is hanging loose, and half is tightly braided.

Nikki, suddenly nervous, almost forgets what it is that she wants. But Vianda's warm smile puts her at ease.

"I've got this newsletter that me and Deja made, and we're selling it for a quarter. If you want to buy it," Nikki adds.

"Newsletter ... hmm," Vianda says. "Let me see it."

Nikki hands it over and holds her breath.

Vianda scans it, then looks up at Nikki and winks. She turns it over, reads a little bit, then bursts out laughing. "This is funny," she says. "I remember that, too—Mr. Robinson getting locked out of his house last Sunday morning. He woke me up." She keeps reading, and Nikki begins to grow worried. If Vianda reads the whole thing just standing there, why would she need to buy it? An image of people lingering at the newsstand, reading whatever they want so they won't have to pay for stuff, flashes in her mind. Maybe Vianda is going to read the newsletter front to back and then not pay for it.

"This is some funny stuff," Vianda says. "And Bianca's in it. I'll buy it." She pulls a small zippered purse from the pocket of her sweat suit top. "Here's a quarter." She drops a quarter into Nikki's hand. "Wait, here's another one for any future issue." She drops another quarter into Nikki's hand. Nikki slips them into her pocket, feeling relieved.

The next house is Darnell's. Nikki feels funny approaching the house of someone from Carver Elementary. She climbs the steps and rings the doorbell. She looks around. There is Darnell's skateboard at the far end of the porch, looking abandoned. She hasn't seen him on his skateboard, in fact, since the accident. His skateboard looks huge, somehow. While she is thinking about this, the door opens. She is dismayed to see that it is Darnell.

"What do you want?" he asks rudely.

"Me and Deja are selling this newsletter. It's all about our block. And a few things about Carver," she adds.

He extends his hand, but doesn't step out. "Let me see it."

Nikki doesn't want to just let him see it. In fact, she'd rather let his mom or dad see it. It feels like Darnell will be a waste of time. She hands over a copy and waits while he looks it over, scowling the whole time.

"Uh-uh!" he says suddenly. "This ain't right. You got this wrong." He'd gotten to the part about Evan's accident. "I wasn't havin' him do somethin' dangerous. The flat-ground Ollie is not dangerous! He just didn't do it like I told him. If he'd done it right, there wouldn't have been a problem."

Nikki stands there, looking down. She feels it is best not to say anything.

"You shouldn't put something in a newsletter that's not right."

"Well, I kind of think it was dangerous for Evan," she says quietly.

"Not if he'd done like I told him."

"Do you think your parents would like a subscription to our newsletter? It's going to come out once every two weeks."

"This looks stupid," he says as he returns the newsletter to her with a sneer.

"Can you give them this subscription form?"

"No, I cannot," he says, and shuts the door.

She stands in front of the closed door for a few seconds, then sticks a subscription form in the mailbox mounted on the porch post and skips down the steps. She is happy to be walking away from Darnell's house rather than toward it.

The next house is Auntie Dee's friend Phoebe's. Nikki rings the doorbell. Phoebe opens
the door. "Hi, honey," she says warmly. "What can I do for you?" There is a heavenly aroma drifting out of her kitchen. Brownies. Nikki is momentarily caught off-guard, thinking of brownies.

"We're selling this newsletter," she says when she finally finds her voice.

"Newsletter?" Phoebe takes it out of her hand and studies it for a bit. "Jo Markham's flowers are featured in some kind of magazine?"

Again, Nikki is caught off-guard. She's never thought of Mrs. Markham as having a first name. And not such a modern-sounding and short one as Jo.

"How much you want for this newsletter?" Phoebe asks with smiling eyes.

"It costs a quarter," Nikki says.

"That's a bargain. Be right back." She turns and starts for the kitchen. Not only does she come back with a quarter, she is holding a warm brownie on a green napkin.

"Here, sweetie pie," she says, handing Nikki the quarter. After Nikki deposits the quarter in her jeans pocket, Phoebe puts the delicious-smelling brownie in her hand.

"Thank you," Nikki says.

"My pleasure."

That's the way it goes for the rest of the block. A few people aren't home, so she just sticks subscription forms in their mailboxes. But the ones who are home readily buy the newsletter and promise to buy the next issue as well. Nikki feels a real sense of accomplishment when she heads back to her porch, where she is to meet Deja. She has her brownie, and it is still kind of warm. She is waiting for Deja to return before taking the first bite. It is just something she is compelled to do. Nikki is pretty sure Deja hasn't gotten a brownie on her side of the street. This way she can nibble at it in front of Deja and make her wish she had one.

"Where did you get that?" Deja asks as soon as she returns and sees the brownie on its green napkin, perched on Nikki's bent knees.

"Auntie Dee's friend Phoebe."

"Let me have some."

Nikki twists her mouth to the side, thinking. "Okay, I'll give you a little bite, and I mean a little one." Nikki holds it out, but as Deja bends forward, it seems as if she is positioning herself to take a big bite. Nikki snatches it away just in time. "I said a little bite."

"I was going to take a little bite," Deja says.

"It looked like you were going to take a big bite."

"I was going to take a little bite. Now let me have some."

"I'm going to break it off," Nikki says, breaking
off a piece before Deja can protest. She holds it out to Deja, and Deja snatches it out of Nikki's hand, sucking her tongue at the same time.

"You didn't even say thank you," Nikki complains.

"
Thank
you," Deja says, then pops it into her mouth.

Deja has collected six quarters. She only left one subscription form, because she skipped over their own houses. Nikki has collected five quarters—six, if she counts the extra one Vianda's given her. She left four subscription forms. They plan to divide the money later, after more people pay for subscriptions and it's all collected. They go into their houses to do their homework.

The problem with putting out a newsy news newsletter every other week is that the days seem to race by. Suddenly it is Wednesday, and the second newsy news newsletter is due on Friday.

On the way to school Nikki says, "Deja, we need news for Friday's newsletter."

"We'll get news. I'm not worried."

And she doesn't seem to be. When Nikki looks over at Deja, she has a smooth, calm look on her face.

In the classroom, once morning journals are open on every desk and everyone has been writing awhile, Ms. Shelby scans the seats for absences and says, "Antonia's out again." She says this under her breath, as if she is just making an observation to herself.

Deja looks up, then glances over at Antonia's empty seat. Nikki's eyes meet hers. They both look at Antonia's vacant desk.

Antonia was absent on Monday, Tuesday, and now Wednesday as well. Maybe she has the flu or something. Maybe she has the chickenpox. Nikki thinks of Antonia with chickenpox. Nikki had it when she was four. It was awful. Chickenpox on the bottom of her feet, chickenpox in her ears. She imagines Antonia covered with chickenpox all over. Where
is
Antonia? Why hasn't she been at school all week?

Deja poses this question as she and Nikki walk home that afternoon.

"It's kind of mysterious," Nikki says. "Plus, hasn't her house been looking strange?"

"Strange how?" asks Deja.

"Like nobody's there."

As they reach their block, they slow to get a good look at Antonia's house. It does seem as if no one is home. The drapes are drawn, and there is a quietness that the other houses on the street don't have.

"Where is everybody?" Nikki asks.

No cars in the driveway. "They've gone on vacation," says Deja.

"They wouldn't go on vacation in the middle of the school year," Nikki says.

Deja seems to be thinking of something.
She stops. She stands staring at Antonia's house.

"What are you doing?" Nikki asks.

"I want to see her trampoline."

"How are you going to do that?"

Deja doesn't answer. She crosses the street and starts toward the driveway. Nikki looks both ways, then follows, but stays on the sidewalk looking after her. "What are you doing, Deja?"

"I just want to take a peek at that trampoline."

"What if someone sees you?"

Again, Deja doesn't answer. She just keeps on walking up the driveway. Nikki looks around. She follows. "Deja ... come back."

On the side of the house, there is a tall gate with a latch in the middle that can be flipped up to allow the gate to open. Deja releases the latch and steps through the gate. Nikki is close behind. They both look back over their shoulders, up at a window that might be the kitchen window. The curtain is drawn. They look above that window to another window at the back of the split part of Antonia's split-level house. There is a curtain drawn there as well.

"Deja ..." Nikki says in a loud whisper.

Deja whips her head around and frowns, poking her lips out. "Shhh!"

Her face looks kind of like a monster,
Nikki thinks. She is a little scared, but she follows anyway.

Antonia's house has a long, covered porch in
the back. There are hanging pots of geraniums.
This is probably where they all sit and have their family cookouts in the summer,
Nikki thinks as she notes the patio table and chairs.

"Come on, Deja. Come on, let's go," Nikki says.

"Wait!" Deja hisses. She is staring at the trampoline. Nikki knows that Deja is thinking about all the times they've had to hear about that trampoline and that stupid tetherball built into the ground. Deja starts toward it.

"What are you doing?" Nikki says with alarm as she watches Deja give the tetherball a hard whack. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

"Okay, okay. Nobody's home anyway." Deja looks at the trampoline again.

Nikki catches that look. "No, Deja."

Deja rolls her eyes and sighs. "Okay. Come on." She turns and starts toward the gate. But just then they hear a car pulling into the driveway. They stop in their tracks. Eyes wide, they stare at each other. Nikki brings her hand to her mouth, and they both look at the gate. It is unlatched and slightly ajar.

The girls look around. The backyard has a tall cinderblock wall surrounding it. There is no way they can climb over it. "We're going to get in big trouble," Nikki says, sounding as if she is about to cry.

"No, we're not," Deja says, spying the gardening shed at the back of the yard.

"This is trespassing," Nikki whines. "This is against the law."

They hear a car door slam. Again they look at each other. Deja grabs Nikki by the hand. "We're not going to get in trouble," she repeats, leading Nikki toward the gardening shed.

It is dark in there and smells like wet dirt. It is crowded with bags of grass seed and bags of manure. There are clay pots of all kinds and tools hanging on hooks on the walls. In the middle there is a small wooden worktable.

"We're staying here for a while," Deja says.

"My mom's going to be real mad." Nikki begins to whimper. "She's going to wonder how come I'm not home already."

Deja is busy rubbing the inside pane of the shed's small window with the sleeve of her hoodie. She peers out. "As soon as whoever that is goes in the house, we're gonna leave."

"They might see us!"

"Shh, be quiet!" Deja orders. Someone is approaching the gate. It is Antonia's father. Deja quickly lowers her head, then slowly raises up so she can just see out. Nikki looks, too. They can see the top of Antonia's father's head. He seems to be standing on the other side of the gate, staring at it. Nikki feels her heart beating faster. They are going to be in so much trouble. They hear the gate being latched and then hear Antonia's father walking away. Soon the front door of the house slams shut.