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Richie had the reputation of being a troublemaker, so she didn’t want to stare at him and risk invoking his nastier side. Instead she glanced at the window and watched his reflection. She could see him making spitballs and then lining them up on the edge of his desk, close to the student in front of him, blocking his handiwork from the teacher’s view. When their teacher, Miss Bender, began writing math problems on the blackboard, Richie popped a spitball into the end of his straw, aimed, and fired at the back of Jenny Lennon’s head. Richie watched as Jenny reached around to feel her hair, but the spitball bounced to the floor. Richie’s face was turning red as he valiantly tried to stifle a laugh. Instead he snorted, causing everyone’s head to turn in his direction. He feigned a cough. A few shrugs, and it was all eyes back on the blackboard.
Miss Bender asked if he was okay. He nodded with his fist against his mouth, trying desperately not to let snot shoot out of his nose. As the class settled down, Miss Bender reviewed the basic math problems. “Any questions?” If someone did voice a question, everyone else in the class would moan, so there weren’t any most of the time.
Once again, the teacher pivoted toward the blackboard. Once again, Richie aimed and fired. And once again, Jenny scratched the back of her head. Richie was about to explode with his own amusement. He waited until the next opportunity and blasted another spitball, this time hard enough that Jenny whimpered. With that, Melanie got up from her seat, leaned toward Richie, and yanked the straw out of his hand. Then she brushed the two remaining balls onto his lap with her sleeve, marched to the front of the classroom, tied the straw into a knot, and dropped it in the wastebasket. As the little drama unfolded, Miss Bender watched with her mouth agape.
“What’s this all about?” she queried.
“Pardon, Miss Bender.” She pointed to the artillery in the trash bin. “I found it on the floor and didn’t want anyone to trip over it.” Trip over a straw? It was the best she could come up with. She brushed her hands together as if she was sweeping off some dust. As Melanie returned to her seat, her eyes burned a hole in Richie’s face. Even though he towered above her by several inches and outweighed her by fifty pounds, Richie Burke was convinced never to cross Melanie Drake. Ever.
As time went on, Melanie got the reputation of having the ability to chew a person up with just one look, but for some odd reason, most people responded by asking if she wanted dessert. It was part of her charm, although charming didn’t necessarily describe her as a kid. It was something she nurtured and developed and used when necessary.
Due to her accident, her sports activities were limited that school year, so she spent most of the time carefully watching her schoolmates play softball and soccer. Having the rules etched in her memory, she was fascinated to see how often someone would try to cheat. Even just a little. She would wait until she could catch the transgressor’s eye and then give them one of her stare-downs. She was intrigued to discover she could stop someone from cheating with just one look. Over time, that particular skill would become one of her best personal weapons.
The rest of the fall season was chock-full of eye-popping news. Bill Clinton beat George H.W. Bush in the presidential election, and Sinéad O’Connor ripped up a photo of Pope John Paul II on live television. The world seemed to be growing less predictable. But on a brighter note for Melanie and her friends, the Cartoon Network was launched, so she was able to watch Looney Tunes more often. Melanie wasn’t known for telling jokes or funny stories, but something goofy could make her laugh out loud. She couldn’t decide which rivals were her favorite: Wile E. Coyote vs. Road Runner, or Daffy vs. Bugs. She appreciated Bugs’s attitude. No one was going to best him. She liked that about him and the twisted way he got his justice. She would put that in her mental tool kit.
Young Melanie was intrigued by the notion of opposing forces, and 1993 brought more of them to the forefront. It seemed as if the world was listing. Out of balance. Bombings were occurring right here in the United States. Six people were killed and over a thousand injured at the World Trade Center. Then there was the horrific siege at Waco, Texas. When three eight-year-olds were murdered in West Memphis, Melanie thought her childhood was over at the ripe age of nine. Times were changing more quickly than ever, thanks to technology. Over ten million mobile phones were sold internationally. Things were beginning to move fast and not necessarily in the right direction.
Chapter Three
Mr. Leonard
The summer between third and fourth grade was less dramatic than the school year and surely much better than the summer before. Melanie was able to spend time outside and took on swimming as her summer sport, along with reading more complicated novels. Her voracious appetite for books brought her reading to a sixth-grade level.
By the fifth grade, Melanie was reading at a seventh-grade level. She had already ripped through the pages of all the books required by her English teacher that year. There wasn’t a question he could ask that she didn’t know the answer to, but she refrained from monopolizing the class. Just as she wasn’t a tattletale, she also wasn’t a show-off, but she was bored. During a reading lesson, she tried to stifle her yawning, and at one point, she caught herself nodding off. Her teacher, Mr. Leonard, was not known for being particularly kind. He always seemed to be mad about something. He approached Melanie’s desk and slammed a yardstick down so hard, it broke into pieces. Melanie jumped from her seat as the rest of the class gasped.
“Am I keeping you awake, Miss Drake?” he snarled.
Melanie sat up tall, blinked, and answered. “No sir.”
“Then would you like to tell the class about Treasure Island?”
Melanie stood up and began, “Treasure Island was written by Robert Louis Stevenson in 1881. Some of his other books include A Child’s Garden of Verses, and the creepy Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.” She paused and scanned her audience. She wasn’t aware that “reading the room” was a thing. For her, it was intuitive. Her classmates were wide-eyed and at the edge of their seats. None of them wanted a yardstick smashed in front of them.
Melanie shared the synopsis of the book, outlining the story of a young boy named Jim Hawkins whose family owned an inn. An old sea captain, named Billy Bones, was one of the residents, but he died, leaving behind a mysterious chest. Melanie’s description of the plot was animated as she proceeded to describe the treasure map, the pirates, the mutiny, and the rescue. When Melanie thought she’d given Mr. Leonard enough to thwart his attempt at embarrassing her, she took a slight bow and sat back in her seat. The class was mesmerized and clapped with enthusiasm. Mr. Leonard was red-faced. “You have your mother call me,” he demanded.
“Okey dokey,” she replied calmly.
“What did you say?” he roared. She swore she saw steam coming out of his ears.
“Yes, sir,” she corrected herself. When he turned around, she gave her fellow classmates one of her classic eye rolls. Kids were biting their lips trying not to laugh. No one wanted to send Mr. Leonard on another bashing spree. Melanie craned her neck to see if there were any more yardsticks. Nope. Just a pointer. One more weapon left. She wondered if the janitor noticed all the missing rulers. She recalled at least five other occasions when Mr. Leonard had destroyed school property. Why didn’t anyone say anything? She thought about the conversation she was going to have with her mother. Perhaps that would put an end to his tyrannical behavior. Either that, or she would be grounded. She knew she would have to choose her words carefully and not sound like a whiny schoolkid.
That evening during dinner, everyone had their turn discussing the events of the day. Her parents owned a real estate agency in Harrison, just an hour southwest of Washington DC. With the influx of politicians and lobbyists, her parents were a very busy couple. Her mother discussed showing one of the McMansions, and her father bemoaned his paperwork. Melanie waited for her brother Justin to boast about his basketball scores before she dropped the Mr. Leonard bomb on her mother.
“Mel? And how was your day?” her father asked with his fork in midair.
She took a big breath. “Well . . . you remember I told you that Mr. Leonard has a bad temper?”
Both parents nodded. They knew kids had active imaginations, although Melanie wasn’t prone to exaggerating. “Today he was talking about Treasure Island.”
“You read that last summer,” her mother said with confidence and a smile.
“Yes, so I was bored.” Melanie made a grimace. “I guess my eyes were closed, and Mr. Leonard broke a yardstick over my desk.” She was very matter-of-fact.
Her father plunked his fork on his plate. “He did what? A yardstick?”
Melanie frowned and nodded. “Yep. I mean, yes.”
“Oh my goodness! What happened? Did anyone get hurt?” The smile left her mother’s face instantaneously, and she placed her hand on Melanie’s arm.
