Page 42 of Bookish Boys Don't Date Social Girls
“I’ll call on three kids randomly. Before you answer Tammy’s question, first tell me your name and what your favorite thing to do outside is.”
I glance at Tammy to make sure it’s okay that I changed the thing they should tell me, and she gives me a thumbs up. Latisha is one of several kids who don’t have their hands in the air. I can’t blame her for wanting to watch first. I sort of wish I could, too. Those who do have their hands up are squirming or bouncing in place and waving their hands wildly. Unexpected pressure makes me nervous to make a choice. Finally, I pick the girl who looks most eager.
“You with the flamingo shirt. What is your name?”
The girl stands. “I’m Loretta.”
“Hello, Loretta. What is your favorite outdoor activity?”
“I love to swim.”
A murmur of agreement ripples through the children. “Very good. Now, tell us about Cindy Caterpillar’s life.”
Loretta has clearly done this before because the girl is a pro! She tells the story with emotion and hand gestures; it’s impressive. Her story is about how Cindy Caterpillar was a rich caterpillar who has two bedrooms, one for her caterpillar state and one for her butterfly state, and all the other little caterpillars loved to go to Cindy’s house because she has a garden room bursting with all their favorite flower foods.
The next kid to share his version of Cindy’s life is also a great, confident speaker and excellent storyteller. I worry that it might turn Latisha off from speaking. Luckily, the third kid to share has a disjointed story and she mumbles, making it difficult to hear her. But the group of kids cheer just as enthusiastically when she finishes as they did for the first two.
Tammy then asks for three kids to share what the story would have been like if Cindy’s best friend, Gus Grasshopper, had told it. Again, I’m super impressed by each kid. I don’t think I would have been able to come up with anything at all, but after listening to the three answers, I begin to understand what the goal is.
The last exercise is for three more kids to change the story to an unhappily ever after ending. I laugh when kids talk about spies dropping from the trees and setting off bombs or kidnapping Cindy. One kid gives a surprisingly insightful version of climate change causing the extinction of the garden and all the bugs dying off.
My heart expands a little each time I catch Latisha completely engrossed in the activity. She even whispers back and forth with the two girls who joined her on the blanket. It seems to me they are enjoying each other’s company as well as the stories.
Finally, Tammy thanks everyone for coming, thanks me for volunteering, and invites us all back on Thursday.By that point, several parents or older siblings stand along the outside of the group, waiting to take possession of their children. I smile, thinking of all the times Cisco or Justice collected me and the girls from dance class, ceramics, or whatever class we were taking at the time. Suddenly, it hits me that my parents must have been paying for at least Ava’s admission fees.
I’m distracted from my thoughts when Latisha hops up and runs over to throw her arms around a thirty-something woman the same way she did with me. It must be her aunt. Knowing Latisha’s tragic past, I already have mad respect for the woman, but it makes me like her more to see how happy Latisha is to see her.
Tammy walks up beside me, pulling my attention away. “Thanks for coming today, Sam. I hope you enjoyed yourself.”
“I really did!” I enthuse. “I can’t believe how smart these kids are. What an excellent game that was.”
“I’m glad you liked it. These kids really are an inspiration, aren’t they?”
“Man, they seem smarter than me already, and they're only in middle school.”
Tammy waves a hand at me. “Don’t discount yourself like that. You’re clearly plenty smart. Can I count on you for Thursday?”
“Absolutely.”
“Great. I’ll pick a game that is more interactive for you as well.”
My nerves fire and I grimace. “Just so I don’t have to know any answers. I don’t know anything about books.”
“No, I just mean, it’ll be more physical. Like, you might have to be “It” in a version of Duck, Duck, Goose. Or you might have to move through the group to crown literary royalty. Something more than standing and pointing.”
“Oh, I can handle that.”
“And, if you stick around,” Tammy says. “You might learn a thing or two about literature before the summer is over.”
“I would love that. See you Thursday.”
I walk over to my blanket to store it and my book in my bag and grin at Latisha who is dragging her aunt across the lawn by the hand.
“Sam! Sam! I want you to meet my aunt.”
I rest the bag on my shoulder and meet them halfway. “Hi, I’m Sam.”
“Hi Sam, I’m Brandy.”
