What Does It Take?

By MaJoBuSi

As if facing the ordinary challenges of adolescence is not enough, twelve-year-old Ton Richford has some other challenges. Among those challenges is that he inputs and outputs information as rhymes. Rhyming in compositions does not meet the school guidelines. Ton feels that it is not necessary to address his concerns as personal problems. He prefers to address them as universal concerns since there may be other kids in the schools with similar problems. Ton feels that being different should not be a barrier to growth and fulfillment. It takes spunk to face the school board. It takes even more spunk to face the challenges of a kidnapping. Is Ton's self-confidence and spunkiness enough to help him survive the escapades that he, partly, becomes responsible for initiating? The question is "What does it take?" What does it take to be heard, to hear, to survive, to stay alive, to grow, to know...? What does it take? What does it take for a young adolescent to begin fulfilling his dreams?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098037154

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What Does It Take?

MaJoBuSi

Copyright © 2020 by MaJoBuSi

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Prologue

As if facing the ordinary challenges of adolescence is not enough, twelve-year-old Ton Richford has some other challenges. Among those challenges is that he inputs and outputs information as rhymes. Rhyming in compositions does not meet the school guidelines. Ton feels that it is not necessary to address his concerns as personal problems. He prefers to address them as universal concerns since there may be other kids in the schools with similar problems. Ton feels that being different should not be a barrier to growth and fulfillment. Accompanied by his friends, Ton wants the Knowmore School Board to change some of its policies so that all students will benefit. He wants the requests that are presented to become like Bills of Rights for all the students regardless of person.

It takes spunk to face the school board. It takes even more spunk to face the challenges of a kidnapping. Is Ton’s self-confidence and spunkiness enough to help him survive the escapades that he, partly, becomes responsible for initiating? The question is What does it take? What does it take to be heard, to hear, to survive, to stay alive, to grow, to know…? What does it take? What does it take for a young adolescent to begin fulfilling his dreams?

Chapter 1

You are somebody I would like to meet. Introduce yourself, take a bow, before you get comfortable in your seat.

My name is Ton. I explore new frontiers for fun. Live and Learn is written on my button. My school and I need to reach another horizon.

Ton Armstrong Richford is my full name. I have several claims to fame. Football is my game. I am adventurous with an aim. I have a female friend you may call my flame. I read and study without feeling shame. I rap about almost everything; however, I will not defame your name.

Are you ready to commit? Don’t just sit there and think you can keep your wit. Talk to me. What do you like? What is your hit? What is your sport? Do you like the course, the field, the rink, the track, the court…? Commit, or try them all until you get a fit.

Here at Knowmore Middle School I am one of the best. I welcome you as a guest. You may even want to get acquainted, later, with the rest. I am one of 1,073. For now I want you to know more about me, the one you really want to see.

I am twelve years old. You wouldn’t know it if you were not told. I am tall, handsome, and about the color of gold. I have brown eyes and brown hair. Even if I were not handsome, about me you would care. There is more to me than the eyes can behold. If I were not hot, you might think of me as cold. Beneath the surface you will find a wealth of gold.

Wait! Don’t fold.

Again, I am Ton. I am not Ron, Jon, Don, Son, Con, or Mon. I am Ton who likes to have clean fun. I like to rap with rhyme. My teachers say that rap is not in tune with school time. Rap seems to break some traditional English rule. For that reason it is not standard in school. Like you, I have not figured out which rule yet. They have not either, I would be willing to bet. Could it be that they have forgotten the joy of reading Mother Goose and Dr. Seuss?

Rhymes have been around for a long time. Before I was age one, my mother read them to me for fun. Now rhyme is part of me. I grew up on rhyme, can you see? It is the key that opens my eyes to see and understand the world with glee. Some think that by age twelve, rhyme has lost its touch. I say the feel of rhyme adds much to life, school, and such.

Rap enhances standard learning. It is a medium by which I can fulfill my yearning to express what I am burning to say. It is another rhythmic way.

Could it be that they do not know? Could this way be too complex for some adults to show? As in the board meeting, they may fear that rap will change their yesterday or their tomorrow. Like computers, video games, and virtual reality, rather than embrace them, they may be viewed as part of their sorrow.

Excuse me, there is contention. Perhaps I forgot to mention that now I am in Mr. Scott’s class with inattention. I may get detention and/or possibly suspension if I am guilty of being in another dimension. Absurd? What? It does not seem to matter if my ways of doing things are better. Who wants to hear chitter-chatter or the clatter of kids, unless to flatter?

Once I thought I was being kind when I expressed what was on my mind. I was told that I must unwind any ax I had to grind if I did not want to be left behind. Of course, after last night I may be on a hit list. Still, that was just a gist. It was a gist of what sooner or later must be done. Hey, lighten up. Don’t be hostile. Through it all, I am still having fun.

Seriously, I must focus on my classwork now. If I miss Mr. Scott’s journals, he may have a cow. He gets so excited about the places he has seen. His experiences have made him keener than keen.

I wish I could be more interested in what he says. Maybe I would, if I had traveled a long ways. There are so many places I can’t relate to because I have not been. If I will ever go, I do not know when.

I like Mr. Scott. I like what he teaches. The lessons stick with me like leeches. Yet I dream rather than relate. Involvement must be my fate. I must choose to leave this space, to see the world in Mr. Scott’s place. I will tell a friend, my flame, my ace.

Dear Jana,

Soon, I want to go to distant lands. I can see myself being greeted by marching bands. I will bring back samples of crystal sands. By the way, I will need some extra hands.

Please say you will accompany me when I go. We will make a great team incognito. I will sprout wings for the show. With you, I will soar through the air like a pro. We will go places Mr. Scott may never know.

When you are ready, give me the words. We will sprout wings and fly away like birds.

The One,

Ton

I think of ways of getting the letter to Jana, using any skill. Intercepting the letter would definitely give Mr. Scott a thrill. He would read it aloud to make me feel shame. The class would cheer as if at a game. Then, with demerits, I could not stake my claim in the Knowmore Hall of Fame.

My arms are long. My muscles are strong. Reaching Jana’s desk, however, may require a long prong. Perhaps, an accomplice could pass the letter without notice. There is no taker; no one who could be a faker.

Jana’s desk is the fourth desk, along the fourth row. To her right, I sit in the sixth seat, fifth row. I hope my pitch will not be overthrow.

Be there! I say with a score. There is no time for trouble with Mr. Scott. There has never been any before. Yet distracting the class has gotten others the door.

Classmates around us notice for sure. They are as attracted to distraction as fish to a