My Name Is Not Easy - By Debby Dahl Edwardson Page 0,70

Y

Th

ey belonged with the story Junior had written. Th ey needed

Junior’s story for backup. No, backup wasn’t quite right. Th e

audience that was going to read Amiq’s story needed to read Junior’s story fi rst. Th

at’s how it worked. Th

e story Junior said

didn’t belong anywhere belonged with Amiq’s.

Th

at’s what Luke decided, walking down the hall toward the library.

Father Mullen was mad. Who was responsible for this? He waved a newspaper at them. It was the “Letters to the Editor” section of the Dallas Morning News, a newspaper none of them had ever even seen before. Th e headline read: “From

the Ice Cellar to the Bomb Shelter: Seeking Missing People.” It was signed “Aamaugak, a student at Sacred Heart School in Alaska.”

Who was Aamaugak?

Looking at the headline, Junior felt all the blood drain from his face. For a couple of long seconds, he couldn’t even breathe. Maybe he would suff ocate. Or throw up. He looked at Amiq. Amiq looked at him and shrugged, smiling the way he always smiled. Like everything was all part of some grand plan he’d always had.

“I’m sure there’s some explanation,” Father Flanagan was saying, standing next to Father Mullen, ringing his hands.

Junior could tell that Father Flanagan was trying hard not to look at him.

“We will sit here until we get the truth, ” Father Mullen said.

213

my name is n ot easy final text_.indd Sec1:213

18/07/2011 8:25 PM

M Y N A M E I S N O T E A S Y

Th

ey all sat, rigid in their seats, trying not to eye each other. Th

e silence roared in their ears like a military plane.

A plane full of weapons landing. Father Mullen’s gaze swept across the room, pausing on Amiq’s downturned head. Amiq sat still. Calm and certain. Th

en, very slowly and very delib-

erately, he stood up.

Luke looked at him and frowned, shaking his head with a movement so slight, most people wouldn’t have noticed it.

Amiq looked away.

“I’m responsible,” Amiq said in a loud voice. “I did it.” Junior let out a big sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized that he’d been sitting there with his fi sts clenched, holding his breath. He was suddenly grateful that he was the kind of kid people never seemed to notice.

But with his fi sts unclenched, he felt strangely fl at and defl ated. And then, just as suddenly, he was mad. Amiq had done it again! Even though he’d been trying to protect Junior, he’d done it again. Made Junior invisible. Made Junior’s writing invisible.

Junior raised his hand. It seemed at fi rst that no one even noticed him, way in the back, his skinny arm poised like a question mark.

Father Mullen looked at him with curiosity. “Junior?”

“Actually, sir,” Junior said, shoving at his glasses. He saw Donna’s face, closed as a book, and looked at Leo Pete, scared as a rabbit, and at Amiq, who frowned at him and said no with his eyes.

Yes?” Father said.

214

my name is n ot easy final text_.indd Sec1:214

18/07/2011 8:25 PM

O U R S T O R Y

“I wrote it,” Junior said. Th

e words seemed to fl y out of

his mouth. He looked straight at Father, thinking about his story, which was now a newspaper story no matter what anyone said. Th

e tape was rolling in his head again, and he could hear it loud and clear: the word family. Suddenly his story seemed to belong to everyone, even Amiq. “In a way, sir . . . in a way, we all wrote it.”

He hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud.

Leo Pete shuffl

ed awkwardly, and the girls looked at Junior with betrayed eyes, then they looked at Father with looks that said, “We never!” Amiq grinned at Luke.

Luke stared back. “It’s true,” he said.

Father Mullen looked at Junior and smiled. “Th at’s very

noble of you, son,” he said. Th

en he told Amiq to follow

him.

215

my name is n ot easy final text_.indd Sec1:215

18/07/2011 8:25 PM

Civil Disobedience

SPRING 1964

Amiq was piling stuff together on his bed, acting like he was all alone in the room—all alone in the world, maybe. Acting like Luke and Sonny and the Pete boys didn’t even exist. He was staring at the bed as he worked with a look that said he didn’t see or hear any of them.

“What did you have to do that for?” Sonny said, fi nally.

It wasn’t a question; it was an accusation. Amiq fl ashed a look at Sonny.

“Because,” Amiq said. His jaw snapped shut on the word with a force that made Leo