Simple Acts

The only thing worse than being chased by a dancing tiger through a school cafeteria is being woken from a fitful sleep by an over enthusiastic alarm clock. At least, that’s what Ashley Taylor thought as she slammed her hand onto the pink beeping box. She rolled back onto her pillow with a groan, squeezing her eyes shut. Oh, how she wished she could just go back to sleep. But the dancing tiger appeared again as soon as her eyes closed, and she opened them again. No, that wasn’t an option either.

She slowly sat up and stretched. Her door suddenly creaked open, and her dad peered inside. He always served as her alarm’s backup.

“Good, you’re up. Mom is almost done with breakfast.”

He gave her a smile that she did not return, but he didn’t seem to notice. The door was already closing behind him. She threw off her soft blankets and immediately shivered. Twenty minutes later, she clambered down the stairs dressed in her comfy pink pants and a matching t-shirt with crayons and paintbrushes printed all over it. She’d tied her thick hair back with a pink ribbon, but strands were already falling out.

She sat at the table where a steaming pile of chocolate chip pancakes were waiting for her. As she drizzled the syrup, her mom smiled at her.

“Good morning, Ashley. Ready for school today?”

Her tone seemed overly optimistic, which made Ashley feel more glum, partially out of spite. She didn’t see anything particularly good about this morning or any other morning for that matter. Not since Sydney moved.

She looked at the empty chair beside her as she forked a chocolaty bite into her mouth. Her mom frowned at her.

“Thinking about Syd again?” she asked.

Ashley nodded, and her mother let out a long breath.

“Ash, we’ve talked about this. I know it’s hard that she’s gone, but you can’t spend the rest of your days in a grumpy frump. You’re not going to make any new friends if you’re grouchy all the time.”

“Good. I don’t want any new ones,” Ashley replied coolly. She eyed her mom as she sipped her glass of milk. “No one can ever replace Sydney.”

Her mom dropped the conversation after that when the baby started wailing in the next room over. Mom hurried to get him. Ashley was rushed through the rest of her breakfast by Dad, and she hurried into the car before they were late. As she climbed into the minivan, Ashley couldn’t help but think it was a pretty rotten start to her lousy morning.

Aiden Rhodes frantically hopped down the hallway, still half in and half out of bed. His hair was still tousled, his sheets wrapped around his middle, and his t-shirt was on backward. He tripped over the shoe he was attempting to jam onto his foot and rolled to an aching stop at the end of the hallway. His older brother Derek appeared above him with a wide smile plastered on his face.

“Don’t you start,” Aiden said, pointing upward then letting his hand drop back down the floor with a thump. He wriggled out of the tangled sheets and finished putting on his shoes before standing.

“Come on, Squirt,” Derek said, stepping past him. “We can’t be late again.”

“I’m coming!” Aiden huffed, throwing the mess of sheets into the nearest bedroom. He grabbed his backpack on his way out the door and climbed into the rattling truck, Derek behind the wheel.

While they backed out of the driveway, the truck jolted and bumped. Aiden struggled with the seat belt. When he finally jammed the buckle closed, he slumped backward into his seat and let out a long breath.

“Defeat the dragon, did you?” Derek asked, sending him a cheeky grin. Aiden rolled his eyes but couldn’t avoid a small smile. “Oh, don’t forget to hurry after school. We have to get to the store before the basketball game tonight.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Aiden replied. Derek glanced at him, reading a slight change in his brother’s tone. He fell silent for a moment as he turned right onto the next road and merged into a busy lane.

“So, how’s school been anyway?” he ventured. Aiden snorted, and Derek glanced at him again. “That good, huh?”

“It’s just—well—I don’t know.”

“Caleb’s not picking on you again, is he?”

“No—not me anyway,” Aiden replied quietly. He looked at Derek who gave him the look. “I know,” he said before Derek could speak. “It’s just nice that he’s off my back for a change.”

“So who’s the new target?”

“I don’t really know. Just some kid in the class across from mine.”

Aiden fell silent, suddenly realizing how selfish he sounded. Derek let the realization sink in and let the conversation go. As they pulled into the car line, Derek turned to Aiden.

“I’m not saying you should sock the bully in the jaw, but it sounds like this new kid might need a friend or two.”

Aiden looked out the window and stared at the kids entering the school. He thought about his big brothers. This new kid might not have anyone to help him like Aiden did. Derek continued to drive through the line of cars and parked in front of the school. Aiden gathered his backpack in his arms and slid out of the truck onto the sidewalk. As he closed the door, Derek rolled down the window and shouted:

“Have a good day, Squirt!”

Aiden smiled and waved before turning on his heel and merging into a crowd of sullen students. Derek paused and watched for a moment, taking note of how all the students seemed to be dragging their feet as they entered the building. Even the teachers looked tired and disinterested in starting another long day of teaching. Derek let out a long breath as he inched the truck through the rest of the line.

D.J. Jones squirmed in his seat as the bus rattled to a lurching stop. He flew forward, catching himself on the seat in front of him. Loud sniggers erupted behind him, but he did his best to ignore them.

“Everyone out!” grunted Mr. Phelps from his perch behind the large steering wheel. D.J. threw on his backpack but pushed himself further into the seat as the rest of the kids filed off the bus. A particularly large boy with spiky brown hair, wearing a backpack patterned with skulls, leaned on D.J.’s seat with a leering smile. D.J. stared up at him and swallowed hard. It was The Tank.

“H-hey Caleb,” he whispered.

“Hey, Shorty,” The Tank’s frightening smile only grew. He straightened and waved his arms as if to present the bus’s aisle to him. “After you.”

D.J. stayed where he was. The last thing he wanted was to have The Tank in the perfect position to steal his lunch money. Mr. Phelps smashed a fist onto the horn and bellowed over the shoulder.

“GET MOVING!”

The shout startled D.J. to his feet. He shuffled past The Tank and hurried to the front of the bus. He kept his eyes down, avoiding the driver’s narrowed eyes. As soon as he made it to the sidewalk, he slipped into the crowd and wove his way through to the door, leaving Caleb behind. He hurried to his classroom, panting as he finally stopped at the doorway. He was safe.

He walked in, immediately bumping into two girls on his way to his desk. He mumbled an apology and shuffled away, leaving them scowling after him. It was going to be a long day.

By the time morning recess came around, Ashley was only too happy to escape Mrs. Fog’s withering gaze and barking commands. Her classmates raced around her toward the swings, but she walked slowly to a picnic table, her sketchbook under her arm. As she opened the book to a fresh page, she withdrew a pencil from her pocket. While she drew, she periodically glanced around the busy playground.

She noticed a boy swishing baskets on the small basketball court nearby. She paused her work, watching him closely for several minutes. She recognized him as a student in the classroom across from hers. He was shorter than her, and his skin was several shades darker than her own. But as he made basket after basket, she couldn’t help but admire him. The blue and white ball he was using was old and worn, and she guessed that it was one he brought from home. By the careful way he handled the object, she could tell it was special to him.

She turned her attention back to her drawing, changing her mind on her subject. She sent frequent glances in the boy’s direction, the scene slowly appearing on her snowy white paper. On her tenth glance, her heart seemed to fall into her stomach, making it twist nervously. Approaching the basketball hoop was none other than Caleb Smith. He was easily twice the size of every kid outside, and Ashley had heard that he was really supposed to be in fourth grade instead of third. He now stood over the small boy, accompanied by his usual gang of friends. Ashley was too far to hear what Caleb was saying, but she had a pretty good guess. Before she could blink, the ball was gone from the boy’s hands and spinning through Caleb’s fingers. She frowned.

The only thing she hated more than Syd moving away was a bully. As she contemplated going to the boy’s rescue, she hesitated. Caleb was really tall. At least six inches taller than her, she guessed. And the other three boys with him seemed just as snot-nosed and cruel as he was. They all looked too pleased at the smaller boy’s failed attempts at retrieving the basketball.

Ashley watched, a fire suddenly sparking in her eyes. She slammed her sketchbook shut and stormed over.

Aiden laughed as Timothy and Steve lay sprawled in the grass. His friend’s attempt at a cartwheel had gone horribly wrong, resulting in knocking Steve over when he was in the middle of a handstand. Now both boys lay in a tangled heap on the ground, leaving Aiden and Renee in a fit of laughter.

“Get off,” Steve mumbled, pushing on Timothy’s legs. Renee jumped in to help the boys untangle themselves while Aiden glanced around the playground. His attention suddenly snapped to the basketball court, and he surveyed the commotion in surprise. Caleb was in the middle of a heated argument. That wasn’t surprising. Of all the grumpy people in this dreaded school, Caleb was their king who seemed to tax everyone on their happiness, leaving everyone drained and despondent. What did surprise Aiden was who Caleb was arguing with.

It was a girl.

She was standing between the bully and a boy who was staring at her in stunned silence. The rest of Caleb’s goons were also silent, clearly unsure of how to respond. Aiden watched, his conscious tugging him toward the commotion. But before he could move, Timothy spoke.

“Looks like Caleb’s found D.J. again.”

“Well, at least it’s not you this time, Timmy,” Renee said. “Come on, let’s go to the slides.”

She and Timothy raced to the playground. Steve tapped Aiden’s shoulder.

“Come on,” he said. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Aiden looked at him, the corners of his mouth turned down in a perplexed expression. He turned back to the scene, unable to will himself toward the slides, even after Steve left. He kept thinking about what Derek had told him that morning.

I’m not saying you should sock the bully in the jaw, but it sounds like this new kid might need a friend or two.

Aiden let out a long breath and walked toward the basketball court.

D.J. stared up at his rescuer, unable to speak. Never in a million years did he ever expect help from the beautiful Ashley Taylor. He noticed her on his first day, remembering the pang of disappointment he’d felt when she walked into the fifth-grade classroom opposite his own. But now here she was standing next to him,—shouting at The Tank, no less.

“He’s a better player than you anyway!” she was saying. “You have no right to be so mean to him.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” The Tank taunted coolly, clearly still confident in his control of the situation. Ashley’s face was flush with anger.

“Just give him back the basketball.”

Her voice wavered, and D.J. guessed it was more from anger than fear. The Tank just gave her a leering smile as he spun the ball above his head. D.J. swallowed hard. He knew he shouldn’t have brought it to school. Now he might never see his favorite ball again. And by the way The Tank kept glancing at the book tucked under Ashley’s arm, D.J. had a sick feeling that this was going to turn out badly for both of them. The Tank tossed the ball to one of his buddies and snatched the sketchbook from Ashley so fast, D.J. barely had time to blink.

Ashley yelped in surprise and swung for the book, but The Tank held it just out of reach.

“Hey!” she protested, less confident now. “Give that back!”

The Tank ignored her and started to leaf carelessly through the pages. D.J. glimpsed colorful drawings of butterflies, flowers, and cats. Each one was carefully constructed with vivid colors and overwhelming talent. The Tank laughed boisterously as he found her most recent creation.

“Got a new crush, Taylor?” he asked.

“Stop it!” she fumed. “That’s not yours!”

She jumped for the book, but The Tank held it high over her head. D.J. glared at him, but he still felt too small to be of much help.

“HEY!”

They all turned to see another boy approaching. D.J. didn’t recognize him, but he could tell The Tank did.

“Rhodes!” The Tank said, throwing his arms open as if he were greeting an old friend. “It’s been a while.”

“Give them back,” the new boy ordered, completely disregarding The Tank’s wide grin. At the sound of his firm, commanding tone, The Tank’s grin vanished.

“Now, why would I do that?” he asked, running a thick finger over Ashley’s most recent drawing. His fingers closed around the edges of the page and—to D.J.’s horror—ripped the page. Ashley let out a startled yelp, and the new boy rocketed forward, knocking hard into The Tank’s stomach. Before he had time to think, D.J. jumped and snatched the sketchbook from The Tank’s fingers. The moment his feet hit the ground, he bolted away, leaving a stunned bully behind. Ashley and the boy raced after D.J., stopping as soon as they reached the opposite side of the playground. D.J. handed the book to Ashley, his face burning as she smiled at him.

“Thank you,” she said. She turned to the boy who, to D.J.’s surprise, was holding his basketball. “You showed up in the nick of time, Aiden. And you gave Caleb the shock of his life.”

Aiden rubbed his shoulder as a hesitant smile appeared on his face.

“Do you think he’s OK?” he asked, looking back toward the basketball court.

“Who cares?” Ashley replied, shrugging. “He got exactly what he deserved.”

She was beaming now, and D.J. caught himself staring. She turned her attention to him as Aiden tossed him the ball.

“Thanks,” D.J. said slowly, looking between them. His head was still spinning. “You didn’t have to help,” he told them quietly. Ashley and Aiden shared a look.

“Sure we did,” she said, hugging her sketchbook to her chest. “Caleb’s been picking on you for long enough. And he only goes for the loners.”

“Right,” Aiden agreed as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Stick with us, OK? We’ll be like—um—the three musketeers!”

For the first time all day, D.J. smiled.

Ashley swirled the peas around her lunch tray as Aiden and D.J. sat across from her at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria. The students generally kept their conversations at a low whisper, occasionally shooting glances at the teachers who would send harsh looks to those they believed to be too noisy. Ashley smiled at the boys, still somewhat surprised to suddenly have two friends when that morning she’d been against having any.

She noticed several students were sending confused looks in Aiden’s direction when he’d walked past them, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention.

Aiden and D.J. started eating in silence, not too sure what to say. Ashley spooned some mashed potatoes in her mouth, offering them both a smile as she did so.

“Thanks for sitting with me,” she started, her eyes darting in quick surveillance of the room. She lowered her voice as if telling a secret. “I’ve gotten a little tired of sitting by myself.”

“Me too,” D.J. offered quickly. “But I’m just glad that The Tank didn’t steal my lunch money today. I’m starving!”

Ashley looked at Aiden, who seemed to keep glancing at a table nearby.

“You could have sat with them, you know,” she said, snapping his attention back to her. “I know they’re your friends.”

“Yeah, but they’ll be fine,” Aiden said. “Nothing’s stopping them from coming over here. Besides, I figured you guys might be more fun. Everyone seems so crabby everywhere else.”

“I know what you mean. Mrs. Fog yelled at us again today. I don’t really remember why,” Ashley mentioned.

“So did my bus driver,” D.J. said, visibly shuddering at the memory. “It’s like everyone’s forgotten how to be nice to each other.”

The trio fell silent, all contemplating D.J.’s words.

“Well, I think our teachers are just tired. They have to be here longer than the rest of us every day,” Aiden said, thinking about how grumpy his brother could get when he had to work late shifts at the gym after school. Ashley’s eyes suddenly lit up as an idea struck.

“What if we helped them out? You know—we could do something nice for them,” she said.

“How?” both boys asked.

“I don’t know, but we could think of something.”

Aiden and D.J. still looked hesitant. Ashley sighed and opened her sketchbook. She opened to a fresh page, eager to start brainstorming.

Aiden was still thinking about Ashley’s ideas when he was lying in bed that night. He stared up at the ceiling splattered with glow-in-the-dark stars and reached for his stuffed tiger. He hadn’t needed it in a while, but he always did his best thinking with Mr. Stripes by his side. Ashley had been so excited to draw a picture for Mrs. Fog. But he and D.J. still hadn’t been sure what they could do. Aiden still wondered if this was even a good idea. What difference could three fifth graders make?

He turned over and looked at the corner of his bedroom, suddenly remembering the night Derek had built them a fort and protected him from the monsters that lived under his bed. He suddenly understood that what his brother had done was small, but it made all the difference in the world. He hugged a tattered Mr. Stripes, suddenly getting an idea. Finally able to put the matter to rest, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Early the next morning, he bounded into Derek’s room. The curtains were still drawn, and the teenager snored in a sprawled position under the massive quilt. Aiden shook Derek who sat up with a startled snort.

“I didn’t start the fire!” he said. Aiden laughed.

“Relax, it’s just me. Can you get me to school early today?”

Derek rubbed his eyes and looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand. He looked back at Aiden like he’d just grown a second head.

“You know it’s 4:30, right?” he asked, but his look softened when he saw the look in Aiden’s eyes. “All right,” he agreed, throwing off the covers. “But it’s a good thing Mom and Dad are gone at a conference, or else they’d think we’d gone insane,” he said, smiling like they’d just shared an important secret. “Come on. Let’s get some breakfast.”

Aiden and Derek arrived at the school so early, the car line hadn’t even started yet. They pulled up to the front doors, and Aiden unbuckled his seat belt, his heart pounding in his chest. Derek gave him a proud look as he handed him a large cup.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked. Aiden nodded. “All right. I’ll see you after school.”

Aiden slipped out of the truck, gripping the cup tightly as he approached the glass doors. He rang in at the office where a surprised Mrs. Rose greeted him.

“Good morning, Aiden,” she said. “What brings you here so early?”

“Good morning,” he answered, his palms sweating. “Is Ms. Harper here yet?”

“Yes, I believe she’s already in her classroom.”

“OK. Is it all right if I go see her?” he asked slowly.

“Of course,” Mrs. Rose said. “Go right ahead.”

Aiden thanked her and slowly made his way through the dark halls to the fifth-grade classrooms. Several teachers were already there, all looking tired and even a little sad. Aiden bit his lower lip, suddenly unsure if this was a good idea after all. But he walked steadily onward as if his feet had made the decision for him. He stopped at the doorway of the classroom and saw Ms. Harper hunched over her desk, staring at her computer.

He walked in further, swallowing hard. She suddenly looked up, surprised to see him.

“Oh, Aiden. What brings you here so early?” she asked. Aiden stopped by her desk and held out the large cup.

“I brought you some coffee,” he said slowly. “And I’d like to help you get the classroom ready for the day.”

She stared at him, unable to keep the shock from her face. She slowly took the cup and took a sip. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“A peppermint mocha?” she asked, and he nodded.

“You’d mentioned it was your favorite,” he said, growing warm from the look she was giving him. For the first time in several weeks, she smiled at him. Really smiled. Aiden smiled back. “Now, what can I do to help?”

D.J. fidgeted nervously in his seat, eager for the bus to finally stop at the school. He pressed his back against the seat, twisting the wrinkled top of a paper bag in his hands. His mom had been thrilled when he told her about his new friends and the mission they charged themselves with. She’d taken him to the store immediately for the small gift that he now held in his hands.

When the bus finally rolled to a stop, Mr. Phelps barked for the kids to get off. They filed off silently, and D.J. waited. He wanted to go last. He jumped up quickly behind The Tank, who’d been ignoring him all morning, and reached into the brown paper bag. As he reached the front, he stopped next to Mr. Phelps. The old man scowled at him.

“What do you want, Jones?” he asked. D.J. suddenly wondered if this was a good idea after all. But he quickly pushed away his fear and held out a chocolate glazed donut.

“Thank you for driving us to school today,” he said. Mr. Phelps squinted at him, surveying D.J. as if he were handing him a large spider instead of a sugary treat. D.J. kept smiling, unwilling to back down now. The bus driver slowly took the donut.

“Thanks, kid,” he said gruffly, but D.J. saw a ghost of a smile creeping onto the man’s face.

“See you later!” D.J. said and skipped down the steps. The Tank was standing on the sidewalk. It looked like he was waiting for him. But before he could speak, D.J. pulled a second donut out of the bag and shoved it into The Tank’s hands. “Good morning, Caleb!” he said and darted away, leaving a stunned Caleb behind.

That morning at recess, the Three Musketeers met at a picnic table to give their reports. Ashley was beaming.

“Mrs. Fog loved the picture I gave her. She posted it on the wall by her desk, and she was smiling all morning,” she told them, and after the boys had relayed their reports, she squealed with excitement. “See? It’s working already!”

Aiden was staring at D.J. in surprise.

“You gave The Tank a donut?”

D.J. nodded.

“And he’s actually been, well, nice,” he said slowly. “I mean, he hasn’t tried stealing my lunch money.”

“That’s it!” Ashley said, startling them both with her enthusiasm. “We can’t just focus on our teachers and Mr. Phelps. We have to get everyone else involved!”

“How are we supposed to do that?” Aiden asked flatly, the idea of the task daunting him.

“Well, we can get your other friends on board,” she suggested.

“I don’t know if Steve, Timmy, and Renee will want to,” Aiden said slowly.

“Well, it’s worth a try,” D.J. said, catching some of Ashley’s enthusiasm for himself.

“D.J.’s right,” Ashley said, calming down a little, but her eyes were sparkling. “The three of us can only sprinkle kindness. But everyone else can make it pour!”

Aiden smiled at her creative analogy, warming up to the idea. It wasn’t going to be easy. He knew that just as well as anyone. But it was worth a try. He looked between Ashley and D.J. as he gave them a wide grin. Besides, who ever said he had to do it alone?