The Acolytes of Crane "Updated Edition" Read Online Free PDF

for
his reaction as he wiped his mouth, his face contorted with fury. Yet, half of
me wanted to run—after all, Travis was a pretty big guy.
    It
was then my stomach sank. Travis suddenly cowered, and guiltily looked past me.
I knew that meant only one thing: I was in deep doo-doo.
    As
if I were being recorded in slow motion on video, my head slowly turned around.
Ms. Bricky, a tall, ramrod woman with horn-rimmed glasses and wrinkles
deep-lining her rigid face, was futilely patting at a huge water stain on her
dress, just below her sagging boobs. I realized what had happened. Ms. Bricky
was just about to nab me for leaving class unsupervised. And Travis had
accidentally spit water on her. Now this was worse. Much, much worse.
    She
grabbed me firmly by my arm; any harder, and she would have broken it. We
called her the Bricky because her body had a boxy shape, and she could have
moonlighted as a professional wrestler. 
    After
leaving the class in the hands of a teacher’s aide, the Bricky started marching
me down the hallway, en route to the principal’s office.  Travis witnessed the
entire spectacle, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
    With
the Bricky’s steely grip latched onto my biceps, I passed a group of girls who
were giggling and pointing at me. My heart sank as I realized one of those
girls was Mariah Espinosa.
    In
track meets, she finished first place in the events that the boys typically
dominated. She was bright, beautiful, and she made me feel as if I had happily
died and gone to heaven. It was magical listening to her musical-sounding
Spanish banter and watching her thick black hair sway about her shoulders,
while she gestured with her hands.
    I
arrived at the office of Miss Pinckney, the principal. ‘Why did you do this
Theodore?’ she moaned—and not for the first time, either. Reluctantly, I
answered, explaining what had happened at the water fountain. I admit it felt
good to tell the truth. She picked up the phone, and dialed up my mother while
my stomach remained twisted in knots. I kept staring at her perfectly coiffured
hairdo as I listened to everything she said to my mother. ‘Uh huh,’ Miss
Pinckney said, as she decisively lowered the phone back into its holder. “Your
mother’s on her way.”
    I
knew Ann had been at home packing for our trip to Taylors Falls. I wasn’t
looking forward to her coming to my school, because my friend Jason was
supposed to go to the falls with us and I didn’t want to ruin that.
    Taylors
Falls was north of the Twin Cities.  It was breathtakingly beautiful in autumn,
when the colors of red, orange, and yellow proudly staked out their domain over
the forest canopy. The numerous cliffs of Taylors Falls had eons ago been
carved out and shaped by the powerful St. Croix River. To miss such a craved
opportunity to escape the Red Bricks over mischief would have been a shame.
    At
school, I waited for further pain and loss from my family, as I fully expected
my dad would cancel our trip to Taylors Falls. I knew what was coming, and I
would have liked to crawl through a rabbit hole to disappear.
    From
Miss Pinckney’s window, I could see my mother Ann pull up in her long shiny
black car, with red trim riding down the side of it. It was a gift from my
maternal grandparents. They had a couple of successful small businesses that
afforded them the cash to buy extravagant gifts.
    When
my mom stepped out of the vehicle, I could tell she was upset, because she
almost tripped over the curb. She wanted to get to me. Her weapon of choice at
home was the wooden spoon.
    The
door of the principal’s office swung open, and my mother stood stiffly before
me, as if she meant business. ‘What did he do this time?’ Ann demanded, with
her hands over her hips and eyes that could burn through a concrete road
barrier. ‘Wait till your dad gets a hold of you!’
    ‘Your
son kicked a boy in the private area today and from what he told us we reasoned
to believe that he learned this action