Fish in a Tree (13 page)

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First thing, Mr. Daniels calls me into the hallway.
“So, I heard there was a little bit of trouble yesterday.”

I fold my arms.

“Teachers often leave special instructions for a sub, but she was not supposed to share my notes with the class. I figured I’d write her a note telling her you could do a picture so she didn’t pressure you to write . . . I know that you struggle and I thought I was helping you. But I see I shouldn’t have handled it by singling you out that way. Ally, I think you know I would never hurt you on purpose.”

I do know that. And I am so relieved to hear him say it.

“So, I’m sorry, Ally. I really am. I hope you can forgive me.” He holds out his hand to shake. And I shake back.

• • •

That afternoon, Mr. Daniels moves his king, placing it on a black square between his own bishop and my knight. And I see the three of us. Albert, Keisha, and me.

With Keisha as a bishop. Tall and powerful and able to move across the entire board in one move.

With Albert being the king—the piece with a ton of value but the one unable to move more than one space at a time. Always taking tiny steps. Always running from and hiding behind the others.

And then there’s the knight. The piece that Mr. Daniels says is the clever one. The best piece for catching opponents in a fork. A piece that moves only in an L. I feel like I am the knight, as I’ve spent my whole life jumping over things.

Shay is the queen. The piece with the most power to move and frighten. The piece most protected and sacrificed for.

I realize that dealing with Shay every day is like playing chess. She is always looking for your weakness, always trying to get you flustered and force you into a mistake. Against her, you have to remember that the board is always changing and moving. Keep your eyes open. Be careful. Have a plan. Realize that you can only stay on the defensive for so long—eventually, you have to take a stand. But no matter what, don’t give up. Because, every once in a while, a pawn becomes a queen.

“Well?” Mr. Daniels asks, pulling me from my mind movie. “You’ve been thinking a long time over there. Thinking about your move?”

I look back down.

I search. I haven’t beaten him lately and I so want to.

And then I see it.

It’s the knight. The answer is in the knight.

I pick it up, move it, and hold my finger on the top to be sure I haven’t made a mistake.

Yup, I’ve put his king in check and given him nowhere else to move.

“Checkmate.”

He throws up his hands but seems happy.

“You didn’t let me win, right?”

“Ally. I have three brothers. I am not
capable
of letting someone win.” He laughs a little. “I think you’re just invincible.” And then he winks and begins taking the pieces off the board and putting them in the box. I am sad the game is over and I’m relieved that I trust him again.

And isn’t it funny—I’ve gone from invisible to invincible.

A
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Because it’s Fantastico Friday, Mr. Daniels has
planned a puzzle for us to solve.

He draws some squiggly lines from top to bottom on the board and tells us it’s a river. Then he proves he is the worst artist ever by drawing a chicken, a wolf, and a bag of grain on one side of the water.

“Mr. Daniels! Did you draw that with your eyes closed?” Oliver yells. “No offense, but that’s terrible!”

He laughs. “I’m not offended, Oliver. I have eyes to see it.” Then he looks at me. “We are not
all
wired to be gifted artists.”

Then he adds a little boat, which looks a lot like a banana, on the bank of the river.

“Okay,” he says. “Here is your problem to solve. You need to get all three of these items across the river, but you can only take one item at a time in the boat. You can’t leave the wolf alone with the chicken because the chicken will become lunch. You can’t leave the chicken with the grain or the grain will become lunch. So, how do you get all three items across the river? Remember, only one item in the boat at a time.”

“Easy!” Oliver yells. “You just take the chicken first.”

“What happens after that?”

“Then you take the grain.”

“But what will happen to the grain when you go back for the wolf?”

After a couple of seconds, Oliver drapes himself over his desk. Mr. Daniels pats Oliver on the back. “It’s okay, kiddo. It’s supposed to be hard.”

Mr. Daniels turns to Suki. “Any idea?”

She puts her pointer finger on her chin. “If you take grain first . . . wait . . . if you take wolf . . .” She sighs and shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Albert’s eyebrows are so scrunched up, they look like they’ll cover his eyes.

“Take a few minutes to try to solve this on your own. Then we’ll talk about it in a bit.”

I can’t figure it out. No one can. Most kids have drawn a river and the animals like Mr. Daniels did. After a while, kids start talking to each other. I’m surprised when he doesn’t tell us to be quiet while we try to keep solving it.

I tear off three little pieces of paper and draw the chicken on the first, the grain on the second, and the wolf on the third. I move them around, back and forth across the river. The class is loud now. I pick up my three pieces of paper and ask Mr. Daniels if I can work in the hallway because of the noise.

“Sure. Go ahead.”

I’m out there just a few minutes, moving my pieces around, when Shay and Jessica come out. They sit across the hall from me. I guess they came out here to work, too?

“This is dumb,” Jessica says.

“Tell me about it,” Shay answers. “Who cares about chickens and wolves or whatever.”

“Do you know the answer, Ally?” Jessica asks.

“Why are you asking her? Of course
she
doesn’t know,” Shay says. She whispers something to Jessica, and soon after, Shay is holding up signs with words. “Can you
read
this, Ally?”

I try to ignore them. I am not going to let her see me upset. I remember: Life with Shay is like playing chess. Don’t get flustered. Don’t make mistakes.

“Aw . . . you can’t read it,
can
you?” The baby voice doesn’t bother me as much as the words themselves. I try to concentrate on solving this problem.

Shay moves closer to me. “You. Are.
So.
Stupid, Ally. You know, Mr. Daniels is only nice to you because he feels sorry for you.”

“C’mon, Shay? Let’s go back inside,” Jessica squeaks.

“Don’t ‘c’mon’ me,” Shay snaps. “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m on
yours,
” Jessica says. But it isn’t the sound of loyalty. It’s the sound of fear.

I stand up, go into the classroom, and go into the corner behind Mr. Daniels’s desk.

It’s hard for me to push the sound of Shay’s voice out of my head. But I remind myself that just because someone says it doesn’t make it true. I concentrate on the three pieces of paper. The chicken, the wolf, and the grain.

I move the pieces of paper around on the floor. It takes me a while, but I realize that you need to take more than three trips. You need to take the chicken and then the grain, but then take the chicken back with you and leave it while you take the wolf. Then you leave the wolf with the grain and go back for the chicken.

I leap up. “I got it!” Keisha and Albert are surprised. So am I.

Mr. Daniels comes over and I whisper the answer in his ear. “Impressive work, Ally!”

He says I can go around and help others for the last remaining minutes. “Ally?” Max says in a loud whisper. “What’s the answer? Come tell us how you did it.”

By now, Shay and Jessica have come back in, and they see me helping Max. When I swing by her, Shay says in a low voice, “You’re still a loser, Ally. A total and complete
loser.
”

But Jessica smiles a bit at me.

Mr. Daniels calls us back to our seats. “Okay. That was a two-part assignment. The first was to solve the puzzle. The second was to see who would stick with it. Who would work on it and work on it until it was solved. Congratulations to the few of you that did.

“If you are one of the many that gave up and started talking to your friends about soccer and other things, I want you to consider that no matter how smart you are, success is reached with hard work, too.”

I can’t believe it. My experience with endless frustration and having to work on things for so long has actually paid off.

I guess maybe “I’m having trouble” is not the same as “I can’t.”

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“So, Fantasticos,” Mr. Daniels says, “I’ve told
you about nominating a class president for our first ever school-wide student government. Do we have our first nomination?”

Jessica raises her hand. “I nominate Shay.”

Shay looks back at her and turns forward. She looks like she’s ready for her crown.

“Okay, good. Another nomination?”

No one.

“C’mon. We can’t have an election with only one name.”

I wait, glancing around. I know there will be no more names because Shay has made it known since Mr. Daniels first announced the election that anyone who runs against her will regret it. In fact, their children and their children’s children will regret it. And she can actually do something like that.

Nope. There will be no more names.

Albert raises his hand. Whoa, Albert. Way to be brave. I glance back at Shay, whose eyes are now little slits.

But then Albert just asks to go to the bathroom.

After waiting and prodding, Mr. Daniels finally says, “I’ll draw a name out of a hat or tell the council that we don’t have a representative. C’mon, folks. Step up.”

Another wait. Then Shay raises
her
hand.

“Well, Shay, this is good sportsmanship. Who will you nominate?”

She cracks a smile. “I nominate Al-ly Nick-er-son.”

Wait.
No.
She didn’t say me? I look back at her staring at me while Mr. Daniels compliments her again.

And then it hits me like a boulder. Of course. She wants to win, so she nominated me. A surefire loser.

“Is that okay?” Mr. Daniels asks me.

“Can I say no?”

“Yeah, you can say no, but I think you should run.”

I really, really want to say no. Just not to him. “Okay. I’ll do it . . . I guess.”

“Good,” he says. “Now, both of you will need to say a few words tomorrow, and the voting will follow.”

“Oh, I get to write a speech!” Shay says to Jessica. Then I hear her whisper.

I am terrified. I can’t write a speech.

After school, Mr. Daniels apologizes for not being able to help me today because he has class at the college. However, he suggests that I just be honest about why I want to be president of the class. He asks if my mom can work with me that night. I tell him that she will. I know she would in a heartbeat, but I would never ask her to help with this. It would just get her hopes up.

• • •

I figure I should write something down if Shay is going to. I’ll look like a baby with no speech. So I sit down at our dining room table with a blank piece of paper—all bright white and staring at me and making my head hurt.

I want to ask my mom for help so bad, but if she knows I’m running for president of the class, she’ll get excited. She’ll want it even more than me.

I’m afraid to want it.

But a mind movie shows me at the front of the class and Mr. Daniels congratulating me, and I have to admit that I really would like it. I pick up the pencil and concentrate real hard. Real. Hard.

When I write, I press on the paper too hard, but I can’t help it. It makes my hand hurt. I try to spell as best I can. It takes me an hour and a half to write two paragraphs.

I finally go to bed, praying for a high fever, the kind of sickness the whole town talks about. The kind of sickness that Albert would find super interesting. A good reason to not show up tomorrow.

T
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On the way to school, I wonder about taking the
long way. Like through Mexico.

When I arrive, the first thing I see is Albert, who has a black eye.

“Albert,” Keisha says, “when are you going to teach those boys a lesson?”

“It’s nothing,” he says all serious, and then gets happy. “Look!” He holds up a big sign for me.

ALLY IS YOUR ALLY.
GIVE HER YOUR VOTE!

“You made me a poster for the election?” I ask, smiling. I know I’m going to lose, but this makes it okay. “Thank you, Albert.”

He looks proud.

“But, um . . . Why does it say my name twice?”

“Your name is a homonym.”

I should know better than to question Albert.

“You know, a word with the same spelling but different sounds and meanings. A-l-l-y spells your name, but it also spells ‘ally’ with a long ‘i’ sound at the end. An ally is someone who is on your side. Someone who sticks by you. Like allies in wars.”

Shay comes by with Jessica. She looks at the poster. Then at the three of us. “Good luck, six-legged freak. I guess Ally will get
three
votes, anyway.”

After they leave, I look at the three of us and think about how there are three primary colors. Yellow, blue, and red. Those three colors create every other color ever.

Keisha goes over to talk to Suki while I take a deep breath and turn to Albert. “I know I’m going to lose and Shay will never let me forget it.” I look down at the desk and see Albert’s sign. “But at least I’ll have a poster.” I smile at him. “Can I bring it home?”

“Yes, but you can’t give up,” Albert says.

“Okay. Well, maybe you’re right, Albert. But you shouldn’t give up, either.”

“I am not nominated for class president.”

I point at his black eye. “But you got beat up again, didn’t you?”

He shifts his weight and looks away. “It’s hardly the same,” he says, and I feel sad that he doesn’t see that it isn’t too different.

Then Keisha returns. “Are you ready for today?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Ready for public humiliation? How do I get into these things?”

She leans over and whispers, “You’ll do a good job. Albert and I are voting for you no matter what you say in your speech.”

I half smile. “What if I say you have to lick the lunch tables clean?”

“Well, I just won’t do it. That will be easy,” Keisha says, pushing my shoulder.

Albert adds, “It depends what we have for lunch that day.”

We laugh. I’m happy that he doesn’t seem mad about my questioning him.

Mr. Daniels is wearing a George Washington tie. He gets up and calls Shay to present first. I notice she is dressed in red, white, and blue. I look down. I didn’t even think about wearing anything special.

Shay talks about how great she is and all that she’ll do. Kids applaud over her promises. Some of the things she says she’ll do I can’t imagine how she would pull off. Like extra recesses and longer snack times. When she promises new, bigger lockers for the hallways, I know she can’t do that. With every sentence, kids are happier and I feel smaller and smaller.

I get up there, holding my paper. The sound that comes out of my mouth doesn’t sound like a real word. I try again and get the same sound. Then four more times. The quiet laughs rise all around me, but Mr. Daniels holds his palm toward the class without taking his eyes off me, and the noise stops.

I feel hot. Then Etch A Sketch brain hits me and I go blank. Staring at a page.

That
I
wrote.

That I can’t read.

Shay looks smug and it makes it even harder.

Mr. Daniels bends over, resting his hands on his knees. He whispers, “
Look.
You can
do
this. And you can hit it out of the
park,
too.”

I shake my head a little.

“I . . . be
lieve
in you, Ally. Now, forget what you wrote. Put the paper down and take a deep breath. Close your eyes if it makes you nervous to see everyone and just be honest. Be . . .
you.
”

He slides the paper out of my hands and I stand there silent for too long. I do close my eyes, wishing it would block their view of me as well.

Mr. Daniels’s voice is gentle. Almost a whisper. “I want to be president of the class be
cause
 . . .”

“I think it will be fun . . . and I think I would like it,” I say, eyes still closed.

“
Good
 . . . keep going,” he says.

“I promise to be honest . . . I promise to work hard . . . I promise to listen to everyone who has ideas—not just my friends—because I would be in charge of the
whole
class. Well, not in charge exactly . . . but I want everyone to have a chance to give their ideas. I’ll go to meetings and I would try to get extra things, like recesses, but I can’t promise that I can do something like that.” I open my eyes and look at Mr. Daniels. “
Can
I do that?”

“Actually, no. You don’t want me fired, do you?”

I shake my head, feeling kind of dazed.

“Do you have anything else to say?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Okay, then.” He motions toward my seat and I sit down, stunned that it’s over.

“Now for the vote!” he says.

He begins to pass out little pieces of paper.

“Wait!” Shay says. “All the other teachers have just had everyone raise their hands.”

“Well, I thought it should be more like a real election. A secret ballot. Everyone will write the name of their choice for class president on the paper and fold it up. I will walk around to collect them.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Well . . .” He shrugs. “If it’s good enough for the U.S. government, it’s good enough for us.”

I smooth out the tiny piece of paper and try hard to be neat.

There’s a lump in my throat as I write down my own name, and I don’t even know why.

Maybe because I’m not writing it down on a sign-in sheet for detention or signing an apology for something.

I fold it one, two, three times and put it in the basket when Mr. Daniels comes by.

He says he’ll let us know later, but everyone begs him to count now. So, he does.

He opens the first one. “
Shay.
”

He opens another. “
Shay.
”

He opens a third. “
Shay.
”

But when he opens the next four, they are for me. And I’m surprised.

A couple more for Shay and then four more for me. Four more?

I can’t imagine who would vote for me. I thought everyone loved Shay, but as I look around the room, some kids are glancing at me. And some actually look happy—Oliver and Suki and a bunch of other kids.

Toward the end of counting, when it looks like I’ve actually won, Shay crosses her arms and falls back against her chair.

In the end, Mr. Daniels shakes hands with Shay and tells her she ran a good campaign. Then, he turns to me and says, “Congratulations, Madam President Nickerson.” And then he salutes me and laughs. The class claps. Keisha is up and dancing while Albert gives me a single nod.

“Mr. Daniels!” Max raises his hand. “I think this calls for a party!”

“Why, Max? Because it’s Wednesday?”

“Any day is a good day for a party, Mr. D!” he says, and Shay looks annoyed with him.

But her real dagger eyes are saved for me. At least she’s quiet for once.

And that’s all perfectly fine with me.