ATOP Chapter Sixty-Nine

"As I went down to my grandfather's farm, a billy goat chased me around the barn," the words were chanted in a sing-song rhythm, pigtails and hair ribbons flying as the fifth grade girls took turns jumping rope. Shonie stood watching, a silent figure in pale pink as she leaned against a towering oak tree, her wide eyes wistful. Two girls were swinging the rope while Janie, a popular little brunette in a green dress, went on jumping breathlessly. 

"It chased me up a sycamore tree," the rhyme continued. "And this is what it said to me: I like coffee, I like tea, I like Marissa to jump with me!"

Marissa accordingly joined, and the rhyme started over again. Shonie smiled a little, hoping she appeared friendly. But she really wasn't even sure if the other girls had so much as noticed her standing there. It had been this way since the very first day of school... since they had all realized she couldn't talk. They simply ignored her. It was lovely in class when she could sit and listen and learn, and she adored her teacher with all her heart, but recess times hurt her heart. It felt like not existing. She was like a little shadow that drifted here and there in the background, always wanting to be a part of the games going on, but never being asked to join.

"I like coffee, I like tea," Marissa was chanting. "I like Rishona to jump with me!"

There was a long moment of silence. Upon hearing her name, Shonie's head snapped up, her eyes widening. She simply stood there, staring at the girl as if she hadn't understood. Marissa cried out again, louder this time, "I like Rishona to jump with me!"

More silence. Some of the girls giggled. Janie leaned over and whispered loudly to Betsy, who called out, "What'sa matter, Rishona? You can't hear either?" 

They giggled again. Shonie's face burned, but she lifted her little chin bravely and marched over to the circle of girls, pasting a wider smile on her lips. Let them see how well she could jump rope, and that was all she needed. After that, they'd all want her in their games. Happy dreams raced across her mind. She could have hugged Marissa for calling her out. She positioned herself beside the other girl, ready to jump... they turned the rope once... and then stopped.

"Doesn't work this way," Janie said smugly. "You have to say the rhyme, or else you can't jump. C'mon, you can do it. Just try!"

And Rishona did try. Desperately. She moved her lips, but no sound came out. Her brow furrowed, tiny fists clenched at her sides as she tried again. She managed something of an odd squeak, but nothing remotely resembling coherent speech. It had been this way a thousand times before. 

They were laughing now, loud and raucous laughter. "Fine then, don't play," Janie cried out, shoving Shonie away from the rope. Marissa was jumping again, calling out a new rhyme.

"Order in the court room, monkey wants to speak! Speak, monkey, speak! Shonie can't speak, she's the monkey of the week!"

Shonie took a few stunned steps backward, stopping when she bumped into the tree. Her eyes filled with tears as the realization that they were making fun of her hit home. She wanted to turn and run, all the way home, but she was rooted to the spot. The chant had caught the attention of the rest of the playground, and more kids were joining in...

"Shonie can't speak, she's the monkey of the week! Shonie can't speak, she's the monkey of the week!" Over and over and over they yelled it, laughing as she shrank back. She blinked hard, determined not to let them see her cry.

The middle school students had different recess time than the elementary students. Very rarely were students from the different grades together during the school day. Which is why the taunters never dreamed that a middle schooler would interfere with their bullying. But the seventh grade social studies classroom faced the playground, and Jesse Craig's desk was right by the window. He had happened to look up in the middle of a pop quiz on the War of 1812, taken in the whole scene at a glance, and without even asking permission, he was out of his seat, and out of the classroom.

Shonie stood alone, facing the shrieking crowd of her peers, when she felt a hand laid reassuringly on her shoulder. She glanced up, startled, to catch a glimpse of sympathetic brown eyes, recognizing the boy who had given her flowers earlier in the summer. Sudden relief and gratitude flooded her little being as he nodded at her, gently tugging on her arm so she was half-hidden behind him. 

"Alright, what's the matter with the lot of you?" he snapped at the younger children who had faltered in their chanting, confused. "You sound like a flock of parrots. Don't you have anything better to do than stand around and say the same silly words over and over?" Most of the students ran off at that, but a few stubbornly remained. Jesse drew himself up to his full height and glared ferociously at them. He was quiet by nature, but he was angry. "Listen, you pick on this girl again, and you answer to me, okay? She's under my protection, so just you leave her alone." He stepped forward, taking the jump rope from Marissa's hand. "I'll just stop and see your mother on the way home from school, I think," he added and Marissa stuck her tongue out at him, but she was pale as chalk. She knew he would do it. Jesse was her cousin, and more likely to carry out his threat because of that close relation.

"Hey... are you okay?" Jesse added softly as he turned to see Shonie, who was still cowering behind him, her head bent low. She nodded and sniffed a little, not daring to look up. He pulled a large red bandanna from his pocket and held it out to her, awkwardly. "Mom always makes me carry an extra one," he explained as she took it tentatively. "I gotta get back to class, I'll be in awful trouble, but hey," he nodded at the classroom window. "I'm always in there during your recess time. They do something like that again, just knock on that window, I'll make sure you're okay."

She wanted to thank him, but she didn't know how, so she simply nodded again. He smiled before turning to run back inside. She waited until he was gone, and then turned and slipped away. Nobody saw her go. She walked quickly, and she didn't stop until she found herself at home again.

Ronnie was crossing the barnyard when the forlorn little figure came trudging wearily up the lane, the red bandanna clutched tightly in her hands and her head drooping. Instantly alarmed, he called out her name and she stood still, suddenly almost afraid. Maybe she would be in trouble for leaving school early. 

"Shonie! What... what happened?" he hurried to her side, squatting down to her level. "What's wrong?" 

The tears she had held back so valiantly started to fall then, sliding down her cheeks one after another. She opened her mouth, a whimper coming out, and then she shook her head.

"Are you hurt?" Ronnie looked her over carefully, his eyes worried. She shook her head again. "Did something happen at school?" and she nodded. "Does your teacher know you left?" She signaled no. Ronnie's brow furrowed and he bit the corner of his lip, not sure what else to ask or what on earth could be wrong. He supposed he could call the school or maybe ask Shonie to write it out... but while his mind wandered, she drooped lower, choking back a sob, and the sound broke his heart.

"Hey... hey, don't cry," he murmured, gathering her close. She clutched at his shirt with both hands, hid her face against his shoulder, and cried harder than she had in a long, long time. He held her for a while, letting her cry, and then stood up slowly, lifting her with him, and carried her into the house for Rachel. She would know better what to do.

oOo

After a few phone calls, the story came out, triggering chaos in the Stewart household that evening. Rebekah found out at school and came home boiling mad, Mickey trailing after her in fear and trembling. She had already snapped at him in the schoolyard and he knew he was risking worse, but he went all the way home with her and braved the storm.

Rebekah had her rage out, and once her temper had cooled, she plunked herself down at the kitchen table with a sigh, spreading algebra papers out in front of her. Mickey followed suit. He let her work in silence for several minutes before he finally dared to speak.

"I have a question for you. A serious one." He stared at Rebekah so solemnly that she wanted to laugh.

"What is it?" she jabbed his elbow with her pencil. 

"How is it that you never write me a letter?"

"Why would I do that?" She looked at him blankly.

"Well... you write to Jakob all the time." He sounded hurt.

"Jakob is in New York," she answered flatly, turning back to her algebra paper. "And besides, you can't read Hebrew."

"And you can't read English," Mickey murmured. "Bekah, please, let me help you." He pushed her algebra book away, leaning over so she was almost forced to look at him. "Listen. I'm not that smart, and we both know it..."

"We do indeed."

"In fact I'm pretty dumb..."

"Agreed."

"Will you cut that out?" Mickey sighed. "I'm trying to say that in spite of that, I'll do my best to help you, and... agh, well, you ruined the effect of my speech. Anyway. Get out that blasted Dickens novel, I'm going to teach you to read."

Rolling her eyes, Rebekah dug through her book bag and pulled out the requested book. It was a thick, dull looking novel with a dusty brown cover embossed with words she knew to say "A Tale of Two Cities". Not a terribly interesting title. The book had been assigned during the first week of school and she had never even once opened it, knowing she would not see Hebrew characters. 

Mickey took the book from her hands and cracked it open rather dramatically. He glanced at her, quirked an eyebrow, and added, "If I succeed in doing this, you must promise me something."

"And that is?"

"You gotta write me a letter," he grinned impishly. 

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, I promise. The very first letter I write in English will be for you. But don't expect it to be anything grand."

"Wouldn't dare risk asking for more. Now let's see... dunno much about all these fancy words myself, but we'll give it our best shot. How about I read out loud, and you follow along?"

"I do not get much choice in this, do I," Rebekah sighed. "Fine. Read."

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," Mickey began, making his best attempt at sounding interesting. "It was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us..." He paused and glanced sideways at Rebekah again. She was staring transfixed at nothing in particular, her eyes shining as if they were glossed over with tears.

That night she scribbled those words down in her diary as best as she could remember them... the spring of hope, the winter of despair... everything before us... nothing before us...

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