Mr. Terupt Falls Again (18 page)

“Oh, no thank you.” She sighed. “If I only knew where Mr. Terupt grew up then I could research his past and find more answers.”

“We’re supposed to be writing obituaries for Lincoln and Jackson,” I reminded her.

“Yes, I know,” she said. “I thought I could locate his parents’ obituaries, but I need to know where they lived.”

“I know where he grew up,” I said.

Jessica looked at me now, her eyes big and wide. “You do?”

I nodded. “The answer’s written on the inside cover of
Belle Prater’s Boy
. I saw it when I was moving his books this summer.”

“Did you read that one?” Jessica asked.

I nodded again.

“I liked that book,” Jessica said. “A boy searching for his disappearing mama, wondering where she could have gone and what possibly could have happened to her. It’s natural to wonder … and want some answers.”

Jessica got up and walked over to the bookshelf. She pulled out
Belle Prater’s Boy
and opened it. She smiled.

It’s natural to wonder and want some answers
. Did Jessica say that to make herself feel better about researching Mr. Terupt, or was she trying to tell me it was okay
for me
to go after answers about my dad? Maybe you could go after answers if you were prepared for whatever the truth might be. Maybe that was why Mom hadn’t ever told me about my dad. She didn’t think I was ready. If I asked her, she’d let me know if I was ready or not. It was beginning to feel like time.

F
ADE IN: We see JESSICA sitting at the classroom computer. ANNA is standing by her side, leaning over and reading the screen with JESSICA
.

JESSICA and ANNA lean closer to the computer. CU of the screen
.

TRAGIC CAR ACCIDENT LEAVES STAR WRESTLER
WITH NO PARENTS
By Faith Rikert
March 26

CUT TO: JESSICA turns her head to look back at ANNA, and finds MR. TERUPT standing behind them. Neither girl knows how long he’s been there
.

JESSICA quickly closes out the computer screen
.

MR. TERUPT nods
.

JESSICA and ANNA remain quiet. They don’t know what to say
.

FADE OUT
.

P
art of me couldn’t believe we spent the morning worrying about a funeral for those stupid green lizards. I was like, I’m not going to miss them. But the boys were, and some of the girls. So I think Teach decided to make a big deal out of it to help everyone feel better.

It was actually fun. Peter and Jeffrey made a casket out of a tissue box that they covered in craft sticks and decorated. And after digging a hole beneath a tree near our classroom, Luke put Lincoln and Jackson in their coffin. I couldn’t believe he touched those things! Then we walked outside in silence, Danielle acting as our pallbearer, which means she was the one to carry the casket. She slowly lowered the casket into the ground. Then we formed two lines, one on each side of the burial site, and we took turns reading our obituaries.

“Lincoln was a leader, like our sixteenth president of the United States of America,” Jessica read. “He wasn’t afraid to explore new territory in the tank and he hid from no one. Instead he stayed out in the open, where he could see all of us—boy faces and girl faces, young faces and old faces, pretty faces and ugly faces—”

“Peter,” I said. I couldn’t resist.

“Ha-ha-ha,” he said.

There were a lot of smiles around the grave. It felt good to lighten the mood.

Jessica continued, “Like Abraham Lincoln, our anole Lincoln will be remembered for bringing people together. May he rest in peace.” She paused, then read her speech about Jackson.

“Never was there a better friend than Jackson,” Jessica began. “Much like the way our seventh president of the United States, Andrew Jackson, who looked out for his friends with what became known as the spoils system, Sir Lizard Jackson was always looking out for his friend, Lincoln. President Jackson took care of his friends by giving them jobs, hence spoiling them. Sir Lizard Jackson took care of Lincoln by sharing food with him. One of the best memories we’ll keep is the day we watched them share a cricket for lunch. Lincoln had the cricket’s head in his mouth, and Jackson had the rear end in his mouth. They each pulled at the same time, ripping their lunch in half.”

“Eww!” I said.

The boys laughed, including Teach. I couldn’t help it. Those lizards were disgusting. We finished with a quick
moment of silence and then went back into the classroom, everyone smiling—even Luke.

So like, I had no issue with Teach taking time to make Luke and Jeffrey feel better about those gross creatures, ’cause he had done something unbelievable for me, too. No, I’m not talking about getting me from the hangout or helping me get hooked up with the restaurant. I’m actually talking about the book he gave me. I really got that connections thing with
Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret
. It was written by some woman named Judy Blume. I read it twice in one weekend. And I’m reading it again!

What is it that Margaret wants? Her period and boobs! How could I not relate to that? I totally understand what it feels like to want those things. Okay, maybe Margaret’s a bit clueless, and she has this big religion problem going on, which reminded me more of Danielle, but she also stuffs her bra! With cotton balls! I wanted to tell Margaret that toilet paper worked better. I also wished I could tell her how to kiss. How could she know so much about menstruation but not know how to kiss a boy? That wasn’t going to be me! When my time came, I was going to know how to do it. And there’s this bigger, more developed girl in the story named Laura, and that’s who Margaret wishes she could be. That made me think of Lisa. I was just like Margaret.

I wanted to be like Lisa. I wanted to be Danielle. I wanted my period. I wanted to be Anna, who at least had a boy who liked her. I had worked with Peter to start adding music to Jeffrey and Jessica’s movie, and when we started going through the video I noticed that Jeffrey’s camera seemed to like Anna the most.

At least our next exchange was coming. I knew how to get the attention of those boys. Things turned out okay for Margaret in the end of her story, so like, that made me brave enough to try again. I was predicting things would turn out okay for me, since I was like Margaret. I hoped.

A
fter the funeral service we had a class meeting.

“This is another one of those meetings where I need to do most of the talking,” Mr. Terupt said. “Jessica and Anna found an article about my parents while researching obituaries, and so I think it’s time I tell all of you about that part of my life. I thought I’d start by sharing one of my favorite connections,” he went on. “It comes from Katherine Paterson’s book
Bridge to Terabithia
. Just listen to this part about Jesse.”

Mr. Terupt read a few sentences aloud.
“He wanted to be the best. Not one of the best. Not second best. But the very best.”
He closed the book and looked at us.

“That’s how wrestling was for me. My goal was to be the very best, like Jesse, so I woke up extra early every morning to train. My parents saw my sacrifice and commitment and became my biggest fans. My extreme dedication and tireless
pursuit of my goal took me to the state championships my senior year of high school. It was the culmination of all my hard work and I wanted my parents there for it. But there was concern about a possible winter storm that weekend and my parents were debating whether to attend.
You can’t miss this one
, I told them. I wanted them to see me win.”

Mr. Terupt stopped. Physically, he was sitting right in front of us, but I could tell that mentally, he had gone back in time. We stayed quiet. It reminded me of church, when the minister talked about what he had read from the Bible and a serious quiet followed. There was a serious quiet in our classroom now. This was a reading from Mr. Terupt’s Book of Life.

“My parents saw me win, but I never saw them again after that,” Mr. Terupt continued. “We were walloped by a blizzard that night. One that brought whiteout conditions and fierce winds. Mom and Dad were killed in a car accident on their way home from the tournament.”

Mr. Terupt’s eyes were moist, but he kept going.

“Fortunately, I was headed to college, which was the best place for me. Wrestling saved my life. The challenge it provided kept me going when I could have easily given up. I have no brothers or sisters, or any other extended family, so I was alone after my parents died. You saw that last year at the hospital. But now I have all of you. Sometimes answers come at unexpected times, in unexpected ways and unexpected places. I never wanted to love again after losing my parents, because losing them hurt too much, but you’ve helped me change. And you’ve helped me do something
even more difficult than that. Because of all of you, I’ve been able to forgive myself for what happened.”