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Authors: Joan Lowery Nixon

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BOOK: Laugh Till You Cry
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Some of the kids in the class laughed, and Hayden’s face grew red. “How come you made me a servant? I might have been a knight or something.”

“It’s too late for wishful thinking,” Cody said.

Again there was laughter, which made Cody feel good. He understood what Jake meant about seeing an audience warm up. Things were a lot better than they had been before.

“Did you provide Claudius with wine when he asked for it?”

Hayden scowled, but he answered, “Yes. I guess.”

“And poison to put in the wine?”

“Don’t blame me. I just did what I was told.”

“Let’s get this right. Are you saying that it doesn’t bother you to get someone in trouble as long as someone else tells you to do it?”

Hayden glanced quickly at Eddie, then back at Cody. “Who are you talking about?”

“Claudius, of course,” Cody said. “Weren’t you there when he poured poison in the king’s ear? And put poison on the tip of Laertes’s sword so it would kill Prince Hamlet? And poisoned the wine that Queen Gertrude accidentally drank? And more recently, tore up that report in the wastebasket?”

“That wasn’t me,” Hayden shouted. He looked at Eddie.

Ms. Jackson looked puzzled. “Cody, I seem to be missing something here.”

“Sorry,” Cody said. “I’ll strike that last question
from the record.” Quickly he turned back to Hayden and asked, “Since you had to be on hand to do whatever Claudius asked of you, did you ever overhear any of his conversations with the queen?”

“What do you mean?” Hayden asked suspiciously.

“Did you ever hear Claudius tell Gertrude that he thought Prince Hamlet was pretending to be crazy?”

Hayden thought a minute. Cody wondered if he was trying to remember what was in the play. Finally, Hayden said, “Yeah, I heard him tell her that.”

“Does that mean you can testify that Claudius thought Hamlet was putting on an act?”

“Yeah,” Hayden said.

“Did you ever hear Gertrude tell him that sometimes you can go too far trying to get someone in trouble and they’ll smoke you out and you’re likely to get caught?”

“Smoke?” Hayden half rose from his chair.

“Just answer. Yes or no.”

“Yeah. I mean no. I don’t think that was in the play. Was it?” He glared at Cody.

“Thank you,” Cody said. “You may return to your seat. I now call Sir Paul, cousin of Horatio.”

As Hayden stumbled from the chair, Ms. Jackson said, “Good job, Hayden. I like the way you acted so nervous—just the way a reluctant witness might behave.”

Cody watched Hayden hurry to his seat. Now Cody believed Eddie was the real ringleader and Hayden was just going along. One thing puzzled Cody, though—Hayden’s strange reaction when Cody said “smoke you out.” What was going on with the sugar and the lie that morning about bringing a big project to school?

Paul took the witness chair, and Cody brought his mind back to the business at hand. “Sir Paul, as cousin
to Horatio, you know that Hamlet and Horatio were close friends. Is that right?”

“Right,” Paul said. He looked as if he was enjoying himself.

“Where was Horatio when Hamlet died?”

“There with Hamlet.”

“Did Hamlet give Horatio any famous last words?”

Paul nodded. “Hamlet told Horatio to stay alive so he could tell the story of what had happened.”

“Did Horatio do that?”

“Did he ever,” Paul said. “He talked about it all the time, even when he grew to be an old man. Frankly, some of us got sick of hearing about it.”

Paul and Cody grinned at each other, and some of the kids laughed.

Cody asked, “Sir Paul, did Horatio ever say whether he thought that Hamlet was out of his mind or knew what he was doing?”

Paul looked solemn and answered, “Horatio knew that Hamlet had obeyed his father’s ghost and had taken vengeance on Claudius.”

“So he thought Hamlet was sane?”

“Sure,” Paul said. “Remember, Horatio had seen the ghost, too. He’s the one who told Hamlet his father’s ghost was looking for him. Besides, Hamlet had warned Horatio that he’d probably act strange.”

“Thank you,” Cody said. “You may be excused.”

As Paul returned to his seat, Cody faced the classroom. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” he said, “you have heard the evidence of our witnesses, and you have read the play.

“Now I’m going to ask you to vote, based on what you believe. How many of you think Hamlet
was out of his mind and not totally responsible for what he did?”

A few hands went up, and Cody counted them.

“How many think that Hamlet, despite the weird way he sometimes acted, knew what he was doing and deliberately followed his father’s wishes when he murdered Claudius?”

Most of the hands were raised, some of them waving wildly.

Cody said, “The majority has voted that Hamlet should be indicted. Because Hamlet didn’t stick around, there can’t be a trial. The only trial was in having to read the play. The only thing worse was having to see the movie, too. Thank you all for your civic participation.”

“Hey, that was fun,” Emily said, and Paul applauded. A few of the other kids joined in.

Ms. Jackson stood and said, “Cody, that was a great report. A-plus. And all you witnesses were terrific.”

Cody beamed as he walked toward his seat, but as he passed Hayden he felt his glare and saw his mouth twist. Cody realized that Hayden was jealous. The thought surprised him.

Motive: jealousy.
The words flashed into his mind. It didn’t make any difference. Cody admitted to himself that he’d been jealous of Hayden, too. It was a lame motive for his cousin’s behavior.

With a crackle from the wall speaker, the intercom sounded, and Mr. Carmody began to speak. “I have a short reminder before you leave your classes for lunch period. Today, immediately after school, our football team will be playing a home game with Mulberry Middle School. Our cheerleaders have been working hard on their performance, and we’re hoping for a good turnout of our student body.”

Emily giggled and gave a bounce in her seat. Cody turned to see Eddie’s smug expression. They were up to something, Cody knew.

And that something probably included getting him into trouble.

Was there anything he could do about it?

CHAPTER TWELVE

As soon as the lunch bell rang, Cody hurried out the door and down to the office. He planned to use the school’s telephone to call Jake, but there were some kids already waiting.

Mrs. Allen was announcing, “Take no longer than three minutes per call. Why so many of you forgot to tell your parents there was an after-school game is beyond me!”

Cody left the office. He’d eat lunch first, then call Jake.

Out in the hall he bumped into Paul, who was standing there with Bruce.

“Come eat with us,” Paul told Cody. “I thought of something else you should have asked about Horatio. I’ll tell you about it.”

“Okay,” Cody said, but he looked at each of them, puzzled. “How come you’re waiting out here in the hall?”

Paul motioned toward the boys’ bathroom. “Bruce was trying to decide if he wanted to go now so he
wouldn’t get pushed around by the crowd that will come this way after lunch.”

Cody smiled. “He’s doing a Hamlet.”

“Huh?”

“You know, ‘to pee or not to pee.’ ”

The guys cracked up, and Cody felt really good. He was beginning to be glad that Hayden had destroyed his written report. It had made him do something totally different, and maybe now everything was going to be better.

Paul finally stopped laughing. He clapped Cody on the shoulder and said, “Come on, y’all. Let’s get lunch.”

After school Cody still had to stand in line in the office for a few minutes while kids ahead of him used the phone. The halls emptied quickly as most of the students headed for the bleachers on the north side of the football field.

By the time Cody reached the phone, Mrs. Allen had stepped out of the office. Cody was glad. There was no way he could have kept her from overhearing his conversation with Jake.

Luckily, he got Jake on the first try. “It’s me, Cody,” he said. “I need your opinion. I found this scrap of paper and it’s got something weird on it.”

“Go ahead,” Jake said.

Cody pulled the scrap of paper out of his pocket and read what was on it to Jake, beginning with the powdered sugar. “All the words aren’t here,” he said, “because the paper’s torn.”

“Where’d you get that paper?” Jake’s voice was quick and sharp.

“Hayden’s wastepaper basket.”

“Where are you now?”

“At school. In the office.”

“Why aren’t you at home?”

“There’s a game. Everybody’s outside except me by this time. They’re all in the bleachers.”

“Is someone with you in the office? You get outside, too. I’ll be right there.”

Cody heard a click as Jake hung up the phone. Slowly, he replaced the receiver on the phone, wondering why Jake seemed so hurried and stern. He glanced at the phone and, for the first time, read the school’s phone number: 713–555–4321.

Gasping as he stepped back from the counter, Cody realized that it was the number on the scrap of paper that Alma had taken from Hayden’s school uniform pants.

It hadn’t been Bobby who had made those two phone calls. Maybe it had been Hayden! Hayden, who both times had known that Cody was away from the cafeteria and out of sight of anyone who could vouch for his location.

Today Hayden brought something with him to school. Was it some kind of bomb? It couldn’t be a real bomb! Maybe it was a smoke bomb. He had acted really weird on the witness stand when Cody had mentioned the word
smoke.

Jake had said he’d get to the school soon. But Cody felt it was up to him to find Hayden and stop whatever he and his dirtbag friends were planning to do. He ran as fast as he could out of the office, through the back doors of the school, and toward the football field.

At the back of the bleachers he saw Eddie and Brad bent over, staring into the shadows, so he raced toward them. Hayden was nowhere in sight.

Just as Cody arrived, however, there was a loud hiss and a sizzle, and someone under the bleachers let out a scream.

It was Hayden who scrambled out, stumbling to his feet, his hair singed and the sleeve of his polo shirt on fire.

Cody was barely aware that Brad had stepped back and that Eddie had turned and run. Without a word, he charged into Hayden so hard he knocked him down into the dirt. He rolled Hayden onto his stomach, lying on top of him. He scooped up handfuls of dirt, pressing them against Hayden’s scorched sleeve.

“The fire’s out,” he assured Hayden.

Suddenly people were everywhere. He was aware of yelling and scrabbling as the kids hurried from the bleachers. Police were herding the students away from a billowing cloud of white smoke, and firemen were dousing the smoke bomb.

Hands grabbed Cody’s right arm and his collar, and he was roughly jerked up and off Hayden.

“I’ve got you!” Coach Anderson shouted.

Someone else held him tightly as the coach gently helped Hayden to his feet. “Are you hurt?” she asked. “What did Cody do to you?”

Hayden, streaked with dirt, his shirt burnt and torn, looked at Cody, anger and jealousy no longer in his eyes. His face twisted as if he was going to break down.

“I was on fire and he put it out. That’s what he did,” Hayden said.

Jake appeared next to Cody, who was suddenly released. “Suppose you tell us exactly what happened,” Jake said to Hayden.

Hayden gulped twice, then managed to say, “I didn’t want to do it. They thought it would be cool to set off a smoke bomb.”

“They?”

Hayden looked around and then answered. “Eddie
and Brad. And when they saw Cody go off by himself, they got the idea of making the phone calls and getting people to think he did it.”

“Not me! It was Hayden’s idea!” Eddie’s voice piped up, and Cody turned to see that another uniformed policeman had Eddie’s shoulder in a firm grip.

Jake was stern. “Didn’t you realize that what you were doing was a criminal act?”

Hayden ducked his head. “I did. I knew my parents would be mad, but I never figured we’d get caught. They said it wasn’t a real bomb. It was just a smoke bomb. It was a tough-guy thing to do.” He looked up at Jake.

“Tell me exactly what happened,” Jake said.

“I thought the fuse sputtered out,” Hayden began, “so I crawled under the bleachers to get it lit again. Only the smoke bomb went off and shot out some of the hot stuff. I got out of there fast, but my shirt was on fire. Cody knocked me down and put out the flames.”

Two paramedics pushed through the crowd. “Anyone hurt?” one of them asked.

Hayden put a hand to his cheek and said, “My face stings.”

“How about this kid?” the other paramedic said. “Looks like a spot on his arm.”

Cody didn’t try to sort out everything that was going on. There was an emergency room and doctors and Aunt Rosalie, who stopped talking only when Uncle Austin began lecturing Hayden about juvenile court and the hopeful probability of probation, community service, and “deferred adjudication.” Cody was bandaged and cleaned up and finally ended up sitting quietly in his grandmother’s kitchen with Hayden while his mother, aunt, and uncle talked in low tones in the living room.

Hayden suddenly broke the silence. “They’re trying to decide how and what to tell Grandma.”

“I think
we
should tell her, not them,” Cody said.

Hayden’s mouth twisted in misery. “She’s going to get upset and be mad at me. And why would you be nice to me, anyway?”

“We’re cousins and we could be friends. If we tell her the right way it will be better,” Cody said.

“What’s the right way?”

“We’ve got to go in there acting like friends and just tell her the part about the smoke bomb and maybe how we got you out, if she’s got questions. We don’t need to tell her all the other stuff you and those guys did.”

Hayden thought a minute. “Okay. Like friends. But we’re really not friends.” Hayden looked miserable again. “I’m not going to have any friends after what happened.”

“Like I said, we could be friends,” Cody said. “Eddie and Brad aren’t real friends. Why’d you stay with them?”

BOOK: Laugh Till You Cry
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