off her light.
“ Hey, Farty Arty,” Brad’s voice boomed through the hall, stopping Arty inches before the classroom door. He wanted to continue on toward his seat, but half the school heard that yell.
He turned around.
“ Yeah, Brad?”
“ I’m gonna kick your butt after school.” Brad was wearing a San Francisco Giant’s baseball hat turned backwards. Arty thought it made him look stupid, and he thought that tomorrow Ray and Steve would be wearing a backwards cap, too.
“ You alone?” was all Arty could think of saying.
“ What, you think I’m gonna need help?” Once again Arty regretted his flapping lips. He’d spoken up without thinking and only made Brad madder, if that was possible.
“ Just asking, that’s all,” Arty said, sounding like a tough guy from an old rebel movie. But before he could get into any more hot water with Brad, the bell rang, giving him the excuse to turn away and go into the classroom.
“ After school, punk,” Brad said.
Arty risked one more turn and saw Steve Kerr coming into the building. His cheek was bandaged and he didn’t look happy. Arty wondered if he had stitches and smiled. Then he slid in the door and took his seat.
It was going to be a long day, Arty thought, glancing over at Brad sitting in front of Carolina. Every ten minutes or so Brad would turn and fix him with a quick glare, then turn away. During recess all anyone could talk about was the big fight after school. Some of the kids gave Arty advice on how to fight, others told him to tell the principal, and some told him to try and make up with Brad. They all knew, or sensed, how scared he was and they were all glad that it wasn’t them.
It was the worst day of Arty’s life. He couldn’t concentrate on anything the substitute teacher was saying. She had pimples and talked in a steady voice that wanted to put you to sleep. Arty didn’t think she was very old to be a teacher, and he didn’t think she was even aware the whole class knew Brad was going to pound him into the ground after the final bell at three-ten. Every time he looked at the clock, it seemed like the hands had moved farther than they were supposed to. The day was racing by and he knew he wasn’t going to be getting any help. He was on his own.
The teacher asked Carolina to stay inside during the last recess, because she missed too many words on the spelling test. She wanted to go over the words with her and see if she needed any special help. Arty wished he could stay in with her, but instead he found himself on the playground, alone.
Brad was over by the tetherball watching Ray and Steve bat it around the pole. There was a line of kids waiting to play, and Brad walked to the head of the line, like it was his right. None of the kids challenged him and none of the kids came over to stand with Arty.
Arty leaned back against the building and closed his eyes. The recess bell jerked them back open and he hustled back into the classroom, before any of the other kids.
He returned to his seat and saw a folded note on his desk. Probably from Carolina, he thought, and he sat down before opening it. The second bell and the substitute started droning on in her Sleepy Hollow voice. Arty opened the note to see what she had to say.
It was from Brad.
And it read:
AT THE BASEBALL FIELD EVERYONE’S GONNA BE THERE
So, Arty thought, Brad didn’t want the fight near the school. He didn’t want to take the chance a teacher might break it up until Arty was completely wasted. He looked over at Brad and frowned. He was asleep.
But he woke up when the final bell went off.
“ A little bird told me you two lovebirds are taking karate lessons at the Rec Center,” Brad said, right outside the classroom
“ That bird shoulda told you to mind your own business,” Carolina said.
“ Think you’re gonna ever get tough enough to take me?” Brad said through tight lips.
“ Oh yeah,” Carolina smirked, “by the time this year’s over I’ll be able to wipe your sorry face all over this school, so you just might think about starting to be a little nice to me.”
“ Or what?”
“ Or you’ll find out,” Carolina said, stepping up to Brad.
“ Oh yeah?” Brad said.
“ Yeah,” Carolina said.
“ Sure.” Brad pushed her away from him. She went flying backwards, stumbled and landed on her backside.
“ Jerk face,” Carolina said, with her arms protectively wrapped around the backpack.
“ You can say that, but who’s on the floor?” Brad said with a self-satisfied sneer.
“ You are!” Arty screamed, swinging his backpack toward Brad’s face. The combined weight of his and Carolina’s books made a solid thunking sound when they connected with the side of Brad’s head, and Arty’s scream, the only thing he’d learned in his one karate lesson, filled the hall and quieted the kids from the first grade side of the hall to the sixth.
Brad turned toward Arty, a bully enraged, and most of the observers thought he was going to jump Arty and beat him senseless right inside the school, but Brad was stunned by the blow and waited before attacking.
Arty, however, didn’t wait. He kicked Brad in the crotch with all the force he could muster from his heavy body and Brad doubled over with a kind of little girl scream.
“ No fair,” Ray Harpine said, as Arty slammed the backpack into Brad’s head again.
“ Get him,” a voice out of the crowd begged, and Arty hit him again with the backpack, and Brad finally went down with a thud, holding onto his crotch and rolling on the floor. Arty stepped back.
“ You little shit. You didn’t fight fair,” Ray Harpine said, an instant before his fist connected with Arty’s chin.
Arty, surprised, turned toward his new attacker, but before he could think about defending himself a ball of white flew out of Carolina’s backpack and landed on Ray’s shoulders.
“ Get it off me,” Ray wailed. He tried to grab it, but the ferret was too fast, leaping to the ground, as Carolina replaced it, jumping on Ray’s back and scratching both sides of his face with her sharp fingernails.
Arty turned without thinking, wielding his backpack like a mace. He smashed it into the face of the watching Steve Kerr, breaking his nose and filling his face with blood. Steve was out of the fight before he had a chance to get in it.
“ Get her off me,” Ray wailed, even louder than before, and with one opponent on the floor, another holding his face and out of action, Arty turned toward Ray Harpine. The boy had both his hands over his shoulders, clutching Carolina, trying to pull her off. Arty kicked him in the balls. It was easy. Carolina jumped off and the boy doubled over crying, like he’d just been spanked.
“ You little punk,” Brad Peters said, in a low throaty voice that caused Arty to turn. Brad was pushing himself up from the freshly waxed floor, and Arty knew if he allowed the bully to stand, he would be in trouble, so once again he swung the book laden backpack. It caught Brad on the side of the head again, and he went down again, and he didn’t get back up.
“ Come on, let’s go,” Arty said to Carolina.
Carolina took off her backpack, held it open by the floor and the ferret hustled into it. Then she slung it over her shoulder and took Arty by the hand. They left the building, with a gang of kids looking on in amazement. Brad and the shadows were on the floor, and Arty wanted to be out of there before they got up.
“ You clobbered them. Boy, oh boy. Just think how tough you’re going to be after a few karate lessons.” Carolina was bubbling with excitement.
“ Yeah, but right now we gotta hurry, ’cuz Brad’s gonna be up in a minute and he’s gonna be after us. We won’t be so lucky next time.”
“ Yeah.” Carolina picked up her pace to match his, but they didn’t have far to walk, because the milk truck cut them off as they were crossing the street.
“ Get in,” Harry Lightfoot said, and they did, both children standing and holding the rail by the door, because
