Yolonda's Genius Read Free Page A

didn’t make friends easily, but he didn’t make enemies either.
    â€œOh, that was really cool.” The voice at herelbow was manlike, gruff. When she turned, Yolonda was surprised to find herself looking down into a small, pale girl’s face.
    â€œHi. I’m Shirley Piper,” said the man voice. All of this Shirley person was small except for her voice and her large, pale blue eyes whirling behind the thickest glasses Yolonda had ever seen — whirling, yes, and twitching behind the thick lenses.
    â€œYou were really something,” said the Shirley person. “What else do you do?” Then she laughed, a kind of deep, dry ha-ha-ha-hacking laugh.
    â€œI play the piano,” said Yolonda demurely, “mostly classical like Mozart. I get straight A’s.” She stared at the Shirley person. “I look after my kid brother. I do the laundry for our whole family. I can make cake from scratch.”
    Then Yolonda decided to lie. “I do double Dutch.” She watched Shirley’s face for traces of disbelief. None. “I can do Teddy Bear. And ‘Pepper’ — with the right rope turners, of course.”
    Shirley Piper’s eyes whirled admiringly. “That bit about the whales. I loved the narrative you gave Danny about the whales. Did you memorize it or are you a genius?”
    â€œNo,” said Yolonda. She was surprised at the word
narrative
. “I didn’t really memorize that. Ijust
knew
it.” She could barely remember what she’d said to Danny-longlegs — just the image in her head of majestic whales. She checked Shirley out again. “What do
you
do?” she asked.
    â€œOh, I don’t have all your talents,” said Shirley in her gruff voice. “I read a lot, but I barely find enough time to study. My A’s aren’t straight. More like crooked A’s. They sort of hump over the B’s and a C or two.” She ha-ha’d again. “I can’t even turn the ropes for double Dutch.”
    â€œDon’t feel bad,” said Yolonda, suddenly generous. “Turning the ropes correctly is an art — it’s really hard.”
    The bell rang and they both turned hurriedly toward the school.
    â€œYou have to have good rhythm and your partner has to be in sync with you. You know, really good vibes,” hollered Yolonda after Shirley’s scurrying figure. Without looking around, the Shirley person flapped her hand in a wave.
    Well, I’ve impressed one person in this burg at least, thought Yolonda, even if she has a man voice and whirlygig eyes. Even if she is whiter than white.
    She only felt slightly guilty about her lie. She was sure that she could do “Teddy Bear” here among these countrified kids. It looked a lot slower and easier. They didn’t know diddly aboutdouble Dutch in this burg, even though they worked at it. She’d seen black girls here teaching white girls “the ropes.” She wasn’t sure black people and white people could get it together right. And no one here did it like they did back on the streets of Chicago. No one could fly in and out of the whirr-slap of ropes like the Chicago girls, who had never been her friends, who hardly ever let her turn the ropes. No one here had such quick, light feet and legs like hot motor pistons. Yolonda had to admit to herself that “Pepper” was too wildly fast anywhere for someone her size to master. That was a bigger lie.
    She’d told another sort-of lie to the Shirley person. She’d never had good enough vibes with anyone to turn the ropes in perfect rhythm. She was always criticizing her partner before they even started. “You’re too short,” or, belligerently, “You never done this before?”
    Only once had she seen rope turning done in perfect sync. In Chicago. On the playground at recess. The girls had been close in size and they moved their arms in an easy, relaxed way