To end the week, Mr. Acevedo held T3 outside in the amphitheater.
He read us a short story about this kid who had the same first and last name, Murphy Murphy. The kid had the worst luck in the world. He also had really bad stage fright, but he agreed to be in a skit for the drama club because he really liked a girl.
I sat in the first row on the end between Red and Mr. Goldberg. When we arrived, Mr. Goldberg was emptying the garbage cans next to the playground. He decided to join us.
As Mr. Acevedo read, he walked up and down the steps and back and forth along the rows. He hopped onto the benches and tiptoed around us, twisting and turning and dipping like a dancer.
When there were only a couple pages left—when he got to the scene where Murphy Murphy was bumbling through the skit—he walked over to the jungle gym and read from the deck at the top of the climbing wall. Then when he finished, he closed the book and bowed like a conductor in front of an orchestra.
Everyone applauded.
Some of the kids stood and cheered.
I did.