Taneesha Never Disparaging Read Online Free PDF Page B

time. Next year, you can come to my office with me.”
    â€œYou figured that, huh?”
    He was dissing me just as bad as Mama had.
    â€œWhen were you going to let me in on it?”
    They both looked confused. Well, maybe they’d get this:
    â€œHere’s some news: I don’t want to go!—AND YOU CAN’T FORCE ME!” I stormed out of the kitchen and headed toward the staircase in the living room.
    â€œNOW YOU WAIT ONE MINUTE, YOUNG LADY!”
    Daddy’s megaphone order stopped me midstomp, like one of those giant hooks that pull bad performers offstage in Harlem on TV reruns of Showtime at the Apollo . Actually, he sort of scared me.
    â€œWe just want you to experience a work environment,” he said.

    Now he was trying to sound all nice and everything. I didn’t care. I was still mad.
    He gave a big sigh. “Tell you what. Why don’t we chant about this? You know what Nichiren said—”
    â€œI don’t want to chant.”
    â€œWell—” said Mama. I noticed that the fire in her eyes had blown out. “It’s time for Gongyo anyway. Come on and sit down. You can lead.”
    â€œI don’t want to do Gongyo either.”
    I didn’t feel like reciting the evening prayer—Gongyo. I was ticked at my parents for not listening to me. And I knew one sure way to rattle their nerves was to dis Buddhism.
    â€œYou need to, Taneesha. You’ll feel better,” Mama cooed, like she was talking to a baby or something.
    It was too late for her to get all coochy-coo, though.
    â€œI don’t want to, okay?”
    â€œListen, Taneesha,” Daddy said, back to being mean. “I understand that you’re upset—”
    You don’t understand! How can you?! You’re not LISTENING TO ME!
    That’s just what I would have said—and how I
would have said it—if they hadn’t been bigger than me.
    â€œâ€”but we’re a family, a Buddhist family. We pray . And since you’re upset, that’s all the more reason to get to the altar. Have a seat.”
    He gripped the wooden high back of a chair whose seat was covered in moss-green fabric. It was the middle chair of one of three identical ones placed in a row in front of the wooden altar table.
    I knew what Daddy’s grip on that chair meant: “Sit Down, Or Else.” I didn’t want to find out what “or else” was so I kept my distance while I waited him out. Refusing to make eye contact with him, I stayed rooted near the stairs to see if he’d press the issue.
    Finally, I couldn’t bear the heavy pause stuck between me and that mean man. I dragged my feet over to the chair and plunked into it. Those two sat on either side of me.
    In the five minutes or so that it took to finish Gongyo, reciting the Lotus Sutra scripture, even though I was supposed to be the leader, I mumbled the words on purpose. I ignored Mama’s nagging whispers: “Louder, Taneesha.” “Sit up!”
“Put your hands together— please !” I slouched in my seat and kept my hands limp in my lap throughout the whole dang thing.
    They can’t make me chant and they can’t make me go to crummy old Take Your Child To Work Day, either.
    They’ll see.

CHAPTER 6
    E.T. MEETS SIX X-RAY EYES
    Who are you kidding, Taneesha Bey-Ross? You know you can’t do this. You’re going to flop!
    I did my best to ignore Loudmouth’s non-stop jabbering inside my head. Sometimes it took everything I had to tune out Evella’s pesky voice poking at me. I hated the way she popped in whenever I was in an uncomfortable situation—like right now, for instance.
    This Friday—one week and four days after “Showtime at the Bey-Ross’”—I’d been dragged kicking and screaming (well, griping, at least) into Ontario Hospital for Take Your Child To Work Day.

    With my back stiff as my father’s jokes, I sat in a