Lunch Money (21 page)

Mr. Z was still talking.

“I'm glad that Greg and Maura got to sit through this whole meeting tonight. I'm proud to have them see how much care goes into every detail of what happens in our schools. And I want them to see that this is not ‘us against Mrs. Davenport,' because that's not the way it works. We
all
want the same thing—what's best for the school, and what's best for every student.”

Greg looked over at Mrs. Davenport, and she was nodding. And Greg felt himself nodding too.

Mr. Z said, “This idea that Greg and Maura have, it's not some marketing plan that was drawn up in Los Angeles or Minneapolis or New York. It's homegrown. So I say it deserves our support. And whatever the School Committee decides will be all right with me and with Greg and with Maura—but only if it's all right with Mrs. Davenport, too. Because we're all in this together.”

Mr. Z sat down, and Mrs. Davenport said, “I want to thank Mr. Zenotopoulous for that offer to work together on this, and I accept it. And we'll
wait to hear the decision of the committee.”

As Mrs. Davenport stood and walked toward her seat, Maura got up and headed for the back of the room. Greg started to follow, but then he stopped. He turned and faced the committee again.

“Could I say something else?” he asked.

The chairperson nodded at him, and Greg went to the microphone. He didn't know exactly what he wanted to say. But he was sure of one thing, so that's what he said first. He gulped and said, “If it's okay, I think I want to sort of change my idea.” Greg felt the whole room get very quiet.

The woman squinted and looked over the top of her glasses at him. “You mean the comic-book club? Change it? Now?”

Greg gulped again and said, “Yeah . . . I mean, yes. Because what Mrs. Davenport said is right. It's not fair if Maura and I get special permission to sell our comic books, but then other kids can't sell things they try to make.”

A man at the front table said, “So what are you proposing?”

Greg said, “Well . . . I think . . . really . . . there ought to be a way . . . like, if we . . .”

Greg heard himself sputtering and stalling, saying nothing. And he knew why. He didn't really
have
a new idea. But he felt like something needed to change. And he knew it was now or never.

From behind him a voice said, “I think Greg's trying to say that the school store could be the answer.” Greg turned around, and it was Mr. Z.

Greg nodded slowly, and then whipped back to face the School Committee. Excited now, he said, “Yeah. That's right. Exactly. It's the school store.” And making it up as he went along, Greg said, “Because we already have it. A store. At school. In the cafeteria. Except . . . instead of just school supplies, we can sell our comics there. And . . . and other kids could sell things there too. Because lots of kids have good ideas. And the store can be like a business. A real business. Except . . . any kids who sell stuff at the store have to give . . . fifty percent. Fifty percent of all their profits has to go to something that helps the whole school. Because that way, it'll be half for profit, and half for learning. And . . . and that's my new idea. If it's okay.”

Then Greg stood up, turned around, and headed for his seat. As he walked past the principal, he glanced at her face. She was smiling, and he smiled back. And she said, “Just a moment, Greg.” She bent over, picked up a small cardboard box, and held it out to him—the old comic books. “I won't be needing these anymore.”

Greg blushed, and started to say something back, but the chairperson was calling for the next speaker. Greg gave the principal an awkward smile, took the box, and hurried back to his chair.

As Mrs. Davenport sat down she couldn't help thinking,
He's really a remarkable boy—I'm proud of him.

And as Greg sat down with the box of comics on his lap, he couldn't help thinking,
Thirteen
billion
dollars!

 

 

 

The School Committee meeting lasted another fifteen minutes. When it was over, the Kentons and the Shaws and Mr. Z walked out into the parking lot together, and Mrs. Shaw said, “How about we all go over to the Route Twenty-five Diner and celebrate with some ice cream—our treat.”

Mr. Z stopped beside his car and took out his keys. “Thanks, but I have to get home.”

“But the rest of us can still go, right?” said Greg.

His dad said, “Well, if Mr. Zenotopoulous can't come, then I think we'd better not.” He reached out to shake Mr. Z's hand. “You did a great job in there.”

Mr. Z smiled and shook his head, pushing the praise aside. Nodding at Greg and Maura, he said, “The congratulations belong to these two. And I really like what Greg said about the
school store idea. I think the committee did too, but there's still Mrs. Davenport.”

Maura said, “But you heard her—she likes comics now.” Pointing at the box in Greg's hands, she said, “And taking those to her house?
That
was genius!”

Greg smiled and said, “Yeah, but—”

Maura cut him off. “No, really, that was a
great
idea, because if she hadn't read them, and if she'd just stood up and screamed and shouted about how awful comic books are—”

Greg shook his head and said, “Sure, but—”

“I'm serious,” Maura said. “That was
the
best idea—except for when you said you'd give half our profits to the school. So I say we should still go and get ice cream, and Greg gets to pick anything he wants, even a double banana split, because he—”

Almost shouting, Greg said, “Would you just
be quiet
a second?”

Mr. Z popped open the back of his car. “Greg's trying to tell you that those comics aren't his.” He took the box from Greg and put it in his trunk. “I drove over to my mom's home after school yesterday, and I hunted around up in the attic until I found my old
comics—two big boxes. Then on my way home I decided to make a special delivery. And I was pretty sure Mrs. Davenport would like my taste in comic books—because there's no
b-l-o-o-d.
” He slammed the trunk lid and then smiled at the group. “But no telling, okay? Mrs. Davenport thinks I'm crazy enough already.”

***

Three days later when the School Committee vote was announced, no one was surprised that permission had been granted to Greg Kenton and Maura Shaw to begin selling Chunky Comics at a newly reorganized Ashworth school store—provided that Mrs. Davenport agreed to all the details.

And after some spirited negotiations in the principal's office, no one was surprised that a workable business plan for the store was developed, and a trial period of two months was agreed to. Mrs. Davenport even agreed to be a member of the product approval committee.

Mr. Z helped set up an accounting system for the school store, and Greg and Maura opened a joint savings account at the bank under the name Chunky Comics Group.

Greg and Maura made good on their promise to hold after-school workshops about how to make minicomics and mini–picture books. And soon they had to take on the additional challenge of being editors—choosing which stories and art to accept, and which to reject. Plus they spent time after school helping to get the new school store set up in a semipermanent location in one corner of the cafeteria.

It wasn't always fun, and there was a lot of hard work, but soon the milestones began to drop into place:

 

•By mid-October the restructured school store had a grand opening. To start, there was a literature section, an arts-and-crafts section, a used-CD section, a collectibles section, plus the regular school supplies. Chunky Comics were sold from a rack built by Greg and painted by Maura.

•Twelve new product ideas for the school store were presented to the product approval committee during the first month of operation. Five were accepted.

•By mid-November, the three elementary schools in town, the junior high, and the high school had all restructured their school stores
or started new ones based on the business model pioneered at Ashworth Intermediate School. The Chunky Comics rack was a popular feature at each of the new locations.

•The November sales of Chunky Comics were huge: 436 copies of
Return of the Hunter,
and 424 copies of
The Lost Unicorn.
The production crew had to work afternoons, nights, and one full weekend to keep up with the demand.

•Near the end of November the Chunky Comics Group used some of its early profits to purchase an electric stapler and a good paper cutter to improve the speed and quality of their binding and trimming operations.

•In December the Chunky Comics rack offered three new minicomics, plus the original two. Two of the new titles were by Greg and Maura:
Creon: The Strong Survived
and
The Princess's Nightmare.
The third was a science-fiction comic written by Ted Kendall, drawn by Maura, and inked by Greg. It was called
The Trumpets of Mars.

•In December, Maura began working on a new volume of minicomics about a girl detective
computer genius named Haxy Spectrum. The first two issues were a huge hit, and those led to four more Haxy titles through the school year.

•Over the Christmas holidays Greg and Maura got some help from another sixth-grade friend and launched a simple Web site ChunkyComics.com—to tell the story of the business and also to collect e-mail addresses for an Internet version of the Chunky Comics Club.

•In January, Chunky Comics also issued a nonfiction minicomic called
Pythagoras and the Golden Section,
written by Anthony Zenotopoulous, drawn by Maura Shaw, and inked by Greg Kenton. It was not one of the big sellers.

•By February, ChunkyComics.com was attracting more than 1,100 visitors each week.

•By April the Chunky Comics Club monthly e-mail newsletter was going out to more than 2,300 subscribers, and the first Internet orders were shipped. Sales of Chunky Comics at the school stores in town remained strong.