The Fork in My Fifth-Grade Road

By Ramona A Velazquez

It is 1957 and Margie Viccareeza is entering the fifth grade at Mohawk Elementary School in Park Forest, Illinois. After enduring a difficult fourth-grade year, Margie is determined to talk less in class, be a better listener, and stand up for herself. She wants fifth grade to be her best year ever.

Armed with a new attitude, Margie enters school on her first day only to discover that Lisa Bisby, the skinniest and meanest girl in the entire fifth grade is in her class again. Suddenly she finds herself standing at a fork on a road of good and bad decisions. With help from a compassionate teacher and lessons learned from both positive and negative experiences, Margie soon unveils the true meaning of friendship and the rewards of making thoughtful choices.

The Fork in My Fifth-Grade Road shares the tale of a young girl’s journey to realizing that she is responsible for the choices she makes in life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Oct 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781480867055

Ramona A Velazquez

Ramona A.Velazquez is a retired elementary school teacher who worked in the Encinitas School District for thirty-three years. She is also the author of The Fork in My Fifth Grade Road, Rosie, Who Thought She Was a Big Dog, and Rosy, La Perrita Que Creia Que Era Grande. Velazquez and her husband, John Batliner, divide their time between homes in Zacatitos, Mexico, and Encinitas, California.

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Copyright © 2018 Ramona A. Velazquez.

Image credit: Paula Velazquez Limbaugh

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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ISBN: 978-1-4808-6704-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-6703-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-6705-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018957511

Archway Publishing rev. date: 10/10/2018

CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1   The First Day of School

CHAPTER 2   The New Teacher

CHAPTER 3   Getting into the Routine

CHAPTER 4   The Patrol Guard

CHAPTER 5   The Christmas Present

CHAPTER 6   The New Year’s Eve Party

CHAPTER 7   The New Girl

CHAPTER 8   The Fifth Grade Play

CHAPTER 9   The Last Day of School

CHAPTER 10   The Official End of Fifth Grade

CHAPTER 1

The First Day of School

"M argie! Are you awake?"

I could hear my mother talking through the door. As I yawned, stretched, and pulled my covers closer to my chin, I realized that today was Tuesday, September 3, 1957—the start of the new school year. I lay there knowing that all the children in Park Forest would be waking now and getting ready, like me, for their first day.

I promised myself that this year was going to be different. I had always loved school, but for some reason, I seemed to have a difficult time fitting in. The way teachers reacted to me made me feel like I was their least-favorite student. It also seemed like playground bullies were drawn to me. Adding to all of this, I lacked confidence in myself, talked too much in class, and didn’t feel comfortable asking teachers for help. This year was going to be different. I was determined to talk less in class, be a better listener, and ask more thoughtful questions when I didn’t understand the information presented. Most of all, I planned to stand up for myself. I wanted fifth grade to be my best year ever.

Margie, get up, or you’ll be late for school.

I groaned, threw off my blanket, and sat up in bed. Mom, I’m up, okay?

I slowly lifted myself out of bed, mumbling, Gimme a break.

I turned to my calendar and X’d over September 3, my first day of fifth grade. I opened my bedroom door and walked across the hall to the bathroom, where I proceeded to wash my face and rinse my mouth with water. I never brushed my teeth until after I ate breakfast since toothpaste and food didn’t mix. Rinsing with water got rid of the awful taste I had in my mouth and left my taste buds ready to enjoy my meal.

Back in my bedroom, I reached for my new clothes which were laid out on my desk chair. I had taken my bath the night before, and was ready to get dressed. Socks, underwear, and new saddle shoes were placed just where I left them. I couldn’t wait to put them on. After quickly dressing, I made one more inspection of my outfit.

I looked in the mirror and smiled. The gray dress my grandma had bought me at Goldblatt’s Department Store was perfect. I ran my hands over the six large white buttons on the front bodice. I wasn’t a skinny girl. In fact, most people would probably describe me as a bit chunky, so I was particularly happy with how the dress made me feel thinner.

I chuckled to myself as I recalled how easy it was to convince my little white-haired grandma that I needed this dress. Fast talking had always been one of my gifts. In fact, I remembered two summers before when it hadn’t been so easy to talk her into parting with her money for something I wanted.

It happened when Grandma and I were at Woolworth’s store, buying toiletries she needed. It was then I spotted the bathing cap of my dreams. I really had to have that pink bathing cap with a white rubber flower attached to the left side. It was so beautiful, but my grandmother was not known for spending her money on things she felt were frivolous. A plain white cap with nothing on it was more in her price range. I knew she felt that a rubber flower wasn’t worth the extra money, and she would ask her favorite question, What’s wrong with the old cap?

I explained that the old cap had a tear on the rim and that I’d lost the strap that went under my chin. Slowly she gave me money—for a plain cap. The only thing, and I knew it lacked honor, was that I already had the more-expensive dream cap in my hand.

I nervously held the flowered cap in line at the register, waiting until the cashier rang it up. I was aware that I would be short some money, but I was willing to take the risk. It rang up for ninety-eight cents more than I held in my hand. I told the cashier I would be right back, jumped out of line, and ran up to my grandmother, who was standing a couple feet away.

Grandma, I don’t have enough money, and the cashier’s waiting. She has a line of people. I just need a dollar more! Please hurry.

The expression on poor Grandma’s face was priceless. She seemed confused as she reached for the handkerchief she had pinned in her bra and quickly opened it to hand me one more dollar. As I raced to the register to pay the difference, I glanced back and saw a look of bewilderment on her face. When I brought her the receipt and two pennies, she was speechless but held out her hand to receive the change.

Fortunately, my school dress was much easier to purchase. I had prepared Grandma for weeks before we went shopping to buy my new outfit for the first day of school. I made promises to her, like making my bed daily without Mom having to ask me, keeping my room clean, and of course—the clincher—doing all my homework every day.

I felt no guilt. She was used to me fast-talking her into things. At least when the day came to shop, she seemed more willing to buy the dress than listen to me say one more word.