CHAPTER 1
I lie in bed thinking of Joan instead of dreaming of what I will do when I rule the world. It is about two weeks after my little sister’s funeral, and I am also having trouble sleeping again. I give up after trying, like, forever, to go to sleep, and quietly head down the stairs to the kitchen. Some food should make me sleepy.
My parents have beat me to the refrigerator. They are getting a late-night snack, most likely the leftover lasagna. This is very unfair as they do not allow me to eat late at night, but here they are going through the fridge looking for food.
I murmur to myself. “OK, I will double back when they are done.” If there is anything I have learned from my 12 years on this earth, it is that catching an adult being unfair will not change their decision.
As I turn to head back upstairs, I realize that Mom and Dad are talking about me, the way adults talk about kids behind our back. They never take me seriously.
Between chewing Mom says. “I’m worried about JR. He is always so anxious. I hope he is not too stressed out.”
My name is Jamal Reynolds, but everyone calls me JR.
My dad munches as he talks. “If he is stressed, he is hiding it well. He still eats everything in sight.”
“But not an ounce of emotion during the funeral. No tears.” my mom says sadly.
There is silence. I feel bad that they are worrying about me. They have enough on their minds.
I shake my head from side to side and murmur to myself. ”I’m okay. I feel great. Never been better.”
My mom continues from the kitchen. “He has not been debating when we tell him to do something.”
They both chuckle. I do not see anything that is funny.
Dad adds. “No snarkiness, no arguing over everything.”
Of course! This is a stressful time for them, so I have been trying really, really hard not to upset them. For example, I have not been pointing out their flaws and mistakes.
Now is definitely not a good time to eat so I continue to head back toward my room. I will find a way to survive without food until breakfast.
Then I hear the ominous words from Mom. “Maybe he is acting up at other places, like school. We should keep in touch with his school.”
Dad ends with, “Yep, he is sure to take advantage of their sympathy.”
CHAPTER 2
I hear my parents go back to their bedroom. I finally give up trying to sleep, get up and look out the window of my bedroom. I look over the roof tops of my neighborhood and make out some lights of skyscrapers in downtown Manhattan. The lights of Manhattan always seemed to be calling you to come closer. Not me, however. I was happy right where I was in Brooklyn.
Suddenly there is some movement by the locked gate of the empty lot next to my house. In spite of the ten-foot metal fencing surrounding Stinky Dumping Ground – that is what I called the empty lot – I could still see some parts of it.
I open the window of my second-floor room and hear the faint sound of a truck engine idling. A garbage truck backs up to the gate which is right at the corner where my street begins. Someone gets out of the garbage truck, unlocks the gate, and then gets back into the garbage truck. The garbage truck is then reversed into Stinky Dumping Ground . However, it stops in an area of Stinky Dumping Ground that is not visible to me because it is blocked by the ten-foot fence. This has been happening a few times a week for the last year or so.
I was really curious about what was happening over there in Stinky Dumping Ground . Stinky Dumping Ground was right next door to my family and took up a corner lot. I shivered a little and anxiously bit my nails at the thought of something happening to my family. There were so many dangers out there.
I did not want to lose another family member. Plus, I could not sleep. There was only one thing I could do to keep my family safe. Investigate this myself! With everything that was going on, I was not likely to be punished if I was caught.
Rubbing my hands in excitement at the promise of adventure, I put on some jeans, a sweatshirt, and an older pair of sneakers. That should be enough to keep me warm in the early spring weather. I grab my phone and tiptoe down the stairs. The neighborhood was fairly safe so my parents had never installed burglar alarms. I slowly open the front door and close it just as carefully. I go down the steps and lift the gate as I open it. That is the way to avoid any squeaks.
I make a left and make my way toward Stinky Dumping Ground. I stay close to the wall as that is what soldiers do when they are on patrol.
I peek through the now open gate of Stinky Dumping Ground . The engine of the truck is idling and the front faces in my direction. I hear some activity going on behind the truck. I focus the camera and take a photo of the license plate and the idling truck.
This is going really smoothly. I did not know patrolling could be so much fun. I am curious about what the driver is dumping. I quietly move into the yard and walk past the truck. Ah, the driver is digging a hole and his back is to the truck. I look into the garbage truck and see a bunch of garbage wrapped in red bags.
I take some pictures of the red bags and reach for a small one. I think I have time to open it to see what is inside. That is when I hear a voice of someone approaching through the gate of Stinky Dumping Ground …the voice of the driver’s assistant, apparently.
The assistant is grumbling. “OK, I got the BLT sandwiches and the beers. I swear the next time the bodega guy messes up my order I will smack him.”
The approaching guy sounds like a roughneck, which is what we call rowdy people. I had to get out of there. It sounds like he is coming around the truck from the right-hand side, from the same direction that I used. I head around the left-hand side to hide behind the truck and avoid him.
As I make my way past the back of the truck I look down into the hole. It is a fairly deep hole that cannot be seen from any house.
I have a flashback to Joan’s, my little sister, grave as this looks similar, just broader.
It looks like they plan to leave some red bags and cover them with dirt.
However, at that same moment, the driver looks up in the direction of the voice of his assistant. The thought of approaching food must have dominated his mind. Of course, when he looked up he saw me looking down at him.
We stare at each other for a second. Both of us are surprised.
I panic and run as the driver yells out. “Grab him! This is private property. Thief! Did you steal something?”
I cannot imagine why he would think I was a thief. There was nothing of value in a dumping ground.
I run around to the side of the truck and run right into the assistant, who was not as far into Stinky Dumping Ground as I originally thought. We both fall.
The BLT sandwiches burst open and lettuce flies everywhere.
I am younger and more fit, so I am back on my feet first. I run toward the gate of Stinky Dumping Ground but the assistant manages to grab my leg.
“That’s my dinner you messed with,” snarls the assistant as he grabs the leg of my pants. I kick and try to free myself from his grasp. One of my kick’s lands on his face as he is still lying on the ground while holding onto my pant leg. I hear a sound of pain and a common curse word coming from the assistant.
But now I hear the driver approaching also so there will soon be two of them.
My first panicked thought is that I cannot allow my family to go through another tragedy of losing yet another family member. How will they ever get through that?
At this point, what I plan to do is wriggle away and go into my fighting stance, facing the two men. They will come at me and I’ll deliver a back kick that sends one of them flying. I will then effortlessly deliver a sidekick to the jaw of the approaching second man and they will lie unconscious…
… OK, Ok. Seriously now, after I wriggle away, I run for dear life, like I have never run before, through the gate of Stinky Dumping Ground and onto the street. However, they catch me again and the driver throws a punch that lands squarely on the back of my shoulder.
It hurt!
I scream loudly in pain, and it startles them for a moment. I do manage to kick him in the shin and take off again.
I hear curses coming from behind me, something about a homeless kid who no one will miss when they catch him. They are running after me again when suddenly an arm reaches out and grabs me.