The Percy Hargrove Stories: It's All Elementary
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About this ebook
The Percy Hargrove Stories is a collection of heartfelt and inspiring short stories about Percys life and growth. Through them we travel into Percys world and witness his triumphs over hardship, calamity and misfortune. From Percy we learn that intellect, kindness, laughter and a good dose of common sense can ultimately overcome racism, bullying, negative peer pressure and family conflicts. He shows us how to turn the difficult circumstances of life into opportunities to display friendship, forgiveness and love.
Young Percy Hargrove is a product of the city. He's no angel, no cherub and certainly no saint. Hes a good-hearted, good-natured city kid who seeks adventure and, in the process, finds his way into and out of his fair share of trouble. But through it all, hes growing, learning and adapting. Read his stories and join his journey to become a better son, a better friend, a better man.
Perry Lee Harden
Author Perry Lee Harden was born in Milledgeville, Georgia and raised in South Ozone Park, Queens, New York. Today, he lives about thirty miles east of Queens in the town of North Babylon, Long Island, New York. He has been writing and telling stories since childhood. This is his first published work.
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Book preview
The Percy Hargrove Stories - Perry Lee Harden
The Percy Hargrove
Stories
It’s All Elementary
Perry Lee Harden
US%26UKLogoB%26Wnew.aiAuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: 1-800-839-8640
© 2012 by Perry Lee Harden. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Published by AuthorHouse 07/27/2012
ISBN: 978-1-4772-2438-0 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4772-2437-3 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2012910953
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,
and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Contents
Good Afternoon, Mrs.Brandley
II
III
Brown Eyes, Blues Eyes
II
III
IV
A Fine Feathered Caper
II
III
IV
V
A Bicentennial Moment
II
A Grown Up Lesson
II
III
Defending the Kingdom
II
Good Afternoon, Mrs.
Brandley
George Washington and Abraham Lincoln were both famous for possessing a certain quality of character, who knows what it was?
Mrs. Brandley asked.
They both owned slaves,
said Vinny, without waiting to be called.
No that is incorrect, Vincent,
Mrs. Brandley said. Lincoln apposed slavery and is credited with ending it, at least for Confederate slaves, through the Emancipation Proclamation of 1863. The rest of the slaves weren’t freed until after the thirteenth amendment to the Constitution was signed in 1865. And, Vincent, please raise your hand if you want to be called.
I smiled as I raised my hand high.
Percy Hargrove,
Mrs. Brandley called out.
They were both famous for their honesty,
I said confidently. Abraham Lincoln was known as, ‘Honest Abe,’ and George Washington proclaimed ‘I cannot tell a lie’.
That is correct, Percy. Thank you,
she said. Although I doubt, a truly ‘honest’ politician has ever really lived.
The whole class laughed, except Vincent Black.
Why does he always get to give all the answers?
Vinny asked loudly, without raising his hand.
He doesn’t get to give all the answers,
Mrs. Brandley said sternly. As usual, Vincent, you’re exaggerating. That’s a very undesirable character trait, by the way. I called on Percy because he raised his hand in a respectful manner and waited to be called before providing the answer.
Vinny sucked his teeth loudly and squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.
Percy’s approach displayed good manners, courtesy and proper etiquette, while your approach was, well, in a word… rude.
Vinny sucked his teeth again, crossed his arms, dropped his brow and stuck out both lips.
Mrs. Brandley was a great teacher. She was knowledgeable, approachable and usually patient. She was also proud, polished and black. She had arrived at the start of the school year and immediately took over our sixth grade honors class. She was the newest teacher at Public School 124. The first black teacher in the history of the school and the smartest teacher I had ever met.
Mrs. Brandley had one other trait that I truly admired, a knack for putting Vinny in his place.
Here’s a question for extra credit,
Mrs. Brandley said. Ten points on your next history test for anyone who can tell us what percentage of the nation voted for Lincoln during his first election.
I knew the answer, but before I could raise my hand the lunch bell rang.
Ahhh! Now you’ll all have to wait until after lunch for the answer,
she said. I know you’re disappointed but try not to let it ruin your lunch. Class, dismissed!
As we all filed down the staircase to the lunchroom, Vinny grabbed my shoulder.
I got something to tell you when we get downstairs,
he said. You’re gonna love it. It’s gonna be great.
Yeah, sure… I doubt it,
I said.
As we lined up in the cafeteria and waited to go through the lunch line, I pulled out my dime for the cafeteria lady. Mom made sure I had a dime every day for lunch and a nickel for milk.
You still eating that crap, Percy,
Vinny called out to me from his usual table. "That’s welfare food. You should start bringing a bag lunch, like me. I always bring a bag lunch."
Maybe tomorrow,
I yelled out. My Mom’s gonna play the lottery again tonight. If we hit, it’s a bag lunch for me every day, just like Vincent Black.
Vinny played the braggart with the rest of us as often as he could. If he got new sneakers, he bragged about it. If he got a new coat, he bragged about it. If he got a new bookstrap, he bragged about it. Vinny bragged about everything. He even bragged about bragging.
"Once you get your slop, come and sit with us Hargrove," he yelled.
By the time I got through the line, Vinny’s table was full and I was glad. I didn’t want to sit anywhere near him. In addition to being a braggart, he was also a bully.
Come on over and sit with me, Hargrove,
he called out, as I tried to sneak by unnoticed.
That’s okay,
I said. Your table is full. I’ll sit over here with Renaldo and Dicky.
Renaldo Garcia and Dicky Scribbles were good friends of mine and they were both nice guys, unlike Vincent Black.
That’s nonsense. There’s more than enough room for you here. Besides, I want to talk to you about something,
Vinny said, motioning toward Don Hillenboro. Get up, Don and go sit somewhere else. I need to talk to my main man, Percy Hargrove.
Don Hillenboro was a friend of mine too. I hated seeing him scurry off and go sit in the corner, at Vinny’s command.
I had no idea what Vinny wanted to talk to me about, but I was sure he was up to no-good. He was always up to no-good.
Percy, my man,
he said wrapping his arm around my shoulder as soon as I sat down. We got a plan for this afternoon and we want you to join us.
"What kind of plan?"
Well, you know how Mrs. Brandley always demands that we respond to her at dismissal, right?
he asked.
Yeah, what about it?
Well, we’ve all decided that this afternoon, when she dismisses us, we’re not gonna respond. We’re not gonna say anything. We’re just gonna stare at her like she’s got two heads or something,
Vinny chuckled. Isn’t that great!?
No, not really, to me it sound’s sort of… rude,
I said. What are we doing that for? What’s the purpose?
"What’s the purpose? . . . We’re doing it because I said so, Vinny responded, staring me down.
We’re doing it and you’re doing it too. I’m tired of her and her upper-class airs and snide remarks. This morning she said I was rude, but this afternoon, I’m gonna show her how rude I can really be."
This sounds like a personal problem of yours, to me,
I said, as I ate my meatloaf and potatoes. "Why involve the rest of us? If you don’t want to respond to her this afternoon, don’t respond. But when I’m dismissed, if Mrs. Brandley speaks to me, I’m gonna respond to her."
If you do, I’ll smash the side of your face in like a pumpkin, as soon as we get outside,
Vinny said, as he stood up and looked around at the rest of the kids in the cafeteria. "Listen to me, nobody is gonna mess this up for me. Nobody, male or female, better respond back to Mrs. Brandley when she dismisses us this afternoon. Anyone who says a word back to her will get a punch in the face, a busted lip and a broken jaw from me, before they get to the first traffic light on North Conduit Ave."
Vinny’s light-skinned face was turning red. He was serious. This was no idle threat. Anyone who crossed him on this, better be ready to fight.
Vincent Black wasn’t all bad. He was, I must confess, a somewhat decent student. He passed most of his tests and quizzes and usually turned in his homework. Honestly, as a student he was average, at best. But as a bully, he was downright extraordinary. Fighting was his forte, and once he starting fighting, he could be lethal.
In gym class, while the rest of us played dodge ball or basketball, Vinny concentrated on his three areas of expertise, grappling, gouging and fist-de-cuffs.
He was the only student, in the history of the honors class at P.S. 124, who had ever been suspended for fighting. We all knew he only remained in the class after that because his father was president of the Parents Teachers Association.
"I don’t care what you say, Vinny, I said defiantly.
If she speaks to me, I’m speaking to her."
"And if you speak to her, you’re dead meat, Hargrove! Do you hear me? Vinny asked, slamming his fist down on the table.
I can’t believe you. I let you sit at my table and you act all ‘high and mighty.’ Get up, get away for my table. Get outta my sight! You don’t belong here anyway."
I was only too happy to oblige. I got up and went over to the table in the far corner, the table where I wanted to sit in the first place. The table Don was banished to at the start of the lunch period. I sat down with Don and invited Renaldo and Dicky to join us. They didn’t.
Wow, Percy!
Don whispered. You really stood up to him, but don’t forget, he’s crazy! I don’t wanna see you get hurt. Maybe you should think about this some more before dismissal.
Think about what,
I shot back. Vincent Black is not the boss of me, not today, not tomorrow, not ever!
I know, I know but, maybe you should just…
Don,
Vinny called out. Why are you speaking to that loser? Come back over here with us.
Oops! Gotta go,
Don whispered, as he gathered his tray and his books and scurried back to Vinny’s table.
I spent the rest of the lunch period alone, in isolation and banishment, wondering if I’d made a mistake standing up to Vinny, and trying to figure out a route home that didn’t involve crossing North Conduit Ave.
II
When we scampered back into class after lunch my mind was on one thing and one thing only, dismissal.
Okay, once again, for ten points on your next history test, who can tell us what percentage of the nation voted for Lincoln during his first election?
Mrs. Brandley asked.
No one raised their hand.
Come on, a whole class full of the best students in the school and nobody knows the answer? Come on… somebody… anybody.
Mrs. Brandley’s eyes darted about the class, Percy, what about you?
she asked.
M-M-Me!
I stuttered.
Yeah, you,
Mrs. Brandley chuckled.
I’m sorry… what was the question?
Oh, come on! What is wrong with you all!?
she asked. Isn’t anyone paying attention? What happened to you people at lunch? You all look like you entered into some sort of group trance. Come on, ‘Earth, to the sixth grade honors class.’ What’s the matter ‘cat got your tongues?’
Slowly I raised my hand, but my brain still wasn’t working.
Okay, now that’s better. Percy, what percentage of America voted for Lincoln during his first run for the Presidency?
she asked.
Ah… um, 55 percent?
I asked.
No, that was the second election,
she said looking disappointed. "I’m talking about the first election. Would anybody else like