The Newsy News Newsletter (8 page)

"We thought she moved away."

"When you're putting out information in a newsletter, you need to be sure you have the facts. You're not supposed to just guess at things," Auntie says.

"But we really did think Antonia moved, and we saw the bug truck in the Denvers' driveway, and I heard you say the food at Simply Delicious is way overpriced and you said Puerto Nuevo's food is swimming in grease—"

Deja stops because her auntie is holding up her hand in a way that seems to mean
Halt!

"This is a problem. You two"—she looks toward Nikki, who is stunned into silence—"have insulted people and concerned yourselves with things that aren't your business."

This could go on and on,
Nikki thinks, and now she's been pulled into the scolding when she'd hoped to remain on the outskirts. Nikki knows it's just a matter of time before Deja's auntie will be letting her own parents in on the problem.

"We're going to suspend this little newsletter
activity, after one final issue. And then you're going to go up to Puerto Nuevo and Simply Delicious"—Auntie Dee stops then, and Nikki wonders if it's because she kind of likes the owner of Simply Delicious, as Deja suspects—"and apologize for maligning their businesses. By the way, Keyon Denver works for Bugs Away. He probably stopped by his house for some reason. That bug mobile you saw in the Denver driveway is the one he drives."

Nikki looks down at her feet. Deja's auntie still isn't finished. She has more. "So your final newsletter will be one of retractions."

Retractions?
Nikki thinks.
Is that anything like
extractions,
like when you go to the dentist?

"And when did I give you permission to print out all those copies on my printer?"

Auntie Dee waits. She crosses her arms. Nikki waits as well, wondering how Deja is going to answer that one. But before she can, Auntie Dee hands the newsletter to Deja and says, "Get in my office and start working on retractions and apologies." There goes their game of jacks and the nice warm pizza still sitting on paper towels on the table.

"Auntie Dee?" Deja asks.

"What?"

"What are contractions?"

"
Re
tractions. It's like taking something back.
Saying that what you wrote wasn't true and then following that up with the truth. You'll figure it out. Now get going."

The girls get up and head for the door. Nikki looks back to see Deja's auntie wrapping the slices in plastic wrap and putting them away in the refrigerator.

In Auntie Dee's office, Deja drops the newsletter on the desk. They both sit and stare at it. "Which one should we do first?" Nikki asks.

"I don't know."

"Let's do the bug one," Nikki suggests. "I think that'll be the easiest."

"'Kay," Deja mumbles.

Deja starts typing. When she finishes, the retraction reads:

Oops! Guess what? The Fulton Street Newsy News Newsletter is happy to inform you that the Denver family don't really have a bug problem even though they had that bug van in their driveway. Their house is as clean as
every other house on this block which is good because who wants roaches?

Deja has brightened a bit. "Whatcha think, Nikki?"

"That makes it seem like the newsletter made the mistake and not us."

"That's what I wanted," Deja says, smiling down at her creation.

"I don't know, Deja." Nikki feels a bit uneasy, but she lets Deja continue to write the retractions. It's easier that way. Deja starts each one with "Oops! Guess what?" It makes the retractions sound almost like good news.

Once they finish, they have to hand deliver the newsletters to each house on both sides of the block. They stand on Deja's porch and look up their street and then down their street. "I don't want to ring doorbells," Deja says.

"Me, neither."

"I know! We'll just quietly put them in the mailboxes."

"Real quietly," Nikki adds.

They decide to stick together and take turns tiptoeing up to the mailboxes. Each time they manage to about-face and run with quick, quiet steps back to the sidewalk, they both let out a sigh of relief. Tomorrow they'll have to make their trips to Simply Delicious and Puerto Nuevo for face-to-face apologies. Nikki dreads having to do this. She knows there will be no getting out of it. Auntie Dee and her own parents will make sure of that.

When they're done, they head back toward their houses in silence. They reach Deja's porch and plop down on the swing with Bear. In the dying late afternoon, they can put off thinking about face-to-face apologies. Nikki decides to wait until morning to worry about that. But then after a moment she says, "I wish we didn't have to do those apologies tomorrow, face to face."

"Yeah," says Deja. "We're not going to be able to get out of it, either."

Across the street, Darnell's front door opens. Out he comes with his skateboard tucked under his arm. They watch him stroll to his garage, go inside, and then come out with two plastic crates. He lines them up in front of his house. Nikki and Deja exchange looks. "I betcha his mom isn't home," Deja says. There are no cars in the garage or driveway. Nikki has a feeling about what he is going to do.

In a leisurely way, Darnell gets on his board and glides down the block. When he is almost to the end, he stops and turns his board around. Then he begins to skate toward the crates, gaining speed as gets closer. Right before he reaches
them, he does something with his feet, bends his body low, and sails over. Perfectly. He comes down with a small crash that sounds solid and right. He pumps his arm once, with his hand balled into a fist. "Yes!" they hear him exclaim. "
That's
how it should be done!"

Nikki and Deja sigh. "Shoot," Deja says. "I wish we could write about that."

"Me, too," Nikki says. "What would you write, Deja?"

Deja thinks a moment. "I'd write that while Darnell Woolsy's mom wasn't home—gone to the store or to the mall or something—Darnell snuck into the garage and got out his skateboard, even though he was on skateboard punishment. Then he did that same dangerous trick that he had his friend Evan Richardson do that caused Evan to break his arm. That's what I'd write."

Nikki considers this. "But we don't know if he's on punishment still. And we don't know that his mom isn't home. And that trick ... maybe everybody does that trick and they don't even get hurt..." Nikki's voice trails off.

Deja doesn't say anything. Nikki wonders if Deja is annoyed that she corrected her. Finally Deja says, "I guess." That seems to be as far as she'll go. But Nikki knows that if they ever get a chance to do the newsletter again, she
and
Deja will both make sure to be real, real careful.
Because who'd want to have to do face-to-face apologies again?

They watch in silence as Darnell takes a second go at the flat-ground Ollie.

"Nikki," Deja says suddenly. "Look what I've got."

Deja is holding up the I Spy key chain. It's dangling from her thumb. She must have found it between the porch swing cushions.

"Oh, I was wondering where that was," Nikki says in a flat voice.

"Aren't you glad I found it?"

"I guess."

"You guess?" Deja says. "I thought it was such a great prize. The one everyone wanted and only
you
could capture with your special capturing trick."

Nikki raises her eyebrows and scrunches her mouth to the side. "Oh, yeah. Well, it got kind of boring, anyway."

"Can I have it?" Deja asks quickly.

"No. It's mine." Nikki takes it off Deja's thumb before Deja can get insistent. Nikki's tired of it, but she's still not ready to give it away.

"You girls hungry?" It's Auntie Dee, coming out to the front porch with two plates of pizza. There are two chocolate chip cookies on each plate as well. Nikki is surprised. Auntie Dee doesn't seem angry anymore. And pizza and cookies together is not Auntie Dee's usual healthy fare.

Nikki and Deja eagerly take the plates out of Auntie Dee's hands and dig in. It's a perfect ending to a rough day. The next morning, when they'll have to do all that face-to-face unpleasantness, seems a long way away. Right now, they are just happy to be sitting here together on Deja's front porch, with their pizza and cookies and Bear on the swing, watching all the interesting happenings on Fulton Street.