It's Up to Charlie Hardin – eARC by Dean Ing Read Free Book Online Page A

“I didn’t tell her you two caused young Rhett to do what he did.” And after the tiniest of pauses: “Yet.” Rich in experience, Frost could build a threat the way an insect builds a sandhill, grain by grain. When none of the boys replied, he said, “Have you two been bullying poor Rhett?” Seeing rapid headshakes, he went on, “I’ll put it another way. Would you happen to be carrying any food in your pockets? Eggs, for example.”
    Charlie thought furiously, wondering whether his answer could refer to “eggs,” plural, or to the one he suddenly remembered that lay, at this exact moment, in his pocket.
    But Aaron had Frost’s attention, quickly reaching into both pants pockets. He turned them out without a word, producing two marbles and a pink eraser. No eggs.
    But Mr. Frost’s eye was good. He saw the five small flecks of eggshell, one orange, one blue, and three crimson, that clung to Aaron’s pocket. When Aaron noticed the evidence and drew a long breath, the principal stared him down. “You’re going to say you sometimes bring hardboiled eggs to school for lunch. Aren’t you?”
    “Yes, sir,” said Aaron.
    “Don’t say it,” the man said.
    “No, sir,” said Aaron.
    “You didn’t answer me, Hardin,” said Frost, not unkindly. “Is it possible you could have colorful reminders of ancient food with you as well?”
    “I might have forgot something,” Charlie admitted, and placed a hand over the pocket that bulged with his one partly flattened egg. “Uh-huh, I did. In fact, here it is.” And Charlie carefully detached his lime green, much-abused egg from the fabric.
    Frost knelt, sniffed elaborately, nodded. “And you boys both eat hardboiled eggs at lunch?”
    “Sometimes.” Charlie looked to Aaron for agreement and got it.
    “Very well. Hardin, divide that disgusting thing in your hand into halves. No no, over the wastebasket, for heaven’s sake. Fischer, you choose which half of it looks less repulsive. Then you will both prove to me that you eat antique eggs at school.” And seeing their pleading looks, he added, “Yes, right now, unless you want your parents here in my office to discuss all this. Wait,” he said suddenly. “Rhett, you seem to find this entertaining. I can have the nurse bring what she recovered from the Gutierrez girl for you to eat—I imagine it will include some of her hair—or I can put you in study hall for an hour after school every day next week. Just to keep you safe from thugs like these two after class, mind you. Your choice,” he finished. While the principal’s words continued to paint Jackie as a victim, his tone lacked sincerity.
    Jackie swallowed by reflex as he watched Charlie begin to nibble. “I’ll take study hall,” he said, his face in an awful grimace.
    “A wise decision. So it’s back to class for you. Right now,” said Frost, and waited as Jackie hurried out of the office.
    Charlie struggled to swallow a bite. “You got any salt, Mr. Frost?”
    The principal sighed. “Just eat it, Hardin. Children are starving in Europe.”

    Aaron and Charlie walked home together that afternoon, swollen with pride at being called thugs by Principal Frost, though they suspected the label had been applied in gentle sarcasm. “But that went over like a German zeppelin with Jackie,” Aaron said. “I think we better cancel the war while we’re still ahead.”
    Charlie nodded. “Goes without saying.”
    “This is Jackie Rhett we’re talking about, Charlie. For that guy, nuthin’ goes without saying. And we say it to him together so Jackie knows we agree.”
    Charlie was more than willing, but in his mind the pair of yellow eggs lingered like the last two plump kernels of popcorn in a sack, tempting and unconsumed. “One thing I’m durn sure not gonna do is tell anybody we fixed those eggs special,” he said. “I’ll flush mine down if you’ll flush yours.”
    Aaron did not reply for so long that Charlie knew he was thinking ahead, as