This story is about YoungStar Malcolm Bakersfield, his mysterious new classmate and a pencil that changes everything!
If you don’t understand him at first,
Try reading aloud then you’ll have a thirst.
‘Malc’ has something to say about everything,
Even if no one’s really listening.
You might agree with him or have a different view,
It’s OK wit him if it’s OK witchu!
Now, read his story, then you’ll see,
Malc’sa lot like all, us, we.
Things are seldom what they seem--
once you see a pencil gleam!
from Chapter 1
PENCILOLOGY
Everybody likes the look, the feel an the size of a brand new, never been used pencil. An that pencil’s even better when it’s sharpened to a serious needlepoint. The teachers always be sayin: Don’t run with a pencil! You could injure someone!” So we run anyway cuz danger’s just a game to us. But back to the point--ha, ha. It’s best if you got a pencil that comes from someplace other than school. You can feel cooler than the kids usin them ole, free, yellow jobs. But if it is yellow--you still cool long as it don’t have the writin on it that the school pencils got. An it should be a number two. Everything I ever heard bout pencils asks for a number two.
Now I know most kids don’t be thinkin deep bout diffrent stuff as much as me.
See, I like to study things. Not just reglar things--like in school. I mean I like to watch people, animals an machines. Some a the kids I run wit call me The Watcher after the dude in that ole movie, The Brother from Another Planet. All he seemed to do was check everything out like a witness or somethin.
Yeah, I get into pencils just like most a my homies--but deeper--cuz I watch. The reason I do is cuz some kids be actin like a new pencil is gold! Even the ones who got they own! When the teacher busts out a new box--you’d think it’s everybody’s birthday! Which is weird cuz it’s the same ole school pencils--only new. Kids be tryin to act all cool an unimpressed but they watchin every move of the lucky one who gets to sharpen them pencils. Sharpenin is a whole nother story cuz some teachers got electric sharpeners!
I know I talk a lotta junk cuz I hang round older kids an even some adults. I manage to pick up a whole lotta ways to talk. Ole school an new school--it’s all the same to me. Conversatin an communicatin’s what it’s all bout.
We had a substitute teacher--Ms. Kady--for a week that tried to teach us how to properly usepencils. It tripped me out at first but she was OK so I listened. She said when she was in school the teachers showed the kids where an how to hold a pencil! She used a fat piece a chalk to demonstrate:
“My teachers would explain we were to lean the pencil back into the space between our thumbs an pointer fingers, in a slant. When the pencil lead became flat on one side, we’d turn it to the side that wasn’t. There was less waste, less sharpening, and less reason to get up.”
Boy, I knew wasn’t nobody goin for that! Ev-ery-body wanna sharpen they pencil at lease once a hour! Who even want they pencil to last longer than the eraser? The pencil be all stubbly an stuff. An those add-on erasers look wack. I ain never had a teacher--before that one--talk bout the right way to write--ha, ha. She said she hadtuh graduate to usin special ink pens in fourth grade! We can’t even use ink pens at my school! Too many kids be needin correction fluid all the time.
Since I been watchin, I’ve seen some things bout pencils that probly never will make no sense. Like playin leads or breaks. That’s when you an your partners try to see who can break whose pencil lead--or even the whole pencil--first by thumpin each other’s. I don’t even know why we do it! Maybe cuz we bored, wanna show off or cuz it drives the teachers nuts. It’s sorta the same way wit erasers. The teacher gives us nice new pink erasers. Sooner or later those erasers become history. It starts wit us puttin our names on them. Then some kids draw on them, stick they pencils into them, break or cut them in half, so now you got the crumbs developin. Course small pieces a rubber make good projectiles as Mr. Burns--the math teacher--calls them. So we end up throwin them at each other! After a while, hardly nobody got a eraser an those that do might share--or most likely won’t--cuz now the erasers is real valuable! Then we get reminded by the teachers bout how we abused the erasers when we had our own.
Speakin a ownin--it always be the kid who do the lease work wit the most pencils! This kid’s usely a boy. How he collects all them pencils is a bit of a mystery. He may’ve brought a few wit him, stole a few--he feels anything that hits the floor is fair game--might’ve got one from the speech teacher or lied an tol another teacher he needed one. Somehow he ends up wit bout fourteen in diffrent sizes, lengths an colors. He usely keeps a fat rubber band round them an displays his catch all day. You got a better chance a growin wings than gettin him to loan you one. An he hardly ever do any work or even draw! The one we got now don’t talk in class or do nothin. We call him The Collector.
Chapter 15
NEW ASSIGNMENT
For social studies we havtuh do research an a report on somethin we’re interested in. I’m tryin to decide if I wanna write bout soccer or racin. I decide to pick racin cuz I know so much bout it. An, I still got the info I found while lookin up Willy T. Ribbs. My moms is right. I can use what I’d saved to do my paper. I’d already printed out most a what I’d need. I ask Nia what she’s gonna report on.
“Ancient Egypt!”
She tries to stand the way they drew theyselves back then. I have to laugh cuz she looks so clumsy! Then she says:
“Mayhaps I’ll write about Mr. Barack Obama instead. He might be our next president, you know.”
“I figure a lot a kids’ll be doin that. I’ve decided to write about the manly art of motor sports,” Nia has her mouth open to tell me something else but I beat her to it. “I know there’s women racers but my report is gonna be on African American racers an I ain seen nothin on no black female drivers.” I find my printouts an notes on racin an try to school Juan Lee durin Brainstorming Time in class. We got a week to do our reports an I figure he’ll need help. Juan Lee decides to write bout break dancin cuz he’s so into it. I start tellin him sommuh what I’ll use for my report. I play it like I’m givin a lecture so he’ll laugh.
“First African American driver I learned about was one my father told me of by the name of Willy T. Ribbs.” Juan Lee starts chucklin an says:
“Is that really his name?”
“Yes, young man, ittis. As I was saying, I learned from many sites on the Internet that he raced for almost 25 years and was the most win-nin-gest African American driver in history! He won Driver of the Year twice and was the first black man to compete in NASCAR’sWinston Cup Series. Mr. Ribbs--for a long time--had been the first, and only, African American to test for the Formula One Grand Prix team in Portugal! He retired from racing and took up clay shooting because he had trouble getting enough sponsors. Advertising for their sponsors are the reason drivers and their cars have so many patches, painted words and symbols on them.
Hungry for more information, I put in a search for black racing car drivers. I found one site that mentions a Mr. Wendell Scott who was the first African American stock-car driver. He won the Grand Nationals in 1963!
There is also Mr. Morty Buckles who raced in the Indianapolis Motor Speedway in 2002. And, I discovered, on The American Racing Car Association site, a Mr. Herbert Bagwell, Jr., also known as The Hawk. He and his wife own and operate Bagwell Motor Sports. In an interview, Mr. Bagwell stated he could use a lot more sponsors and would like to see more black folk racing and watching in the stands.
And there’s Mr. Leonard Miller, co-owner of The Miller Racing Group. He was the first black owner in the Indianapolis 500! He wrote a book, SilentThunder, that tells about his experiences in the business of racing.
As far back as the 1920’s there existed a heartland racing sweepstakes called TheGold and the Glory, formed by blacks because they weren’t allowed to compete in the Indy 500. You can compare them to The Negro Leagues of baseball that were also formed due to exclusion.
And, most recently, there’s a Mr. Lewis Hamilton whom I need to research further. Mr. Lee, are you taking all this down?” Juan Lee busts out laughin. He enjoyed my lil presentation an he wasn’t the only one. Nia is smilin an softly clappin her hands.
Juan Lee--still laughin--says:
“Watcher, you crazy! But seriously, man, you gonna havtuh help me out wit my paper. I don’t think I’ll be able to find much bout breakin, krumpin an steppin in books.”
“Not a problem, my brotha.” I smile.
“Brainstorming Time is over, class.” Ms. Winston announces.
