Kung Fooey by Graham Salisbury Read Free Book Online

like me talk to him?”
    “No, no, Tito’s not that bad. I can handle him. I mean, I know how. But this kid …”
    I shook my head.
    “I knew a kid like that one time,” Clarence said. “Not the Tito one, but the other one.Everything you said, he made it more big. Whatever you did, he did um better. Everything. No way you could top him.” Clarence humphed. “He got in a lot of fights.”
    “Really? This new kid—his name is Benny—he’s kind of like that. But maybe half of what he says might be true.”
    “What I think,” Clarence said, “is that guys like that … they unsure of themselves. They just trying to figure it out.”
    “Figure what out?”
    Clarence shrugged. “Life, I guess.”
    I nodded but didn’t really understand. “I can’t wait to drive.”
    Clarence chuckled. “You like sit behind the wheel?”
    “Ho, yeah! Can I?”
    “Get in.”
    Clarence opened the door of his big pink car and I slipped into the driver’s seat. I gripped the steering wheel in both hands. I stretched to see over the hood. “This is a big car.”

    “How they made these old ones.”
    No wonder Stella hit stuff in it. You couldn’t even see.
    Clarence looked toward the house. “Stella told me: go wait by the car, I coming right out. That was ten minutes ago.”
    I laughed. “Here’s a secret: pretend you don’t care.”
    Clarence raised an eyebrow. “How come?”
    “Your life will be better.”
    “Good call.”

B enny Obi was prob’ly home figuring out life, because the next day he wasn’t at school.
    “Settle down, class,” Mr. Purdy said as school started. “This morning we’re going to take a few minutes to talk about the nasty
R
. It’s nasty because we don’t want any part of it in our school. Anyone care to guess what it is?”
    I was slumping in my chair, the hot morning sun pouring through the open window.
    Rubin’s hand shot up. “Reading?”
    Mr. Purdy stared at Rubin.
    “Oh … yeah,” Rubin said. “We like reading.”
    Hmmm. What starts with
R
and is nasty? “Rats?” I said.
    Mr. Purdy smiled. “We have rats here, Calvin?”
    “Uh … I don’t think so.”
    “No, we don’t have rats. The nasty
R
I’m talking about, class, is ridicule … because we have a problem.”
    That got me sitting up straight.
    The room got quiet. Very quiet.
    Mr. Purdy folded his arms and studied us. “It seems some people in this school have been giving our newest student a hard time.”
    Heads turned toward Benny Obi’s empty seat.
    “Yes,” Mr. Purdy said. “He’s not here today, is he? Does anyone have an idea why?”
    Silence like the bottom of the sea.
    “Ridicule,” Mr. Purdy went on. “Disrespect. Bullying. Know what those are, class?”
    A few mumbles and nods. Shuffling of feet. Staring at hands.
    “Something happened on the playground yesterday. We don’t know exactly what, but we have an idea who was involved. If anyone cares to talk about it, come see me later. But here’s the thing: I know that
my
students—even those of you who might have been there—don’t ridicule anyone. We don’t disrespect anyone, or tease anyone, or make fun of anyone. We respect and support each other, even if someone is different from us. Isn’t that right?”
    Everyone nodded.
    Mr. Purdy looked us over, every one of us. He didn’t look mad, just serious. “Thank you,” he said finally. “I’m counting on you. You are much better than what went on yesterday. I know this, because I believe in you and expect you to uphold the standards of Mr.Purdy’s fourth-grade boot camp wherever you are.”

    Mr. Purdy let that sink in.
    After a long moment of silence, Ace raised his hand. “Is Benny coming back, Mr. Purdy?”
    “I sure hope so, Ace.”
    Man, I thought. If I were Benny Obi would I come back? It would be so hard. You’d have to face everyone knowing you’d made a fool of yourself after they’d seen that you didn’t know kung fu and had run away.
    Ace nodded. “Me too, Mr.