My Remarkable Journey Read Online Free PDF Page A

Jersey.”
    “Yeah, but what happens if Moppo comes back for high school?”
    “We’ll all be at Lafayette by then,” Herbie said. “It’ll become a joke.”
    We decided to go along with it. We went to Mrs. Dewar’s homeroom the next day looking incredibly forlorn.
    “Moppo’s dead.”
    Oh, the crying. The girls. The friends.
    Mrs. Dewar reported it to the office. The principal, Dr. Cohen, called the house. The operator told him the phone had been
     disconnected. The office staff wrote “Deceased” on Moppo’s records. Herbie, Brazzi, and I went around collecting money for
     flowers. Then we headed off to Nathan’s and stuffed ourselves on hot dogs and knishes.
    A couple of days later, a message was waiting for us at homeroom. Herbie, Brazzi, and Larry were wanted in the principal’s
     office. As we were walking down the corridor, I was almost crying. My father was dead and I was in trouble again. Brazzi was
     going, “I’ll never be a doctor. I’ll never be a doctor.” Herbie was saying, “No problem. No problem. We’ll just tell ’em we
heard
that Moppo died. We’ll act thrilled that he’s still alive. We’ll say we sent the money to charity and we’ll do our best to
     get it back.”
    We went into the principal’s office and Dr. Cohen was beaming. “Sit down, my young friends,” he said.
    He started to tell us that junior high schools had been looking for a way to attract positive publicity. Most high schools
     were able to do this through coverage of their sports teams—but not junior highs. At a faculty meeting, a question was raised:
     What can we, at PS 128, do to show ourselves in a good light?
    “Somebody mentioned how the three of you raised money on behalf of your friend Gil Mermelstein,” he said. “We thought it would
     be a good idea to have an assembly. The Gil Mermelstein Memorial Assembly. It’ll be a couple of weeks before graduation. We’ll
     present a plaque to the outstanding student in the school. At the presentation, we’d like the three of you to be onstage in
     honor of your late friend. The
New York Times
has agreed it would make a good feature story.”
    This would have been the perfect time to confess. But we were either scared, caught up in the ego of the moment, or both.
    We left the room, and Herbie actually said, “You know, when you think about it, some day Moppo will die. This award
will
kick in.”
    Time passed and the day of the ceremony came. The three of us stepped up to the stage dressed in suits. The whole school filled
     the auditorium. The winner of the Gil Mermelstein award was there to get the plaque. The principal was giving it his all for
     the
New York Times
reporter.
    That day, that damn day, Moppo came back to school. In the annals of the history of tuberculosis, this was medicine’s finest
     moment. Moppo had been cured.
    The corridors were empty as Moppo came into PS 128. He didn’t know from nothing. He found a janitor or someone, asked what
     was going on, and was told that the entire school was at a special assembly.
    Moppo went down to the auditorium. There were two ways he could enter: through the side and some Chinese curtains (very inconspicuous).
     Or through two big brass doors in the rear that opened to the light.
    Moppo opened the brass doors just as we finished the Pledge of Allegiance. The first thing he saw was a banner: GIL MERMELSTEIN MEMORIAL .
    Herbie immediately spotted him. He was thinking,
Moppo is not the brightest guy in the world. But he knows what “memorial” means.
    Moppo froze. The kids in the back row sized it all up immediately. Moppo was alive. Herbie, Larry, and Brazzi glommed us for
     money. The kids knew it the second they saw him, because they were New York City kids. New York City kids are a step ahead.
     Laughter began to fill the room. The principal didn’t know what was going on. He didn’t recognize Moppo. But the
New York Times
reporter was sitting up front, so there was obvious discomfort.