“How can you hug that woman after what she did?”
“Because you don’t know the whole story,” he said, turning the key and starting the engine.
“What do you mean, I don’t know the whole story? She’s the dirtbag lawyer who pulled all her fancy tricks in court so you got stuck paying all the medical bills and everything else for some rich guy who was really at fault.”
Dad eased out of the parking lot and pulled onto the road. “Like I said, you don’t know the whole story.”
“Then tell me what I don’t know. I betcha I still wouldn’t be hugging that woman.”
“What if I told you that earlier this year, about a week before you came to your mother and me to ask about Mrs. Magenta’s after-school program, Gloria Kurtsman tracked me down. She’d had a chance run-in with that rich client of hers, and he couldn’t keep his trap shut. He had to brag about how he’d fooled everyone—includin’ her. Gloria didn’t need to do anythin’, but she did. After learnin’ the truth, she couldn’t sit back and let it go. She said she wished there was a way to take the case back to court and get it reversed, but it’d be impossible to prove the truth after all these years. So she did the best she could. She paid off all the damages and took the money she had earned from the case and gave that to us.”
“Mrs. Kurtsman did that?”
“Yup. I tried tellin’ her we didn’t want the money, but she insisted. She said it was the only way she’d ever feel better about what had happened.” Dad slowed and turned onto our road. “How did you think your mother woulda been able to quit her bartendin’ job?”
“I didn’t know.”
“I probably shoulda told you. It’s time I start treatin’ you like a man.”
I was quiet.
“Think you can handle that?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Oh yeah? Why?”
“Because I know being a man has nothing to do with being tough or how much money you make. But it has everything to do with the guy in the glass. You gotta be able to look him in the eye at the end of the day.”
Dad pulled in our driveway and parked the truck. “I don’t care what those tests say, Gavin. You’re a smart kid and a good person.”
“I’ve had the best teacher,” I said. And I wasn’t talking about Mrs. Woods or anyone else from school.
When we got home from Mr. Allen’s meeting, Mom and Dad spent time talking alone. They had a lot to discuss after reading my affidavit. It had come in the mail yesterday, but they didn’t get around to checking the pile of letters until just before the meeting. I didn’t think they’d ever see it, but now the cat was out of the bag. When they got done talking, they came and found me in my room. Mom sat on my bed.
“Trevor, we want you to know things will be different from now on,” Dad said. “We didn’t know this was happening.”
“We’re sorry.” That was all Mom managed to say, because she burst into tears.
Dad put his arm around her. “We’re proud of you, Trev.”
Dad and I didn’t have much experience with these heartfelt moments, so that’s where it ended. He nodded and I nodded, and then he helped Mom stand and leave.
That was the end of their talk with me, but they had a long sit-down with my brother when he came home from work early the next morning. I know because they were still talking to him when I left for school—and my affidavit was sitting in the middle of the table.
Jane and I left Mr. Allen’s special meeting and drove home, neither one of us saying a word. It takes a while to digest food, but sometimes it can take even longer to digest the truth. I left her alone. I’d had plenty of practice knowing when to do that.
I guess she just needed to sleep on it, because the next morning at breakfast Jane sat down across from me and started talking. “I’m so glad I put you in Mrs. Magenta’s program, even though I did it for all the wrong reasons. You needed your friends and a caring teacher around you, because I’ve been doing a terrible job as your mother.”
“It’s—”
“No, let me finish,” she said, cutting me off. “I’ll be forever grateful that Mrs. Woods came into our lives and had the courage to tell me what I didn’t want to hear. She was right. I was that person focused only on scores and results. I’ve been missing out on what’s most important…even though it’s been right in front of my nose. I’ve been trying to change, but I was too late. The damage was already done. Randi, I’m just as much to blame for what happened with those tests as you are. I’m so sorry, honey.”
I swallowed.
Mom reached across the table and took my hand. “Things will be different from now on,” she said. “I promise. You’re my Destiny, but your destiny can be whatever you want it to be.”
NATALIE KURTSMAN
ASPIRING LAWYER
Kurtsman Law Offices
BRIEF #29
June: The Verdict
A summary of the verdict
We, the defendants, were found guilty of major wrongdoing—twenty-five counts of cheating, to be exact. One for each person in our class. The judge sentenced us to mandatory enrollment in Mrs. Magenta’s program starting this summer.
We, the defendants, also had to attend a series of Saturday-morning seminars on the perils of plagiarism and cheating. At the culmination of the seminars, we had to write a paper of reflection, discussing what we learned about what we’d done and about ourselves.
I’m pleased to report that after an extensive interrogation process, Mrs. Woods was found not guilty and was allowed to return to our classroom. She was no accomplice of ours (though I did wonder how the woman who missed nothing had missed this).
Lake View Middle School was not let off the hook. The CSAs are not going away. For the next three years our institution will need to follow special testing procedures, which include the implementation of a series of action steps and the presence of several black suits during exam days.
Case Closed.
—
Not really. Even though this was behind us, that didn’t mean it was over. Our story made national news, which I found disheartening. All the good we’d done before this scandal wasn’t worthy of even our local newspaper, but our wrongdoing became a major story. Headlines read: CHEATING SINKS STUDENTS AT LAKE VIEW MIDDLE SCHOOL; CHEATING SCANDAL ON ASSESSMENTS; WIN IF YOU CAN, LOSE IF YOU MUST, BUT ALWAYS CHEAT—ESPECIALLY ON THE CSAS. I was quite upset with the media, until I recognized the potential upside. Is it possible that our wrongdoing will prompt other school communities to reevaluate their philosophy and approach to high-stakes testing? Will the words Gavin’s father spoke make any difference? I like to hope so. Time will tell.
I had talked to Magenta ahead of time, sorta like a coach talks with his assistants before the big game. There was something I wanted to do, and I needed her help pulling it off.
Today was not one of our normal after-school meetings. Earlier in the week Magenta asked me, Randi, Scott, Kurtsman, Trevor, and Mark if we could stick around this afternoon to give her a hand—all part of my plan. When we got to the art room, she told us she was hoping we could help her tidy up the children’s room at the library—it had been a busy place ever since our makeover and party.
“Sure,” we said.
“Mrs. Magenta,” Kurtsman piped up, “is that your painting?” She pointed to the back of the room, where there was a picture I’d never seen before.
“Yes.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you, Natalie. I put a lot of time into that piece. I’ve decided to enter it in an art show this summer.”
“You’ll win,” Scott announced, like it was automatic. “Your stuff belongs in a museum.”
Magenta looked at me and Randi, and we smiled. “Good luck,” Randi told her.
“Thank you,” Magenta said, “for the well wishes and for encouraging me.”
Me and Randi smiled some more—and then we looked at each other. There was so much I wanted to tell her, but we skipped rig
ht past the talking part and went straight to a hug that said everything that needed saying. We were still good at reading each other’s minds. We could talk and fill in the blanks later, when we were passing the football again.
I caught a glimpse of Kurtsman out of the corner of my eye. She was standing on her tippy-toes and silently clapping. The girl isn’t that bad.
“We better get going now,” Magenta said.
This was my first trip back to the public library since our project there, so besides what I had planned, I was also looking forward to getting some new books. I had my special library bag with me, the one that made me look ridiculous, and I didn’t care.
“Gavin, how did you know to bring your stuff with you?” Kurtsman asked. The girl didn’t miss anything.
“Whaddaya mean? That’s his favorite bag,” Trevor joked.
“Dude brings it with him everywhere,” Mark added.
I shoved both of them, like buddies do, not like before.
“I mentioned it to him when we were at the senior center last,” Magenta said, covering for me. “I thought of it because Coach likes it when Gavin reads to him. I meant to tell the rest of you, but then I got sidetracked and forgot. I’m sorry.”
“No worries,” Randi said.
That was a perfect lie Magenta came up with, ’cause I was planning on getting a few books to read to Coach. Woods had told Magenta to get me some poems, ’cause Coach liked poems and they’d be good practice for my reading.
“Okay, Recruits,” Magenta said when we reached the children’s room. “The first area I need cleaned up is the community room.”
“What’s in there?” Scott asked.
“A mess, but you’ll have to go and see. There might also be a surprise.”
“Cookies?”
“Maybe.”
Scott took off like a bullet, with the rest of our group chasing after him. I stayed behind. Magenta gave me a hand finding some new books. I got a couple different collections of poems for Coach, three new audiobooks and the real books to go along with them, plus a pile of new stories for Meggie, and then Magenta told me she had a picture book that I had to take home to read to my sister. I followed her to the area for “C” last names.
“This one’s my favorite,” Magenta said, pulling Miss Rumphius off the shelf. It didn’t have any “b’s” or “d’s” in the title, so that was a good start.
“What’s it about?” I asked her.
“A woman who has a dear relationship with her father and, at his request, makes the world a more beautiful place before she dies.”
“How does she do that?”
“She spreads flowers,” Magenta said, and smiled. “Miss Rumphius loves flowers, as I do.”
She gestured to the wall where me and her had added our artwork. I saw them then. There were flowers hidden in all her pictures. I hadn’t noticed that before. She had a small one tucked in a girl’s hair, another on a different kid’s T-shirt, bunches scattered on a hillside, everywhere and anywhere. They were quiet enough that you could miss them if you weren’t paying attention, but they made her pictures special. My favorite was the way she always put a flower in her name. It made it tricky to read, but once you knew that was her trademark, it didn’t matter. Her paintings reminded me of others I’d seen, but I couldn’t remember where.
“Meggie’s gonna love the book,” I said. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
I got all my stuff checked out, and then it was time for the rest of my plan.
“Sorry, Gavin,” Kurtsman said. “You took too long. Scott ate all the cookies. He couldn’t help himself.”
“Did not,” Scott said. “Trevor and Mark ate a bunch, too, but I saved you one.” He pulled a snickerdoodle out of his pocket and held it out for me.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m all set. You can have it.”
He didn’t even hesitate. Scott inhaled the cookie and wiped his hands on his shirt. “Fanks,” he said, crumbs falling out of his mouth.
We laughed. It felt good to laugh with Randi again. “Any time,” I said. “Now follow me.” I put my library bag off to the side. Then I grabbed what I needed from the art supplies and walked over to the throw rug.
“Gav, what’re you doing?” Randi asked.
I pulled back the rug, revealing Scott’s name and our yellow splat. I handed the brush to Randi. I didn’t have to say anything. She knelt down and added her name next to Scott’s. When she finished, she passed the brush to Trevor. Then it was Mark’s turn, and then Kurtsman’s. I was last to go. I took the brush.
“Kurtsman,” I said. “I was wrong about you. I’m sorry.”
She looked me dead in the eye. She was the best at that. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m glad things have worked out between us.”
“Me too.”
We didn’t hug or anything like that—one step at a time. I was still a football player, and she was still Natalie Kurtsman. We smiled and shook hands, and then I turned my focus to the yellow splat. With my best artistic touch, I added my name and I printed the words THE RECRUITS along the top. We were a team.
That ugly yellow splat looked much better now.
Gav made it official when he had us add our names to the yellow splat. Destiny had brought us together. The final pieces began falling into place the next day at recess.
It started out the same as every other football game. Natalie stood on the side. Even after she signed her name, I still couldn’t get her to play. Gavin was the quarterback on my team, while Trevor QB’d for the other. Scott ran around like a wild man. Nothing had changed.
It was on our third or fourth possession that Gavin dropped back to pass. I ran a deep post across the field and had all the boys beat. We’d connected on this pass a hundred times in his backyard. It was a sure touchdown, but he didn’t throw it to me. Scott was left standing wide open in the middle. Gav tossed a soft spiral to him and everything froze. The wind stopped blowing, the birds stopped singing, and we stopped running. We stood motionless, holding our breaths, pleading with the universe for a miracle. Then the stars aligned and the ball landed in Scott’s hands.
“Run!” Gavin yelled.
“Run!” I yelled.
“Run!” Natalie screamed.
Scott ran. That was one thing he’d been good at for a long time. He took off and everyone chased him. He made it to the end zone and tried his best to spike the football, but it bounced off his knee instead. It didn’t matter. Every kid playing, whether on his team or not, clamored and jumped around, slapping him on the back. Then Trevor and Mark hoisted him onto their shoulders, and we paraded around the field cheering for our hero. That recess was something I won’t ever forget.
“I did it!” Scott yelled.
“You did it!” Natalie shouted. “Home run!”
I love that girl.
The stars stayed aligned for the rest of the day, because later that night I had my best practice of the year. I stumbled on my first dismount, but when I looked over at the window, Mom gave me a smile and two thumbs up. After that I nailed my bars routine and stuck every single one of my landings—and I had fun.
On our way home Mom asked me, “Randi, do you still want to go to States?”
“Are you serious?!”
“Yes. You don’t have to go for me.”
“Mom, we’ve been training for this all year. Of course I want to go. I’m not going to back out now. I just had my best practice of the year!”
“Okay,” she said. “I just wanted to make sure, because there are some other people who are looking forward to watching you compete.”
“Other people? Who?”
“Your friends. Mrs. Kurtsman will be bringing Natalie and Scott and Gavin.”
“Really?!”
“Yes. It was Gavin’s idea. By the way, you can hang out with that boy as much as you’d like. I was wrong when I said those things about his family, just as I was wrong about a lot of things. You even have my permission
to marry him.”
“Mom!”
“Just saying.”
I couldn’t remember the last time Mom and I had laughed together after a gymnastics practice, but that drive home was the best car ride we’d shared in a long time. I forgot all about looking for the white house. I didn’t need a psychic or crystal ball anymore. I was in charge of my destiny.
I hoped the stars stayed aligned, but even if States didn’t go well, I knew it would still be okay. Mom would be proud of me either way, and my friends would be there for me. Coach Jane was gone.
Mom and I were a couple of new metamorphic rocks. Things had changed, and we had re-formed.
When I hopped in the car after school, the first thing Mom said was “What do you say we get some ice cream?”
“Ice cream!” Mickey yelled in the back. “Ice cream!” He liked his treats as much as me.
“We can swing by the senior center and pick up Grandpa first.”
“That’s a great idea,” I said. Even though Mom didn’t need to do everything for Grandpa anymore, we still tried to visit him every afternoon.
When we got to the senior center, Agnes and Eddie were out and about. “You’ll find him in Coach’s room,” Eddie said. “I still haven’t figured out how to get him into mine.”
Agnes elbowed her friend, and Mickey started laughing. He liked these two old women, and they had taken a liking to him.
“Scott, can you go and find Grandpa while Mickey and I stay here with Agnes and Eddie?” Mom asked.
“It’s room 214,” Agnes said.
“Okay. Be right back.” I turned and ran down the hall.
I didn’t have any trouble finding 214. The door was open, so I let myself in. I said hello but no one answered, and that was because Grandpa and Coach were in the midst of another chess match. They had found their equal in each other, so they didn’t play only on game night.
“Who’s winning?” I said.
“Who’re you?” Coach yelled, making me jump.