I didn’t get all the details, and I didn’t understand everything, but I learned real quick in that waiting room that her family was in jeopardy of losing all their land to Native Americans. Of course we were also barely breathing because Danielle’s grandma was in emergency surgery.
Her grandma had a heart attack. All the stress from worrying about her husband and their land mess caused a piece of plaque to break free and travel to her heart, where it got stuck. Plaque is made of cholesterol, which in an older person like Danielle’s grandma could have been in her arteries for many years. Her grandma was okay with just the cholesterol, but all the stress was giving her high blood pressure, and that’s what no one knew about. It was the high blood pressure and increased stress that made some of the plaque break free. When it got stuck, blood couldn’t keep circulating to that area of her heart. Then she collapsed with a heart attack. I learned about all this stuff with Nurse Rose at the center. Mom and I had helped with several patients who were recovering from heart attacks.
The doctors had to cut Danielle’s grandmother open to fix her heart so that the blood could circulate. That’s called a bypass. Her grandmother made it—but she still had a long road to recovery. That was where I came in.
Mom and I were the in-home care people for Danielle’s grandma. We helped her do rehab exercises, keeping a careful eye on how she handled walking around. Did she get short of breath? How did her breathing sound and how well did she recover from any exercise? Of course there were also some trained nurses (Nurse Rose and others) who came once or twice a week to check her blood pressure and to clean her incision. Danielle’s grandma also had to go to the doctor every so often to get checked. But on a daily basis, it was Mom and I who helped the most. We even kept her house in order by doing the laundry and the cleaning.
Danielle and her mother took care of the meals. Danielle checked in on her grandma a lot (everyone did), but she also did her share of farmwork by carrying out her grandma’s jobs. She tended to the garden and mowed the lawns, and like I already mentioned, she had a lot to do with preparing the meals.
Her grandpa, on the other hand, still walked around with a heavy heart, if not a sick one. His wife’s close call had taken a toll on him. And then to have a Native American doctor to thank for saving her in the midst of a messy land ordeal—which didn’t seem to be getting figured out any time soon—that ate at him too.
Well, Danielle’s grandpa came into the house for a drink one afternoon, and it was her grandma who set him straight. “Alfred,” she said. “You need to stop this moping around if you expect me to get any better. I can’t keep worrying about you while I’m trying to make my heart strong again.”
He looked at me and said, “I guess you got her feeling better. She’s back to nagging at me.” Then there came a slight smile. The first I’d seen from him. He put his empty glass down, grabbed his hat, and headed back out the door. I followed him.
I stood behind him on the porch, looking out over the farm. I thought of our Collaborative Classroom friend James and his words to Peter last year. “She’s right, sir,” I said. “None of it’s your fault.”
Believe me, saying that took all the courage I could muster up. Her grandpa never turned around to look at me. He wiped at his face with the handkerchief from his pocket, then stepped off the porch and returned to the business of his farm.
I headed back into the house, where my mom and Danielle’s grandma sat at the kitchen table. That was when Danielle’s grandma said something that I know my mom felt in her heart, ’cause I sure felt it in mine.
“You know,” her grandma began, “there was a time when I was convinced the devil himself had set the two of you upon this family … but how wrong I was. I know now that our God sent us some angels instead.”
I was so happy and relieved to finally have Grandma Evelyn on my side.
A few days after Danielle’s grandma had a heart attack, I was sitting in a booth doing my homework at the restaurant. It was about an hour before closing time. Mom and Vincent were in the back. Mom was getting whatever she needed for the last table she was waiting, and Vincent was beginning to clean up for the night. The door opened, but I didn’t look to see who it was until they sat across from me.
“Hey, Little Brat,” Reena said.
“Hi, Lexie,” Lisa said.
“Hey,” I said back. Then like, the dumbest thing came out of my mouth. “Where’s Brandon?” I could have kicked myself.
“He’s getting help.” Lisa leaned forward. “Thanks to you.”
I didn’t say anything, but I know I looked surprised.
“After his car rampage—the one you and that boy caused. We saw you running away from the scene,” Lisa said.
“Hand in hand, I might add,” Reena said. “Did you kiss him?”
“Reena, stop for a sec,” Lisa said. “Let me finish. The officer at the carnival took Brandon into custody. It was clear he’d been drinking. Now he’s enrolled in an alcohol and substance abuse program that will hopefully help him get a fresh start.”
I smiled.
“We wanted to get him help,” Lisa said, “but we didn’t know how to go about it. He changed so quickly after his injury. I felt bad for him so I went along with whatever he did.”
“I know,” I said, thinking of Mom and Dad. I understood how hard it was to get control in that situation. And how it took courage.
“Did you kiss him?” Reena asked again.
“Of course,” I said. “And not like a kindergartner.”
Reena laughed.
I was telling the truth. I didn’t do one of those little pecks like Margaret tried, and like Peter thought we were going to do. I was a good kisser. Peter, on the other hand, needed practice.
“We’d better go. My mom is waiting for us outside,” Lisa said. “See ya.”
“See ya,” I said back.
“Don’t worry, Little Brat. If I see you in the halls next year, I’ll be sure to talk to you,” Reena said.
I smiled. “Sounds good.”
Then they turned and walked out.
Mom came over just as they were leaving and slid in next to me. She asked about “those girls,” so I explained everything to her. Heart-to-heart talks like this were still new for us, but I loved them. Did I owe getting my mother back to my friends, my time at the hangout, or Teach? Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. I just knew I wasn’t ever giving her back. I leaned over and hugged Mom. We stayed like that until Vincent came out of the kitchen and hit us with one of his corny jokes.
“Can you believe they just discovered diarrhea is genetic?” he announced as he walked across the restaurant floor. Mom and I looked at each other with scrunched-up faces. “That’s right,” he said. “They say it runs in your jeans.”
Vincent bent over laughing and slapped his knee. And you know what, I was laughing too.
JESSICA VO
We were over the hurdle. Danielle’s grandma had made it. The only thing left for us was a happy ending, which meant graduation and a wedding—but of course, there were still a few surprises.
As the end of the school year approaches, most teachers tend to lighten up. You might not get as much homework and you might get a little more free time in the classroom. There’s still work to be done, but it’s not as serious. Everyone is counting down the days.
None of this was the case for our class. Not one of us was anxious for the school year to be over, including Mr. Terupt. He wanted to teach us all as much as he could before his time was up. So instead of kicking back and relaxing, he told us we had another book to read. Another book that he wanted to bring alive for us. I knew this meant connections.
There was no complaining. The only downside any of us saw in having another project at this time of year was that it would make the few remaining days go by faster. When you’re bored, the days creep by, but when you’re participating in any of Mr. Terupt’s projects, time flies.
FADE IN: Classroom.
MR. TERUPT
I have a bag of crayons here.
MR. TERUPT holds a brown paper bag for all to see.
MR. TERUPT
I’m going to come around so that each of you can reach in and take one. No peeking. I’ll explain what this is for after everyone picks.
Camera follows MR. TERUPT around as each student selects from the bag. The crayons are all different sizes. Some with paper, some without. Some broken and others brand-new. But all are either red or blue.
MR. TERUPT
(holding up a book)
Okay gang, here is the next class novel. The Whipping Boy by Sid Fleischman. It’s another older book and another Newbery Medal winner. Do any of you know what a whipping boy is?
PETER
A boy who gets whipped.
LEXIE
Duh!
We hear giggling throughout the class. PETER and LEXIE are back to normal after a night of romance.
MR. TERUPT
Yes, a whipping boy is a boy who gets whipped. For what?
PETER
Naughty bathroom behavior.
LEXIE
Ha-ha!
MR. TERUPT
Yes, for naughty behavior. But whose?
Classroom grows quiet. We see many puzzled expressions.
MR. TERUPT
Good. Now I’ve got your attention. Believe it or not, some royal households of past centuries kept whipping boys to suffer the punishments for a misbehaving prince.
JESSICA
(appalled)
You mean the prince misbehaved and then some other boy was whipped for it!
MR. TERUPT
Yes, that’s exactly the case. The other boy wasn’t royalty, but some low-level peasant. As Mr. Fleischman will refer to him, “a street rat.”
ANNA
But that’s not fair.
MR. TERUPT grows a big smile. We watch him unroll a worn piece of parchment. He clears his throat and then reads.
MR. TERUPT
A new Snow Hill School law. It has been declared, on this twenty-sixth day of May, that those of you holding blue crayons are hereby considered royalty, and those of you holding red crayons are whipping boys. Royalty will enjoy extra recess while whipping boys will bear the burden of extra classroom work. Royalty will enjoy Field Day, and whipping boys will not.
PETER slams his desk and jumps to his feet in an outrage, the red crayon still in his hand.
PETER
You can’t do that! It’s not fair!
MR. TERUPT
(continuing to read from the parchment)
It is in this spirit that we will connect with Mr. Fleischman’s story and bring it to life. Signed, Mary Williams, queen of Snow Hill School, and William Terupt, knight in shining armor.
MR. TERUPT tacks the new law to the classroom bulletin board. Then he turns around to face the class, specifically PETER.
MR. TERUPT
So you see, Peter, I didn’t do anything. This new law comes from our queen, and that’s just the way it is.
MR. TERUPT begins passing out the novels.
MR. TERUPT
Here are your books. Once you have your copy you may begin. As always, be sure to record all your important thinking and questioning in your journal. Happy reading.
JEFFREY
(in a grumbling voice)
Peter’s right. This isn’t fair.
MR. TERUPT walks back to his seat without saying anything else, but he has a smile that he can’t hide.
FADE OUT.
JESSICA VO
At lunch, I felt bad when I overheard Jeffrey telling Peter that he hated “the royalty.” That was when Luke got up from our table and threw his food and blue crayon in the trash. Danielle and Anna had selected red crayons, so they had to stay inside for recess. I didn’t have much fun without them. I just felt terrible. And I couldn’t believe they were going to miss out on Field Day. I agreed. It wasn’t fair. But why did Mr. Terupt only smile any time that was mentioned?
Field Day was something Peter and I had been looking forward to for over a month. Ever since Terupt had told us wrestling was going to be part of it. But then he went ahead and robbed us of that opportunity with some new law that he and Mrs. Williams thought up. I was ripped. As soon as everything was going okay in my life, things got screwed up. It wasn’t fair.
I went home and complained to Mom about the stupid law. Mom was going to be volunteering at Field Day, and she planned to bring Asher with her so everyone could see him. I wanted to be there for that. I wanted Anna to see him. I told Mom that the stupid law wasn’t fair.
“A lot in life isn’t,” Mom said. “You’ve known that for a long time.”
I didn’t know what to say. Mom was right. Was that what Terupt wanted us to get out of this experience? That life wasn’t fair? That’s a good lesson, but I didn’t need to miss Field Day to understand it. I made up my mind to tell Terupt just that, but I never got a chance.
He got us started reading that stupid book first thing the next morning, and by the time we stopped, the roles in the book had reversed. Something crazy happens in the story so that the whipping boy becomes the prince and the prince becomes the whipping boy. So Terupt reversed the roles in our classroom. Suddenly, I was royalty. I had the privilege of recess that day, while the former royalty did not. And I was going to be able to participate in Field Day!
My excitement didn’t last very long. By the end of recess I was feeling bad for the kids stuck inside. And I felt even worse about them missing Field Day. It sucked being one of the peasants, but I think it was easier being one of them than it was being stuck as royalty. I know that might sound weird, but it’s true. It stunk for these guys to suddenly be peasants, but that was just the way it was going to be.
I hoped something would happen in the book to fix everything once and for all. That was the only chance I saw for change. But Peter thought differently. He wasn’t waiting on the book. He decided to make a move, and once he did, it was easy for the rest of us to follow.
Supposedly, I was a hero for helping Danielle’s grandma at the carnival. Usually I want to be recognized as the best, but not this time. Lots of people helped. I just did what I’d learned to do. What Peter did during Mr. Terupt’s Whipping Boy project was a lot more courageous.
It was Field Day. We came to school that morning with half our class still deemed royalty and the other half peasants. There wasn’t much of the story left for us to read, so Mr. Terupt had us finish it before Field Day got started. This was where Peter stepped in. We were all seated and ready to start reading when he stood up.
“I’d like to say something,” he said. “Last year I spent a chunk of time alone and feeling helpless. I remember what that was like—it stunk! And now a bunch of you are stuck as peasants and there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re helpless. I don’t like it and I don’t feel good about it. I don’t care if I’m supposed to be royalty. I’m not going out to Field Day if you can’t come with us.”
Peter sat down. His voice was shaking and beginning to crack by the time he finished.
“Peter’s right,” Jeffrey said, standing up. “I’m not going out unless everyone comes either.” He sat back down.
Wendy was next. She stood up and did the same. Then Marty. Then Nick. By the time the protesting stopped, all the royalty had joined Peter.
Now you know why I said Peter was the hero.
We waited for Mr. Terupt’s response.
“Can any of you tell me what lessons I was hoping you’d get out of this book and our class law?”
“Yeah,” Jeffrey said. “Life isn’t fair.”
“That’s right,” Mr. Terupt said. “We’ve had plenty of experience with that truth already, but let this be a final reminder. You need to keep working hard and stick together. Your hard work and friendships will help you through good and bad. The exchange program provided you with opportunities to abandon each other, but you didn’t. Next year and beyond will provide the same
opportunities, and I hope you remain together then. Now, what’s the last lesson learned that Peter just showed us?”
Jessica spoke up. “That when we see unfair situations or injustices in our world, it’s up to us to do something about them. Remaining silent when we don’t agree with what’s happening does no good. That only allows the unfair situation to continue.”
“Spoken beautifully, Jessica. I couldn’t have said it any better myself. And I definitely couldn’t have showed you what to do any better than Peter did. Thank you, Peter.”
We finished the book after that. Mr. Terupt actually read it aloud and we followed along. It has a great ending because the two boys become best friends and both enjoy being free—there is no more whipping boy! That meant there were no longer peasants in our classroom, and we were all allowed to attend Field Day! It was a moment of celebration.
To be honest, I really don’t remember much from this year’s Field Day. But I’ll always remember Mr. Terupt’s Whipping Boy twist leading up to the day. And I’ll always remember Peter’s heroic stand.
CONCLUSION
—Peter was the hero.
Detective Luke
Jeffrey and I got to wrestle at Field Day, and we were easily the best. It was fun to show off our stuff. Everyone thought we were amazing. Jeffrey’s new little brother, Asher, sat by the side of the mat bouncing up and down and clapping the whole time.
I could tell you all about the moves I hit and how nasty I looked doing them, but there was something else more important than that. Our guest referee was a high school kid volunteering his time—Middle-Finger Boy. I remembered him well. Lexie filled me in on Brandon being a wrestler and how he missed competing this past season because of an injury. Coach Terupt knew the story and wanted to help the kid, despite his middle finger. No surprise there.
Brandon turned out to be pretty cool. He showed me and Jeffrey a couple of nice moves at the end of the day. Something told me I’d be seeing more of him at my wrestling practices, and I was good with that.