Written for the Newsies Pape Selling Competition. My task was writing about Les and Race in Elementary school, using prompts English and Prideful. WC: 1,645
"Do I hafta go to school?"
"Les, we promised dad that after his arm got better we would go back." David reminded him.
Les dragged his feet. "I know…it's just so boring and stupid!"
"Ay! Watch your mouth!" Race piped up from leaning against the far wall of the Jacobs' living room. Racetrack had volunteered to accompany the brothers to their respective schools on the first day. It would be the first year that they would be going to different schools. David missed his freshmen year while he was a newsie, and the school they went to before together was K-8. David wanted one of their newsies to walk Les to his own school, since David had to go the opposite way to his high school.
Les laughed and a big grin spread over his face. "I didn't say nothing bad! It ain't anything like you say!"
David's head whipped around to glare at Race, who nervously laughed. "What did you say to him?"
"I didn't say nothing to him, he musta just overheard something!" Race pressed himself against the wall to protect himself from Dave's wrath.
His eyes narrowed as he took a step closer to Race. "And if the bad grammar rubbing off on Les wasn't bad enough,-"
David didn't get a chance to finish his thought, for Mrs. Jacobs bustled into the room with three paper bags. "For each of you for school today," She said and handed each boy a lunch.
"Thank you, but I'm not going to school, I'm just walking Les there."
"Oh, that's alright. Think of it as a thank-you." Esther pulled in Race for a hug. "Oh, look, you'll be late! You three have better get going!" She gave the brothers each a hug and shooed them out the door.
The three walked together for about two blocks, and David went his separate way, while Race and Les went the other way.
"Why don't you go to school, Racetrack?" Les squinted from the rising sun.
Race chuckled. "Being a newsie is a full-time job. I don't have time to be stuck in dere all day. I would if it was only an hour or so, but there's papes to be sold! 'S too late when you get out." He put his hands in his pockets and looked out ahead.
"You've never gone to school?"
"Course I've gone! It's been a long time. I went before my dad left me. I stopped when I was about 9 or 10. I don't remember. Just didn't come back. It was the middle of the week, I had a project due that was never finished, I just stopped seeing the point anymore."
Les reached over and grabbed Race's hand. "That's okay. It musta been hard."
Race grinned. "Yeah, but I'm alright now, ain't I? I know other stuff."
They made it to the grounds a few minutes later. The 5 minute warning bell rang when they got towards the door. "I'll be here at three. Don't leave unless me or another newsies you know is here, alright?"
Les nodded and gave Race a giant hug. Les' head was Race's chest height.
A few teachers came bustling out, hurrying all the students inside.
Suddenly, Racetrack felt a firm hand on his shoulder blade, pushing him inside. "In, in in! You're going to be late!"
"But I'm not a student, no!"
"Excuses, excuses, dear. It's normal to be nervous the first day at your new school."
"I don't go here! I'm too old to go here!" Race had been pushed into the main foyer.
"We go until 8th grade here, you're fine."
"I'm not in 8th grade, I'm 17!" Les was cracking up off to the side. All the other teachers and students in the hallway had stopped what they were doing and were watching them. He finally struggled free. He stopped and looked around at the complete silence.
The teacher pulled out a half-sheet of paper and read it. "Anthony Higgins?"
Race looked at her wide-eyed. "I haven't gone by that in years."
"You were registered yesterday. I know see here that you are shadowing one of students for the day. Something about a newspaper article or something." She folded up the paper and put it back in her pocket. "Les?" She turned towards Les, who quickly tried to contain his laughter.
"Yes, ma'am?"
"You will be showing Anthony around today. Here is your schedule, just take him with you."
"Yes, ma'am." He took the schedule as the tardy bell rang at 9 o'clock.
The woman shooed them off. "You're late! Go!"
It was then just Race and Les. "Was this your idea?"
Les shook his head, still laughing. "No, but it is kinda funny!"
"Ugh! I can't believe she thought I was almost your age!" He groaned. "I am not that short." He muttered to himself and shoved his hands in his pockets.
Les opened the schedule to see where they had to go. Race could see that there were four classes a day. "English is first, and then we have lunch and recess, then Math, then Geography, and then PE! This way!"
Race could only linger and groan for a second before Les dashed ahead and pulled him along. "Why do we got to go to English. Wese already know dat!"
"Because there is a difference between speaking it and speaking it well." Les said with an air of David-like-pride.
The older boy grumbled the rest of the way to the classroom.
They stopped in front of a door with the plaque reading "Mr. Evans: English Language and Literature" Race thought to himself as Les opened the door that he didn't know half of those words on the plaque, and maybe that this school thing might help.
"Mr. Jacobs, kind of you to join us. And who is this that you brought along?" The man at the front of the classroom, Mr. Evans, spoke with a slightly snobby tone. He was fairly tall, even though he was leaning on his desk. He had short light brown hair and big eyes.
"Sorry, Mr. Evans. This is Ra-Anthony, Mr. Evans, he's shadowing me today, sir." Les looked at the floor between his and the teacher's feet. Race tried to look pleasant at him, but so far it was tough to do.
"Sit down." He turned his attention away from them as they found two empty desks that were close to each other. "As I was saying, this first quarter we will be focusing on English grammar and how it fits together to make fine literature. We will then be reading different fiction next quarter. By third quarter, we will have gained enough knowledge to begin writing our own. That assignment will carry on throughout the end of the year."
All the other students had their chins on their palms, looking but not seeing, hearing but not listening to Mr. Evans. Expect Race, who was appalled. What happened to kids being kids? How many 11 year olds are supposed to write a freaking piece of literature, or even know what that is? He thought that they were supposed to read stories as class, and write about their dogs, or something.
"Do you have anything to say, Mr…?" He was looking right at Race.
"Higgins. And no, sir."
He smiled. "Good." Then, louder, "Now, I am handing out a worksheet. This is to be completed by yourself in TOTAL silence. You need your brain, not your neighbor's brain. You may begin when you get it."
It only took a minute for the stack to get to Racetrack. He took on and passed it onto Les. He patted his pockets until he found the pencil he always took to the tracks to write down bets on. He looked at the paper and almost choked. The whole left half of the front and back of the paper was an expert from some book, while the right was filled with analysis questions about the passage.
Everyone else was working diligently to finish, but Racetrack was writing really smart remarks about the book and the questions. He had no desire to stay.
"Alright. You should be finished. Pass them forward. Racetrack gave a small laugh and handed his forward.
"Mr. Higgins," He slowly hissed as he looked at his paper.
"Yes. Sir?" Race jovially replied.
"I don't think you understood this assignment. My first question was "How was this book first written?" your answer was, "in pen" The whole class tried not to laugh. Mr. Evans' eyes narrowed. "Another question was "Why did the author write this book?" You said, "because he needed to pay the bills" The entire class burst into laughter, including Les, who was trying to keep it together.
Race smiled pleasantly up at him. "Is there a problem? Am I wrong? Sir?"
"I don't know why you're really here, but I want you out of my classroom, and never come back!" He pointed at the door.
"Gladly." All the friendliness in Racetrack's face was gone. He stiffly stood up and strode to the door. He turned to look at Les. "See you at three. Make me proud." He opened the door with a wink. There was a yell of frustration as Race bolted down the hall and onto the street, being pursued out the door by a janitor. Yelling at him for leaving marks on his floor. He quickly gave up the chase.
He didn't slow down for five minutes, making sure he was completely clear of that place. Race headed for distribution, it wasn't too late to grab a few papes to make enough money for a coffee.
He thought about the way the boy's would react. He also wanted to ask David if signing him up for school was his idea of a joke.
Wouldn't this be a tale for the books!
Thanks for reading! I took the PSAT on Wednesday :P so I was kinda in that reading mood I guess.