“Life is what you make it.”
Chapter 1….. I Run This Joint
If she touches me again, I am going to bite her hand. Nobody told her to touch me the first time. I can’t believe she
keeps saying the same things over and over. She has said it about 100 times. “Line up on the white line.” She is driving
me crazy. Miss. Nelsok thinks she runs this class. She doesn’t. I run this joint. I scream at her. “You better not touch
me or I’m going to kick your butt you ugly hog!” I shrug my shoulders because I know what she is about to say.
“Write up.”
I could care less about a write up. “I don’t give a care.” I say it loud enough for her and anybody else to hear. Here she
comes.
I am Maurice Wells. I am ten years old and in the 4th grade. People keep saying something about me having ADHD.
They call it Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder. I am going to try to look it up. I want to know what it means. This
is my second year in 4th grade. I heard Miss Nelsok tell Mrs. Sparks, the guidance counselor, that I should have been
passed on since last year. Mrs. Sparks says that my other school must have failed me on purpose to teach me a lesson.
I’ve got a news flash for them. “LESSON AINT LEARNED!” Now it’s time for me to teach the school system a lesson. The lesson is going to be: Don’t mess with Maurice because I run this joint. “Maurice. I would appreciate it if you
would not curse at this school.” There she goes again with her preaching. I could just slap her. Miss Nelsok is the worst
teacher that I’ve ever had.
I move out of line again. Just to let her know that she doesn’t tell me what to do. Like I said, I run this joint. Everybody else moves along. I’m not. I’m going to show her how I can flip, jump and hop. I cartwheel to the left and do another cartwheel to the right. All the other kids are going around me. They are looking straight and headed to class to
learn Math. I ain’t doing none of that stuff. For what?
When we get to class, I don’t sit down like every other fool in here. I walk around the room showing everybody my
stomach. We are coming from the cafeteria. I’m rubbing my stomach letting everybody know that the food was good
and my belly is full. “Hey! Everybody! I’m going to you show you something. That food was soooo good. Man, those
nachos, the milk. I’m gonna sleep good.” I’ve decided. I’m going to take a nap whenever I decide to sit down.” Miss
Nelsok is following me. “Maurice. I need you to sit down.” Do I have to call your grandmother for you?”
“And what she supposed to do?” I snap at her. “You can call Grandmother. She ain’t going answer the phone for no
skank like you. I walk around laughing at all the other kids’ face to make them laugh. They know they want to laugh.
Some of them do. When they laugh, I go to them and give them a high five. “Ha ha… Man, she don’t tell me what to
do.” I run this joint.”
I start arguing with Miss Nelsok about why I don’t have time to sit down. We go back and forth. I argue with Miss Nelsok until I am tired. She doesn’t even try to teach these fools Math. I think I’ve won the battle. She just sits at her fat
desk. She writes and writes. She keeps telling me that she is keeping paperwork on me. I let her know. “I don’t give a
care.”
For about 40 minutes, I dance and throw pencils at the windows. Every now and then I tell Miss Nelsok how much she
makes me sick with all of her writing and paperwork on me. I go to my desk. I put my head down. I’ve worn myself
out and I’m tired of arguing with this teacher.
“Goodnight ya’ll. Wake me up when the bell rings.
“When I change, the whole world changes.”
Chapter 2….. Bus Stop Fun
It’s Friday. It’s time to act a fool. I smell the bacon that my Grandmother is cooking. Boy, do I love bacon. In no time, I
find myself some shorts, a T-shirt and my school uniform. I get to wear my yellow shirt under my green uniform. They
appreciate my style at The Village Academy. I look so fly. My Grandmother has my breakfast ready. I slide down the
banister and jump to the bottom of the steps. Here she goes with her fussing. “Maurice, how many times have I asked
you not to slide down that banister?” She throws up her hand to pop me. I know she is not going to hit me. She never
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does. Gene Bates is a sweet Old Grandmother, but she is always telling me what to do.