Lake Overturn Read Online Free Page A

and some old lady had told Father Moore afterward that it made her think there should be a boys’ choir. But now an eighth-grade girl had sung a Christian Rock song at assembly, and even if Enrique mustered the nerve to perform at school, it would now seem like he was copying her. But this—a science fair! Gene was super-smart, especially when it came to science, but shrank in front of groups, and was generally awkward and abrupt. Speaking was Enrique’s talent. Together they could win.
    Finally Gene said, “Maybe a nova. I’d like to research a nova.”
    Enrique’s heart leaped, although he wasn’t sure if Gene meant the car or the TV show. “It’ll be so much fun. If we win, then we go to State. I think we get money, too.”
    Locusts buzzed away as the boys made a place in the shade of Enrique’s house to sit.
    “Or a supernova,” Gene said.
    Enrique had the vague realization that Gene was talking about outer space but, not wishing to seem stupid, he skirted the issue. “I’ll bet Miriam’s already got some idea,” he said. “I’ll ask her tomorrow. No, I’ll wait until we have our hypothesis, then I’ll ask her. I wonder who she’s gonna get as a partner.”
    Enrique explored one scenario of victory after another until Lina called, “Enrique! You out there?”
    “Yeah, Ma.”
    “Dinner.”
    “Think about our project,” Enrique said, brushing seeds off his pants.
    When Connie came to find Gene an hour later, he was still huddled against the wall, brow wrinkled and features pinched, staring at the grass with such concentration it seemed he would set it ablaze.
    C OOP DROVE INTO the lot that separated the grade school from the junior high, hooked the bus up to the gas pump, and walked toward the garage. Fred Campbell was there, sitting on an upside-down five-gallon bucket. He stood as Coop approached.
    “Howdy, principal,” said Coop.
    “Howdy. Nice afternoon it’s turned out to be.”
    “Yessiree.”
    “Was wondering if I could have a little chat with ya.”
    “Goodness. By the look on your face it looks like I’m up fer detention.”
    Fred laughed breathlessly. A wetness in his nose made the laughter sound like weeping.
    “Let’s go in and sit down,” said Coop.
    They entered the large, cool garage which doubled as the junior high’s wood shop. In the back corner was a dented old office desk with file drawers that wouldn’t open—Coop’s desk. Coop sat in his chair and put his feet up. Fred sat across from him on a wobbly stool that some kid had made long ago.
    “What’s on yer mind, Fred?”
    Fred took a deep breath and in a voice that wavered, but had volume, said, “A parent called me yesterday, Coop. Said she saw you at Albertson’s buying beer. That’s your choice, of course, if you care to imbibe, but her concern, that she made mine, was the amount. Said your shopping cart had case upon case of beer and not a whole lot of anything else, and they weren’t regular beer cans either, but the extra-tall sort. Now, as I said, if you care to imbibe, that’s one hundred percent your business, and I’d never bring it up if you were a math teacher or a gym coach or a janitor. But as this parent pointed out, you’re picking our kids up in the morning and riding them home at night, which makes you a special case.”
    Coop took his feet down and folded his hands, but said nothing. Strange, though—he still had a pained smile on his face.
    “I’m hoping,” Fred continued, “that you’re going to tell me you’re planning a barbecue this weekend and everyone’s invited, including me.”
    After a few seconds, Coop said, “Well, principal, I guess I have three things to say in response to your question. One is that I’m pleased by your concern with the safety and well-being of the children. I’ve been drivin’ the bus for many years and I’ve seen three principals come and go, and watched ’em struggle to put ideas in kids’ heads when that’s no longer their job.