There was only the room and the sound of Christopher’s mind.
DARE TO KEEP KIDS OFF DRUGS
Christopher could read!
He put his head on his desk and tried to hide his excitement. He wasn’t stupid anymore. And his mom didn’t have to pretend anymore. She would never need to say, “Don’t worry. Keep trying. You’ll get it.” He finally got it. He would make his mother proud with his test.
Not Mom proud. Real proud.
Christopher was about to put his big green pencil on his desk and raise his hand for Ms. Lasko when he stopped. Christopher looked around and realized all the other kids were still taking their tests. Heads were down. And big green pencils were going swish swish swish like the doctor’s pen in the hospital. Most of the kids were still on problem number two, including Brady Collins.
That’s when Christopher finally looked up at the clock. The test had started at eight o’clock that morning. Christopher didn’t even need to do the math in his head. He just knew.
He had taken the test in forty-two seconds.
He was so proud that he didn’t even notice the beginning of a headache.
Chapter 15
By the end of the day, Christopher’s headache was pretty bad. But he was too excited to show his mother his new reading skills to care. He went to the library to pick out his practice books. Mrs. Henderson was there to help him as always. He chose Bad Cat Steals the Letter E, which she set aside for him special. She was about to give him another Snoopy when he stopped her.
“Mrs. Henderson, is there a harder book I can try?”
“Let me see what I can find,” she said with a smile.
Mrs. Henderson came back with Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. Christopher couldn’t believe how thick it was. For a moment, he thought he should pick something a little less advanced. But when he opened the old book, all of the letters stood still long enough for him to read.
Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest—
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!
Not bad. Plus, the cover looked promising. Pirates and treasure? Win win.
“Do you want something easier?” Mrs. Henderson asked.
“No. This looks fun,” he said.
He thanked her and threw the books in his backpack. The clock finally hit three. And the bell rang. And the students filled the hallways like ants in an ant farm. Christopher grabbed his windbreaker from his locker. He said goodbye to Special Ed and the M&M’s.
And when he got outside, the sky was filled with clouds.
When his mother pulled up, he climbed in the car, excited to show her his first grown-up book. Until he saw that she had a sad face.
“What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Nothing, honey,” she said.
But Christopher knew better. She looked tired and worried. Just like the week before they ran away from Jerry. Something was wrong. But he knew his mother well enough to know that she would never tell him what it was. She didn’t want to worry him.
And that’s what always worried him.
He wanted to tell her about his reading all day, but it never seemed to be the right time. She barely talked on the drive home. She talked even less during dinner. And she was in a bad mood about the motel getting so messy and how she “couldn’t be the only one who cleaned up around here.” By the time the nightly news finished the lead story about the Middle East, she had apologized for being cranky and was already asleep in her twin bed.
So, Christopher let his mom sleep, and he picked up around the motel room. He was hoping if she woke up to a clean room, she wouldn’t be so worried that week. Then, they could have a great Friday night together. He had it all planned. Christopher would wait until Movie Friday to give her the special surprise. Not only would he show her his reading. But he would have his pop quiz back by then, too, and he could show her his perfect math score. She would be so proud that she would insist they go to Bad Cat 3D again. He might even get McDonald’s. Probably not. But maybe!
Christopher turned off all the lights and then slowly turned down the volume on the TV, so as not to wake her from “resting her eyes.” He went to the desk to read Treasure Island by the window