When they get to Richard’s house, Khufu and Gavin flop down on the porch to rest for a bit before they continue on.
Richard wants to ask Khufu if his father really dictated that funny-sounding note. But he doesn’t. He’s not sure Khufu would tell the truth. The bad thing about saying things that aren’t true is that when you say something that is true, people might not believe you. Richard wonders if Khufu’s father is actually out of town, too.
After his friends have ridden off, he goes into the kitchen, his mouth watering in anticipation. No one’s there. Richard remembers that Darnell and Jamal are still at school. Darnell has Homework Club (which is really for those who tend to slack off when it comes to completing their homework assignments) and Jamal has Debate Club.
The house is his. He sets his backpack on the table, then remembers his mother telling him not to put his germy backpack there. He places it on the floor beside the chair, then goes directly to the refrigerator. He stands there a moment, imagining opening the freezer door, reaching past the frozen lasagna, past the packages of frozen spinach and broccoli and (ugh) peas, to his Ziploc bag of chocolate chip cookies. His mouth waters even more.
Finally, he opens the freezer door. He reaches back and feels around for the Ziploc bag. Nothing. He feels around behind the half gallons of ice cream. Nothing. He takes the big items out, gets the step stool, climbs up, and peers all around the freezer. Nothing. No cookies!
He can’t believe it. He knows who the culprit is—but how did Darnell know they were there? He must have seen Richard putting them away. And the worst part is that, on the ride home, Gavin had suggested going by Delvecchio’s for candy. But Richard had vetoed the suggestion because he knew he had those chocolate chip cookies at home. But he doesn’t have those chocolate chip cookies at home. Darnell has gotten to them.
He sighs and hauls himself up the stairs to his room. He passes his older brothers’ room and sees Roland is lying on his bed, talking on his cell phone. He’s been doing that a lot lately. Richard thinks it must be a girl. Roland salutes him as he goes by, and Richard salutes back.
The only thing that can possibly help him with this disappointment is a few minutes of Shadow World. Well, maybe thirty or forty minutes. He needs to relax after walking on eggshells all day around Mr. Blaggart. He can’t wait for Ms. Shelby-Ortiz to come back. How long does the flu last, anyway? he wonders.
Suddenly, Richard remembers the homework packet. He quickly turns off the video game and gets his backpack, unzips it, and reaches inside. He rummages around for the stapled packet of pages. He doesn’t feel it. What’s going on? First the cookies, and now his homework? He unzips everything and turns his backpack upside down and gives it several firm shakes. Papers and pencils, the Statue of Liberty book, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich from two weeks ago, pencil shavings, and some random papers fall out onto his floor.
That’s it. He has completely ruined it for the class’s pizza party! Where’s my packet? he wonders. Why isn’t it in my backpack? Then, he can see it clearly. It’s on top of the cubbies. He’d placed it up there when he was putting on his sweatshirt. He should have put the packet in his backpack before he put on his sweatshirt. Richard wonders if his mom will be in a good enough mood to take him back to school to get his homework.
When he hears his mother’s key in the front door, he turns off Shadow World, grabs the book on the Statue of Liberty, opens it, and pretends to be reading. He hears the rustle of grocery bags. That sounds promising, but he resists the urge to run down there in hopes of cookies or chips or even graham crackers.
After fifteen minutes or so, he gives up. The thought of chocolate chip cookies pulls him down the stairs and into the kitchen, where his mother is unpacking the groceries.
“There’s my boy.” She smiles over at him. “What are you up to?”
“Working on my Statue of Liberty paper,” he says.
“Oh, right,” she says absently. She opens the kitchen cabinet like she’s searching for something. “Oops. I was supposed to help you with that, wasn’t I?”
“That’s okay. I can do it myself.” He decides not to tell her that he is actually doing it over because he’d done a lousy job.
“Are there cookies?” he asks after a few moments of silence.
“Not before dinner,” she says, dashing his hopes.
He turns to another topic. “Mom, I left my homework packet at school. Can you run me back there to get it?”
“Are you asking me to stop what I’m doing after working all day and take you all the way back to school because you left your homework?”
He nods weakly, already knowing she’s going to tell him no.
“I don’t think so,” she says. “My book club is meeting here tonight, and I have a lot to do.”
Richard knows it’s no use arguing. When his mother’s book club is coming, she can’t think of anything else. Not even dinner. She usually orders a couple of pizzas for his father to bring home. So at least there’s that. No peas to choke down.
Now he watches her put away a package of cookies in the cabinet above the refrigerator. She still does that, even though Richard and his brothers can easily get the cookies with a stepladder. Jamal can almost get the cookies without a stepladder.
“Can I ride my bike back to school and get it? We have a really mean sub, and I don’t know what he’ll do if I don’t turn it in.”
His mother stops what she’s doing. She looks out the window. She seems to be really considering this. “Okay,” she starts slowly. “Keep to the side streets. No talking to strangers and come back with Darnell. He should be finished with ‘Homework Club’”—she makes air quotes with her hands—“by then.”
“Thanks, Mom!” he says as he dashes out the back door before she can change her mind. Problem solved! he thinks.
“And don’t forget to wear your helmet!”
Richard gets back to school in no time. He’s not surprised to find the gate unlocked. Homework Club is probably just finishing up. The empty, quiet hallways look and feel strange. It’s hard to imagine them full of kids and noise. It actually looks kind of sad and lonely.
When he gets to Room Ten, it’s locked. He peers through the window in the door, and he can see his homework packet sitting on top of the cubbies, right where he left it. For some reason, he tries the knob again. Still locked, of course. Maybe there’s someone in the office who can help him. He heads back down the hall.
Mrs. Marker is still there, yapping on the telephone. It sounds like school business, so he plops down on the bench just inside the door and waits. Then he grows annoyed at the person on the other end of the call who’s keeping Mrs. Marker on the phone. He can tell she’s exasperated by the call too. She has to repeat herself several times.
At last, she gets off and looks over her glasses at him. “What is it, Richard?” He’s always surprised that she seems to know the names of every kid at Carver Elementary.
He dives in. “I left my homework in the classroom. That’s why I came back. To get it.”
She frowns. “Why are you telling me about your homework?”
“The door’s locked and I can’t get it.”
Now she takes in a long breath and lets it out slowly. She shakes her head and shrugs. “I don’t have the key. See if you can find the custodian, Mr. Aubrey. He’s the only one who can help you.”
Richard thanks her and walks out with his shoulders slumped. Mr. Aubrey could be anywhere.
Now Richard walks the hallways, looking through the window of each room. No Mr. Aubrey. He climbs up to the second floor and looks through windows up there. A few teachers are still at their desks. Somehow, he doesn’t feel he can interrupt them. They all look kind of tired and like they want to be left alone to do their work.
Homework Club is in the last room he comes to. Before he can look through the window in search of Mr. Aubrey, the door opens and out steps his brother Darnell.
“What are you doing here?”
“Mom let me come back to get my homework. I accidentally left it.”
“Did you get it?”
“No. The door is locked.”
“So look for the custodian.”
“I’ve been looking and looking and I can’t find him. I even asked in the office.”
“Well, I’m going home. I’m hungry.”
Disappointed, Richard follows his brother to the bike rack. He’ll just have to get to school extra early tomorrow. Extra, extra early, then somehow get his homework packet and try to complete it before school and during recess. Because Mr. Blaggart hasn’t been checking their homework until after morning recess. It’s like he keeps forgetting. Richard thinks he just might be able to pull this off. He really, really doesn’t want to be the one to ruin it for the class pizza party. He has to finish that homework packet.
After dinner, Richard figures he can rewrite those paragraphs on the Statue of Liberty, at least. He flips through the book Mr. Blaggart loaned him and hits upon an idea. Bubble map! He’d forgotten how a bubble map can make a writing assignment easy. Plus, if his mother gets it into her head that she wants to check his progress before the doorbell rings, signaling her first book club member, she’ll be impressed.
Richard draws a bubble map and writes The Statue of liberty Is like a Giant Invitation to the World in the center circle. Then he fills in the other bubbles with everything he can remember about the statue from the book Mr. Blaggart gave him: the expression on her face, the writing on the monument, the way she stands with her arm up, the torch, the crown. All he needs is a topic sentence (ugh) and supporting details (double ugh). It can be done. He gets to work.
Every little thing about how the Statue of liberty looks makes it look like it’s inviting people to America. He scratches out America and writes the United States. He likes it. It’s perfect. But then he scratches out the United States and rewrites America. He’s proud of that topic sentence. He can even be proud to read it the next day. If he has to. It’s going to be way different from Antonia’s. Way better.
Surprisingly, writing the rest is not as difficult as he thought it would be. When he finishes, he comes up with a plan. He’ll show his mother his composition and then quickly ask her if he can go to school the next day extra, extra early to get his homework and complete it.
The first book club person will be ringing the doorbell any minute now. He gets to his mom just in time, and pours out his whole speech.
“I don’t want you on the street that early,” she says. “I’ll drive you.” Then the bell rings, and she turns toward the front door.