The Battle of Jericho Read Free Page B

Take your time. Just keep on practicing. And don’t be afraid to dream beyond where you can see.”
    Jericho wasn’t sure what that meant, but he thanked Mr. Tambori and hurried to the main hall. He knew he had missed his bus.
    Then he saw Josh at the end of the hallway. “Hey, Jericho, want a ride?” Josh yelled. ’I called my dad and he’s on his way to pick me and Kofi up.”
    â€œYeah, man, thanks. Will he drop us by Eddie’s house?”
    â€œThat’s the plan, my man!” Josh had taken off his shoes and was sliding down the slick hall in his socks. Kofi walked behind him, shaking his head.
    â€œYou’re in a good mood, Cuz,” Jericho said cheerfully.
    â€œNo, he’s just crazy,” Kofi explained as he caught up with Josh.
    â€œDad is gonna be so excited,” Josh said as he put his shoes back on. “I’m finally doing something he’ll be proud of.”
    â€œI know what you mean,” Jericho admitted. “Geneva sweats me all the time about my grades and my weight and the clothes I wear and stuff. Maybe she’ll think this is cool.”
    â€œHah! My folks
never
sweat me!” Kofi bragged. “I don’t even have a curfew!” But he turned to the door and added in a quieter tone, “They don’t really care what I do.”
    â€œDon’t you like not having a curfew?” Jericho tried to sound encouraging.
    Kofi picked at a button on his coat. “Hey, no curfew means I’m never late, man. It’s cool with me.”
    They hovered just inside the front doors. The early December winds were frigid—the temperature was barely in the teens. Jericho shivered a little, thinking of what Kofi had just said.
    Just then, Eric Bell, another junior, rolled into the main hall in his motorized wheelchair. His feet, strapped into thefoot pads of the chair, were motionless. Jericho wondered what it felt like never to be able to walk. He had heard that Eric had been injured in some kind of swimming accident a few years ago. Eric’s tennis shoes carried none of the scuffs that everyone else’s shoes had; they looked brand-new. He had his book bag slung around the wheelchair’s back, and he controlled the movement of the chair with a lever on the right arm rest. “Did my bus come yet?” he asked.
    Kofi glanced out the door. “No, man, not since we been standing here.” He looked at Eric’s wheelchair and asked, “Hey, Eric, how do you manage that thing on the ramp in the ice and snow?”
    Eric spun the chair around with skill. “Sometimes it gets pretty rough, but I’m used to it. I’ve been doing this since I was twelve. I remember one time I slid backward down a ramp, flipped my chair over a couple of times, and landed like a turtle on its shell, kicking and cursing!”
    â€œI don’t think I’ve ever heard a turtle curse,” Jericho said, not sure if he should laugh or not.
    â€œI don’t think I’d want to,” added Josh.
    â€œWhat are you guys doing here so late?” Eric asked. “Detentions?”
    Jericho chuckled. “I’ve done my share of detentions, man, but today we’re just waiting for Josh’s dad to pick us up. I hope he’s not late, because we have to get to a meeting called by the Warriors of Distinction,” he asserted proudly. “For the toy drive,” he added.
    â€œOh, is that meeting today? I hadn’t heard.” Eric looked down and fumbled with one of the straps on his chair. Jericho didn’t know what to say.
    â€œHere’s your bus, Eric,” Kofi said finally. “You need some help?”
    â€œNo, I got it. Just hold the door for me.” Eric wheeled out into the cold, down the wheelchair ramp to the left of the front steps—the ramp that many of the students used for skateboarding—and over to the electric lift of his waiting bus. He did not look back at