Shut up! he yelled at them. Idiot girls!
Geez, Taylor, said Noah. Whats your problem?
The other skaters had popped up their boards and were now standing around, watching. One of them joked, Hey, why did Taylor cross the road?
Why?
Cause he got his dick stuck in the chicken!
All the skaters laughed, including Noah. He couldnt help it.
He was unprepared for the blow. It seemed to come out of nowhere, a sucker punch to the jaw. His head snapped up and he stumbled backwards and fell, his butt hitting the blacktop. There he sat for a moment, ears roaring and vision blurred as his shock gave way to hurt rage. He was my friend, and he bit me!
Noah staggered back to his feet and lunged at Taylor, tackling him head on. They both sprawled to the ground, Noah on top. They rolled over and over, both boys flailing, neither one able to get in a decisive blow. Noah finally pinned him, but it was like holding down a spitting cat.
Noah Elliot!
He froze, his hands still trapping Taylors wrists. Slowly he turned his head and saw the principal, Miss Cornwallis, standing over them. The other kids had all backed away and were watching from a safe distance.
Get up! said Miss Cornwallis. Both of you!
At once Noah released Taylor and rose to his feet. Taylor, his face by now almost purple with rage, screamed: He shoved me! He shoved me and I tried to defend myself!
Thats not true! He hit me first!
He threw his skateboard!
I didnt throw anything. It was an accident!
Accident? You liar!
Both of you, be quiet! yelled Miss Cornwallis.
There was shocked silence in the schoolyard as everyone stared at the principal.
Theyd never heard her yell before. She was a prim but handsome woman who wore suits and low heels to school and kept her blond hair neatly tucked into a French twist. To see her shouting was a revelation to them all.
Miss C. took a deep breath, swiftly recovering her dignity. Give me the skateboard, Noah.
It was an accident. I didnt hit him.
You were pinning him on the ground. I saw it.
But I didnt hit him!
She held out her hand. Give it to me.
But-
Now.
Noah walked over to his board, lying a few feet away. It was well-worn, one chipped edged crisscrossed with electricians tape. The board had been a birthday gift when he turned thirteen. Hed added the decals underneath it-a green dragon with red fire shooting out of its mouth-and had broken in the wheels riding the streets of Baltimore where he used to live. He loved this board, because it reminded him of everything hed left behind. Everything he still missed. He held it for a moment, then, wordlessly, handed it to Miss C.
She took it with a look of distaste. Turning to address the other students she said, Therell be no more skating on school grounds. I want all the skateboards brought home today. And if I see any boards tomorrow, Ill confiscate them. Is that clear?
There was a silent nodding of heads.
Miss C. turned to Noah. Youre in detention until three-thirty this afternoon.
But I didnt do anything!
You come to my office now. Youre going to sit and think about what you did do.
Noah started to argue, then swallowed his words. Everyone was looking at him. He glimpsed Amelia Reid standing by the track field, and his face flushed with humiliation. In silence, head down, he followed Miss C. toward the building.
The other skaters sullenly parted to let them through. Only as Noah was walking away from them did he hear one of the boys mutter:
Thanks, Elliot. You screwed it up for the rest of us.
If one wished to take the pulse of the town of Tranquility, the place to go was Monaghans Diner. This was where the Dinosaur Club met every day at noon. It was not really a club, but a coffee klatch, six or seven retirees who, for want of a job to go to, hung around Nadines counter, admiring the pies under the plastic bells. Claire had no idea how the club got its name. Her guess was that one of the mens wives, in a fit of pique over her husbands daily absence, one day blurted out something like: Oh, you and that bunch of old dinosaurs! And the name stuck, as good names do. They were all men, all well past sixty. Nadine was only in her fifties, but she was an unofficial Dinosaur because she worked behind the counter and had the good humor to tolerate their bad jokes and cigarette smoke.
Thanks, Elliot. You screwed it up for the rest of us.
If one wished to take the pulse of the town of Tranquility, the place to go was Monaghans Diner. This was where the Dinosaur Club met every day at noon. It was not really a club, but a coffee klatch, six or seven retirees who, for want of a job to go to, hung around Nadines counter, admiring the pies under the plastic bells. Claire had no idea how the club got its name. Her guess was that one of the mens wives, in a fit of pique over her husbands daily absence, one day blurted out something like: Oh, you and that bunch of old dinosaurs! And the name stuck, as good names do. They were all men, all well past sixty. Nadine was only in her fifties, but she was an unofficial Dinosaur because she worked behind the counter and had the good humor to tolerate their bad jokes and cigarette smoke.