Taneesha Never Disparaging by M. LaVora Perry

Author:M. LaVora Perry
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wisdom Publications
Published: 2011-04-18T04:00:00+00:00

By the time school ended, life was normal again. To my relief, none of the kids teased me about how Mr. Alvarez dogged me for being late that morning. Even Rayshaun Parker and the rest of the ones who went “Ooooooooh” didn’t mention it.

Outside, Carli and I walked up Bernard with clouds that hid the sun hanging over us.

Earlier, over lunch, she’d grilled me about my campaign:

“When we get back to 509, can I see your speech?”

“I left it home.”

“Did you make buttons?”

“A poster.”

“Why so glum?”

“Got a headache.”

“How’s your head?” Carli asked while we slogged up Bernard.

“Hunh? What do you mean? What are you talking about?”

“Your headache. I’m guessing it’s gone, hunh?”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that. I feel a lot better. Thanks for asking.”

“So, how long is your speech?”

“Long enough.”

“I thought you were going to call me so I could hear it.” She sounded kind of down.

“I didn’t want to bug you.”

I hated lying to Carli, but what was my choice? I didn’t have a speech. I didn’t even want to be tangled up in any election. But lately, that was all Carli seemed to live and breathe, even though the whole thing was making me sick, including her—the person who’d plopped me knee-deep in this doo-doo in the first place.

“You wouldn’t have been bugging me, Taneesha. Don’t you know I’m your biggest fan?”

I felt like such a turd.

But the smile on her face was almost enough to make me feel better. Almost.

“FIGHT!”

I jerked my neck to the right. On the other side of Bernard, two girls were at it. One had a face the color of brown sugar. She was maybe taller than my father. And a lot wider than him. She had a bloody cut above one eye. The other girl’s lip was bleeding and puffy. She was a little darker than the first girl and about her same size.

The two girls’ scratching, pulling, punching, and biting kept up non-stop. Kids barked, “Get her! Get her!” up and down the street. Cars came to a crawl to pass the crowd. Then they picked up speed and zoomed away.

Four blocks from Hunter, the two girls—seventh-graders maybe—were on their own to scratch, pull, punch, and bite until only one was left standing.

“Hey, you! White girl! What’s up with your leg? Is it broke?”

The shout had come from somebody on my side of the street. It grabbed me by the ears and whirled me around.

Say it isn’t so.

I saw none other than big bad Shrek herself, in all her raging-red-jacket glory, standing over Carli.

I noticed Carli lying on her butt on the sidewalk. Apparently, she’d slipped on the ice. I helped her to her feet. We stood side by side.

Carli brushed snow off her coat. “No, my leg’s not broken. It got hurt when I was a baby, but I’m okay now. I just have to wear a brace to help me walk.”

“What you mean you got to wear a brace to help you walk? You mean you a cripple, right?” The older girl pointed to Carli’s leg.

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