The Avocadonine and Spring Stone
An hour and twenty minutes before Christy got up the courage to call Rey, Rey was opening the doors to The Pemota Gazette. He walked towards his mother’s cubicle delighted by the three familiar people who waved hello to him happily. When he arrived at Isabel’s cubicle, noticing the new photos she had with Claudette Laurie, who was the new principal at the high school, Isabel turned to him, and said, “Read this.”
“Mom, I need a ride home,” Rey said, as she handed him a ten page computer print-out.
“Well, you need to wait.”
Rey took the article from her and walked away glumly, to sit in the foyer and read Isabel’s article. It was entitled “Changing Overseers.” It was about the new administration at the high school. The administration was headed by Claudette Laurie, and Isabel’s article was the first public relations attempt by the administration since Claudette Laurie’s speech during the second school day of the year.
The past administration had left behind a legacy of ineptitude. Little contact with the students, and poor performance among the staff resulting in pay cuts across the board for teachers and maintenance meant it was time to dress to impress. Principal Laurie, along with Dean Miss Shumana, and former Dean, Mark Repore, now turned conflict resolutionist, were featured in the article doing their best to look the part. Rey read with curiosity wondering how a switch blade incident might be treated by these three.
As he read about the high school’s tarnished image, and Claudette Laurie’s claim that her past experience as the Dean of Admissions at Leander taught her the rigors necessary to prepare high school students for college life, Rey was distracted by thoughts of Christy. Every couple paragraphs he had to read again as he replayed their conversation walking through the woods. Then something caught his interest. Isabel had obtained a story about some kids who were caught smoking marijuana in the bathroom and the leniency by the administration after the boy’s parents threatened to take the case public. Rey was thinking that if he wanted help fighting Huxley, Der, and Joe, Principal Claudette Laurie would provide little help.
Rey told Isabel the article was good, and Isabel looked him up and down, no doubt, noticing the pine needles. Isabel packed up her stuff while Rey searched his brain for an excuse. On the ride home, Isabel mentioned that she had met Huron Anderson in a woman’s clothes store named Jada’s a week ago.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rey asked.
“I thought you’d worry I said something dumb.” Rey had turned the radio on, and now Isabel turned it off. She had drugs in the woods on her mind.
“What did he say?” Rey asked.
“He was buying a blouse for his mother. He asked me what I thought of it. Nice kid.”
“Except for the clothes?”
Huron wore a lot of jewelry, sagging pants, and sports jerseys. “I didn’t say that.”
They arrived at their garage at Lighthouse Point and walked in silence to their door. Rey was about to retreat to the basement and begin doing his homework but Isabel said, “Speaking of clothes.” She looked him up and down.
Rey began feeling nervous. He searched his brain realizing how guilty he must seem and at the same time knowing he’d done nothing wrong. “Um.”
“Sit with me,” Isabel said.
They walked over to the spruce wood dining table, and Rey looked up at the fan his sister Aisha had broken a few days ago. “I guess you noticed Aisha broke the fan,” Isabel said.
Rey pulled a chair out. “She thinks she can do whatever she wants.”
“Well, Ellie,” Ellie was the nanny, “said that she was tying a shoelace to the on/off cord and that it was an accident.”
“Everything she does can’t be an accident,” Rey said.
“She was sent to bed early. So explain. You were in the woods obviously.”
“We went exploring in the woods.”
“Who?”
“Me and someone named Christy.”
“Christy,” Isabel confirmed. She didn’t believe him.
“Yeah, she missed her bus too, so we went exploring. What’s the big deal?”
“You’re in ninth grade now and things are different. People in your class do drugs I’m sure. Right?”
“Some,” Rey shrugged. “My classes are fine and I’m not doing drugs.”
Isabel sighed. “I’m going to tell you about everything. Soon.”
The birth certificate issue had been woken up when Rey was halfway through seventh grade. He’d spent months wanting to say something but couldn’t bring himself to. One day, during a drive to the dentist Rey blurted out, “You’re not really my Mom are you?” The name on the birth certificate under mother’s maiden name was Adele Naresh.
Isabel explained things. To a degree. She said that she never told him because telling a young child about Adele would be cruel and unusual punishment. She’d wanted to wait until Rey was at an age when he could handle it and understand it – as much as one could she said. According to Isabel, Adele was crazy. There was a planned date when Rey was supposed to find out everything. Rey said that sounded okay and tried to be understanding.
This past summer, Rey had asked Isabel when the date was. Isabel said it was this year – ninth grade – and that she would tell him all he wanted to know.
“When do I know?” Rey now asked.
“Pretty soon,” Isabel said.
“What is it about?” Rey asked.
“Apparently, your name was on some list. Adele was crazy.”
Rey nodded. “Okay,” he said.
The phone rang.
Isabel stood up and walked into the kitchen. She picked up the phone. “Hello.” A pause. “May I ask who’s calling?” Another pause. “Christy Lane?” Isabel smiled feeling relieved. “One second.”
“I told you,” Rey said, taking the phone from her. He hoped she didn’t see his Adam’s apple bob. He covered the receiver and opened the door to the basement. He closed it behind him, making his way to his room, and said, “Hello?”
“Hey Rey,” Christy said moribund.
Isabel called from upstairs. “Rey, I need to go to my class. Aisha is asleep, and Ellie will be here in five minutes.”
“Mom, I’m never going to do drugs,” Rey called to her loudly.
“Okay,” Isabel called.
“My Mom thinks I was in the woods doing drugs,” Rey told Christy. “She’s on her way to a creative writing class.”
“You don’t know do you,” Christy said.
“What? Were they waiting for you?”
“You have my backpack.”
Rey’s heart began to race. He ran upstairs and said, “Wait a sec.” Grabbing the backpack on the dining room table he immediately noticed a purple heart sticker on the side. He carried the backpack downstairs with him. “Do you need it tonight?”
“Well, I mean, I have your Spanish book. So I can use that. What about you?”
Rey had to read the first chapter of The Pearl for tomorrow. He supposed he could do it in study hall. “I’m all set.”
“And I have math homework due. I’m not supposed to be on the phone. My sister and I got in a fight.”
Rey heard the clicking sound of someone picking up a line. “Hello?” It was Radelle.
“Mom, it’s a telemarketer,” Christy said.
“Christy,” Radelle said, angrily.
“My names Rey,” Rey said. “I called because Christy has my backpack and I have hers.”
“And Mom, I need to talk to Annette so I can do my math homework.”
“We’ll talk about this later, Christy.”
Radelle hung up.
“I so hope I’m not grounded.”
“What do you want to do about Huxley?” Rey said.
“Blackmail him maybe,” Christy said.
“How?” Rey asked.
“Huxley gets B’s. Everyone thinks he gets A’s but he gets Der to print him fake report cards.”
“How do they do that?”
“Der’s Mom works at Town Hall and they have the right kind of paper. Annette told me. And Father Muncie thinks Huxley is a golden boy. So there you go.” Annette’s comment that maybe Christy should go out with Rey was weighing heavily on her. She turned an 8-ball upside down and came up with a “yes, definitely.”
“What about college?” Rey asked.
“I don’t think Huxley thinks that far ahead,” Christy said.
“That’s pathetic.”
Christy shrugged. “That’s Huxley.”
“Do you need help with Spanish homework tonight?” Rey asked.
“No. I think I can handle it.”
Rey thought the conversation was about to end. He knew Jet Mead would think that a bad idea. “Don’t tell anyone, but I speak Spanish almost fluently.”
“Fluently?”
“My Mom speaks it and I grew up speaking it so.”
“So how do you say Ms. Carmen, your nostrils are flaring and you smell like Lysol?”
“Senora Carmen sus narizes estan inflamadas y huelen a Lysol.”
“Wow. I can barely remember how to say ‘what day is it?’”
“So I guess we can switch backpacks tomorrow morning,” Rey said.
“Where’s your locker?”
“It’s 52, in the freshman hallway,” Rey said. “I’ll find you.”
“So why does Huxley hate you?”
He told her all about seventh grade, with the exclusion of Aba Brule, thinking it made a great story. When he finished, Christy said, “The only reason Huxley hates me is because he wants to screw my sis.”
“I guess a lot of guys do.”
“Do you think she’s like the hottest girl ever?”
“No,” Rey said. “I don’t think Brianna’s very pretty at all.”
Christy was confused, but decided against questioning further. “What are you doing after school tomorrow?” She didn’t think she had enough guts to ask Rey out, but was intrigued by the possibility.
“Nothing,” Rey said.
“I have to go shopping for a winter jacket. I think we’re going to The Climber.”
“I got one already.”
“What brand is it?”
“Timberland.” Rey thought Huron and James would think the jacket was cool. Timberland was a popular brand choice for African Americans. James had a Timberland jacket himself.
“Trying to join a gang are you?” Christy said.
Rey chuckled. “No. It was the cheapest one in the store.”
Christy nodded, knowing this wasn’t true. Timberland jackets tended to be expensive. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“See you then,” Rey said.
They hung up, both wondering how the other thought the conversation had gone. Rey sat there for a few minutes thinking about what to do about Huxley. Maybe Christy really had a good idea: blackmail him. He glanced over to his book shelf. Looza Avocado Juice bottles were arranged on the shelf, their significance still eluding him.
He heard Ellie upstairs flailing on Aisha. Ellie was telling her to, “Stop it right away, dear. Right away.”
Soon enough, Isabel returned home, and when she did, Rey was waiting for her. She noticed him staring at her from the living room. He seemed anxious.
“Mom,” he said. “I need to borrow something.”
She looked perplexed.
“It’s important.”
“Okay,” she said.