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Grape!
Grape!
Grape!
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Grape!

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Grape is in trouble again! After punching Miss Roof in the arm, he's suspended for two weeks, and Principal Clarkson has threatened to send him to Riverwash, a school for problem kids. But he has one last chance. Grape must spend an hour a day writing about his history of trouble—and there's a lot of trouble to choose from. Grape's best friend Lou is by his side, and even though Grape drives his parents crazy, they're pulling for him all the way. But will Grape make sense of it all? Will it be enough to keep him out of Riverwash?
LanguageEnglish
Release dateSep 27, 2019
ISBN9781947548602
Grape!

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    Grape! - Gabriel Arquilevich

    Contents

    Grape!

    Copyright © 2019 Gabriel Arquilevich. All rights reserved.

    Dedication

    DEDICATED TO…

    THE TROUBLE WITH MISS ROOF

    THE TROUBLE WITH THE SPIDERS

    THE TROUBLE WITH MY NAME

    THE TROUBLE WITH MRS. GORDON

    THE TROUBLE WITH BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE SUNDANCE KID

    THE TROUBLE WITH MR. PALATNIK

    THE TROUBLE WITH BULLY JIM

    THE TROUBLE WITH DONNY RANDALL

    THE TROUBLE WITH THE FROGS

    THE TROUBLE WITH CLAIR

    THE TROUBLE WITH STREAKING

    THE TROUBLE WITH LOU

    THE TROUBLE WITH ABE

    THE TROUBLE WITH THE BICENTENNIAL

    The end

    ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

    Grape!

    Gabriel Arquilevich

    Fitzroy Books

    Copyright © 2019 Gabriel Arquilevich. All rights reserved.

    Published by Fitzroy Books

    An imprint of

    Regal House Publishing, LLC

    Raleigh, NC 27612

    All rights reserved

    https://fitzroybooks.com

    ISBN -13 (paperback): 978-1-947548-59-6

    ISBN -13 (hardcover): 978-1-947548-61-9

    ISBN -13 (epub): 978-1-947548-60-2

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2018959156

    All efforts were made to determine the copyright holders and obtain their permissions in any circumstance where copyrighted material was used. The publisher apologizes if any errors were made during this process, or if any omissions occurred. If noted, please contact the publisher and all efforts will be made to incorporate permissions in future editions.

    Interior and cover design by Lafayette & Greene

    lafayetteandgreene.com

    Cover images © by C. B. Royal

    Regal House Publishing, LLC

    https://regalhousepublishing.com

    The following is a work of fiction created by the author. All names, individuals, characters, places, items, brands, events, etc. were either the product of the author or were used fictitiously. Any name, place, event, person, brand, or item, current or past, is entirely coincidental.

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of Regal House Publishing.

    Printed in the United States of America

    Dedication

    Para Adriana y Jaime

    DEDICATED TO…

    Principal Clarkson, for giving me a chance to stay at Rolling Hills even after I punched Miss Roof in the arm.

    ALSO DEDICATED TO…

    My mom and dad. Even though I get in so much trouble they still take a day off work so I can go whale watching.

    ALSO DEDICATED TO…

    My best friend Lou.

    NOT DEDICATED TO…

    Miss Roof.

    THE TROUBLE WITH MISS ROOF

    May 31, 1976

    Dear Mrs. C,

    Today I spent the whole morning in my room, and after that I hid inside Sigmund.

    Sigmund is a big leafy bush in our backyard. I crawl inside and nobody bothers me there, and the thing is, no one knows about Sigmund.

    Not even my mom and dad.

    Not even Lou.

    After Sigmund I went back to my room. Then I heard the front door open and I smelled the ammonia from my dad’s blueprints, and then I heard my mom and dad talking in Spanish.

    And then they called me to the kitchen table.

    Mrs. C, the kitchen table is the place for trouble.

    My mom handed me a letter.

    Grape, she said, is from the Principal Clarkson.

    I want you to read it, my dad said.

    So that’s what I did. I started reading it.

    No! my dad said. "¡Léelo en voz alta! Read it out loud!"

    Mrs. C, when my dad gets mad he talks in Spanish.

    So I read it out loud.

    Dear Mr. and Mrs. Borokovich,

    You are no doubt aware of Grape’s recent behavior during the 1776 field trip. Grape’s actions go against all that Rolling Hills Elementary stands for. And, of course, as you know, this is not Grape’s first brush with trouble.

    Mr. and Mrs. Borokovich, my first instinct was to have Grape transferred to Riverwash, our alternative track for students with academic or behavioral issues.

    I may be making a mistake by giving Grape another chance, but I’m willing to take the risk. I do not believe he would do well at Riverwash, and I do believe he’s a good kid.

    He will, however, be suspended for two weeks, the remainder of the school year. In those weeks, I have a very specific assignment for him. It is unconventional and demanding, but, I believe, important.

    In addition to his everyday schoolwork (which you will need to pick up at the front office by four p.m.), I am asking that Grape spend at least one hour each day writing in a journal. I ask that he reflect on his history of getting in trouble and try to make sense of what could possibly have caused him to hit a teacher. I ask that he be honest. The depth and honesty of his response will determine whether he participates in our Rolling Hills sixth grade commencement or if he’s transferred to Riverwash, where he will begin junior high, effective immediately.

    Please know that what he writes will be between him and me. If you could honor that, I would appreciate it.

    Once again, I believe that Grape is a good kid. His teacher, Mrs. Sanders (the students call her Tammy), says he’s a lively writer, and so here’s his chance to write.

    Sincerely,

    Shelly Clarkson

    Shelly Clarkson, Principal, Rolling Hills Elementary

    Well, my dad said, what do you think?

    Mrs. C is cool.

    No, is not cool! my mom said.

    And she is the principal, my dad said, so call her Principal Clarkson.

    Dad, she wants us to call her Mrs. C.

    No. Not in my house. Is not right! Let me put it this way.…

    Mrs. C, when my dad says Let me put it this way, he explains what he just said but kind of new. But the thing is, just when he’s done, he says Let me put it this way and starts all over again.

    So that’s what he did.

    Let me put it this way, if you have the boss, you don’t call the boss Mr. K. You call the boss Mr. Klein. Or if you have the doctor, you don’t call the doctor Doctor M. Let me put it this way….

    When he was done, I said, Okay.

    Grape, my mom said, is not okay!

    Mrs. C, my mom was crying.

    She say you’re a good kid. Remember that, Grape. Is your last chance! Do you know the kids in that other school? Is dangerous!

    My mom must have said ten times how lucky I am to have this chance. And she must have said twenty times, She say you’re a good kid! My dad said Let me put it this way a few more times, then I went to my room.

    So, okay, Mrs. C. I will write for one hour a day.

    But I hope it’s all right if my sentences get long because sometimes all my thoughts come rushing and I have to catch up to them, and the thing is, Mrs. Gordon always said to put more periods in my sentences, but Tammy says it’s fine to write really long sentences as long as they make sense, so that’s what I’m going to do.

    I will write about my history of getting in trouble, and I will try to explain why I punched Miss Roof in the arm, and since you’re the only one reading it, I promise to be honest, and I’ll try to remember how lucky I am to have another chance, and I’ll try to remember that I’m a good kid.

    The thing is, Mrs. C, I don’t know if I believe you, but you’re right about one thing.

    I really don’t want to go to Riverwash.

    THE TROUBLE WITH THE SPIDERS

    June 1, 1976

    Mrs. C, my history of getting in trouble started when I was a baby.

    So that’s where I’m going to start.

    I don’t remember it, but this is the story my mom tells me.

    It was breakfast and I was in my high chair at the kitchen table and I was slapping the plastic tray, and bits of cereal were flying all over the place, and I was driving my mom crazy.

    "Gaby, por favor, so much noise!" my mom said.

    I pointed my baby finger at her and said, Look! Look!

    ", look! look! is better!"

    Mrs. C, look was my first word, and I always pointed when I said it.

    Look! (ceiling fan). Look! (my dad). Look! (goldfish).

    This morning, it was a fly. It buzzed near my food and it zigzagged all over the kitchen, and I said, Look! Look! Look! and then it buzzed straight over me, and I tilted my head back.

    I couldn’t see it, but I could hear it buzz.

    Bzzzzz!

    I tilted my head back even more, but all I could see was the ceiling fan, and all I could hear was bzzzzz!

    I cried and cried and cried and slammed the tray and kicked my legs.

    "¡Dios mío, Gaby! my mom said. Enough!"

    Bzzzzz! the fly said. Bzzzzz! Bzzzzz! Bzzzzz!

    My mom chased after the fly with a rolled-up newspaper. "¡Dios mío! Stop crying. I trying to kill it!"

    All of a sudden I got really quiet. It was my mom and me versus the fly!

    The fly won.

    My mom put the newspaper down and I cried again.

    Is nothing I can do! my mom said.

    And then the fly buzzed right onto my tray and landed on a piece of cereal and looked up at me.

    My friend Sherman said flies have a bunch of eyes, so the fly must have seen a bunch of babies staring back at it, super mad and crying, but the fly didn’t care. It buzzed once, then took off like a helicopter, then flew behind my head. I heard bzzzzz, bzzzzz, bzzzzz and then silence.

    Mrs. C, the fly landed on the back of my head! I could feel it walking around, so I bent my legs and pushed them against the kitchen table, and the high chair tipped back and bits of cereal flew everywhere, and when I crashed on the floor I was on my back, still buckled in.

    Loooook! I said, pointing at my mom’s face.

    She unhooked me from the chair, and when she picked me up she saw blood on the floor.

    "¡Gaby, dime algo! ¿Estás bien?"

    Since I didn’t speak Spanish and since I only knew one word in English, I answered the best I could.

    I threw up on her lap.

    My dad met us at the emergency room.

    I’m afraid, the doctor said, that there’s a crack in your son’s skull. It’s a serious injury. We will need to keep him a day or two.

    Mrs. C, my dad fainted.

    After they un-fainted my dad, the doctor said, We will keep him sedated for now. I’d say it’s a fifty-fifty chance of brain damage.

    My dad fainted again.

    I pointed at him.

    Look, I said.

    A few days later my parents drove me home.

    The doctor said I had to wear a padded helmet for a month, and so when I should have been crawling around and playing in the dirt and eating bugs and clapping and saying look! like the rest of the babies in the world, I had a cracked skull and a padded helmet and instructions from the doctor to keep quiet.

    Maybe that’s why I talk so much now.

    My head healed, but my best friend Lou has another idea.

    Grape, he said, I think a few spiders crawled through the crack in your skull and into your brain. They’re probably spinning webs in there now. That’s why you’re so weird and why you get in so much trouble.

    I think Lou is right.

    THE TROUBLE WITH MY NAME

    June 2, 1976

    Mrs. C, you’re probably wondering about my name. Everyone does.

    The thing is, my mom and dad are from Argentina, and in Argentina, Gaby is a nickname for Gabriel, so when I was little everyone called me Gaby.

    It never bothered me.

    But you know the way everything can change in one day? Well, that’s what happened, and it started in Mrs. Gordon’s class.

    The thing is, a lot of trouble started in Mrs. Gordon’s class.

    Mrs. Gordon is super boring and she talks so soft it’s hard to hear her, like words escape from her mouth but she tries to suck them back in, and I kind of feel sorry for her because she has these glasses that make her eyeballs super big, like a cartoon character’s eyes, and she also wears super strong perfume and too much lipstick even though she’s old, but there’s nothing she can do about her big eyeballs, like there’s nothing I can do about my asthma or being short or the spiders in my brain, and maybe she wears so much perfume and makeup because she has a weird smell or maybe she wants to look pretty.

    Mrs. C, the problem is that she needs everything to be perfect.

    The chairs had to be in a perfect row before lunch, and our book covers had to be perfect or she sent us home with a slip, and then my mom had to help me make a perfect book cover, and my

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