dn't whip
……… Page 15………
her hand through the air trying to get the teacher to call on her or charge through the halls
getting to class。 She didn't make unsolicited ments for
the teacher's edification or challenge the kids who took cuts in the milk line。 She just sat。
Quiet。
I told myself I should be glad about it — it was like she wasn't even there； and isn't that what
I'd always wanted？ But still； I felt bad。 About her tree；
about how she hurried off to eat by herself in the library at lunch； about how her eyes were
red around the edges。 I wanted to tell her； Man； I'm sorry
about your sycamore tree； but the words never seemed to e out。
By the middle of the next week； they'd finished taking down the tree。 They cleared the lot and
even tried to pull up the stump； but that sucker would
not budge； so they wound up grinding it down into the dirt。
Juli still didn't show at the bus stop； and by the end of the week I learned from Garrett that
she was riding a bike。 He said he'd seen her on the
side of the road twice that week； putting the chain back on the derailleur of a rusty old ten…
speed。
I figured she'd be back。 It was a long ride out to Mayfield Junior High； and once she got over
the tree； she'd start riding the bus again。 I even
caught myself looking for her。 Not on the lookout； just looking。
Then one day it rained and I thought