20

A-One Candidate

I WAKE UP LATE the next morning and barely make it out of the door in time to catch the bus. Good thing the driver is in a singing mood. He does not yell at me.

Reeni and Anil and I talk about Book Uncle.

“I can’t believe that Mayor S.L. Yogaraja would want to shut him down!” I say.

“I wonder who wrote that horrible letter?” Reeni says.

“Karate Samuel would be a better mayor,” Anil says. “He wouldn’t shut Book Uncle down.”

“My wapa says anyone would be better than Mayor SLY,” I say.

Anil does a quick-twisting block with both hands. It’s his karate way to say Definitely.

I try to twist my hands like that but I can’t. My hands don’t work like Anil’s. But maybe trying to twist them jiggled my brain, because right at that moment I realize something.

That notice, the pink notice, is plain flat-out wrong. They can’t make Book Uncle pay a fee. Commercial. Commercial is when you sell something. Book Uncle’s not selling anything.

The bus turns into school and stops.

I explain my big realization as we inch forward in line to get off the jam-packed bus.

“You’re right,” Reeni says. “He’s not selling anything.”

“Yes, but does the mayor understand that?” Anil says.

“Maybe not,” I say.

“Who said mayor?” says the bus driver.

“I did,” says Anil.

“Be happy, friends!” the driver tells us. “Soon we’ll have a new mayor! His Excellency the Most Honorable A-One Mayor-ayya, Karaaaaaate Samuel!”

He stops and looks a little embarrassed. We’ve caught him being a live campaign commercial. Now he clears his throat and goes back to being a serious bus driver.

“Are you going to vote for him?” I ask.

Am I going to vote for him?” says the bus driver. “Am I going to vote for him? Am I going to — ”

“Okay, I get it,” I say.

He says, “Naturally I’m going to vote for him.”

And that is what gives me my next big idea.