by Judith Frost

“The next spelling word is friend,” Mrs. Ahmed called out. “A friend loves at all times.” She walked slowly between the rows of desks.

Ben clicked his new silver penlight on and off as he wrote. Suddenly it slipped out of his hand and disappeared over the edge of his desk.

Thunk.

Everyone in the second row looked up as it hit the floor.

Ah, man! Ben saw Mrs. Ahmed start up his row. If he crawled after his penlight now, she might think he was trying to see someone's paper. He'd have to wait until recess.

When the bell rang, Ben shoved his books inside his desk and crawled on the floor. The last time he'd been down here was when he'd dropped a box of colored pencils during art. He'd forgotten how much old gum was stuck under the chair.

Ben circled his desk. The penlight wasn't there.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw Alexi still sitting in his chair, bent over a piece of art paper. Alexi was new. Ben didn't know him too well. Alexi's Russian accent made him sound like someone out of an old spy movie. He sure didn't talk like someone from Quebec.

“Hey! Alexi. Did you see my penlight?” Ben asked. “I dropped it during the spelling test.”

Flinching, Alexi covered his paper with his arms. “Penlight? What is this?”

Ben stood in front of the boy's desk. They were the only two in the classroom.

“You know, my penlight. It's a flashlight. I think it bounced over here. Did you see it?”

“No.” Alexi shook his head, clutching his drawing to his chest.

Ben crossed the room to the door. When he glanced back, he saw Alexi lift his desk lid and look at something inside.

Icy Suspicion

Outside, Ben found his buddy Arun waiting by the skating rink.

“What took you so long?” Arun asked.

“You know that guy, Alexi?” Ben said, stepping onto the rink.

“Yeah.” Arun skated down the ice, stick-handling the puck and passing it back to Ben.

Ben took the puck and circled around.

“I think he took my new penlight. He was acting funny after I asked him if he'd seen it.”

Ben passed the puck, and Arun whacked it against the boards. Other boys began pushing their way onto the ice, pulling on their helmets.

“What do you mean?” Arun asked.

“I dropped it during the spelling test.” Ben stopped, his breath making clouds in the air. “When I went to get it just now, it wasn't there.”

“So? That doesn't mean Alexi took it.”

Ben caught the puck on his stick and sent it flying down the ice. “He must have.”

Arun shrugged. “Maybe he doesn't have much money, so he couldn't buy one, eh?”

Ben peeled his scarf away from his mouth. “Yeah. That's what I think.”

“What are you going to do?” Arun asked, skating slowly.

Brennan shouted from center ice. “Hey! Are we going to pick teams or what?”'

. Ben scowled and turned to Arun. “I don't know yet. But he's not going to get away with it.”

Brennan stood center ice, wearing his Maple Leafs jersey. “OK, guys!” he shouted. “No way are the Crestwood Canucks going to beat us again. Who wants to go in goal? We have to find a better goalie or we're toast.”

Blind Judgment

Ben walked home alone for lunch, his scarf pulled around his face. The windchill was below freezing. All the way home, Ben pictured how Alexi had looked at something in his desk. The more Ben thought, the angrier he felt.

He had a fleeting thought about the verse Mom had read last night. It was a proverb. Something about not getting excited about something before you had all the facts.

“Well, it's mine, and I'm going to get it back!” Ben shouted into the wind.

At home, Ben squirted ketchup on his macaroni and cheese.

“You're quiet,” Mom said. “What's up?”

“Someone stole my penlight!”

Mom put down her fork. “How do you know?”

Ben felt a lecture coming on. “I saw him open his desk and hide something in it.”

Mom was quiet for a few seconds. “You know what I'm going to say.”

“I know. But I saw him . . . sort of,” Ben argued. “He was acting funny. I'm positive it was him.”

“What are you going to do?” Mom sat back in her chair.

“I'm going to get my penlight back!” Ben said.

Ben grabbed his coat and began winding his Montreal Canadiens scarf around his neck. He pulled on his hat and mitts and headed for the door.

“Ben, wait.”

He turned.

“Remember that sometimes you jump to conclusions,” she said. “It's a family weakness, eh?”

She handed him an open Bible.

“Read,” she said, pointing to a highlighted verse.

“It is not good to have zeal without knowledge, nor to be hasty and miss the way.” Ben's voice trailed off. He handed the Bible back to his mom.

“I know, I know, but I'm not going to miss the way,” Ben said, pulling open the door. A blast of icy air hit him.

“Brrrrr!” Mom shivered. “Have a good afternoon.”

Face-Off

When Ben arrived at the schoolyard, he was early. There was almost no one outside-it was too cold to be standing around. Then he noticed Alexi huddled by the door, holding a book between his thick mittens.

“Hi.”

Alexi looked up. A smile flickered across his face.

“Look,” Ben said, scuffing at the packed snow, “I think you know where my penlight is. You put it in your desk, eh?”

“No,” Alexi said. His eyes were wide. “I do not put it in my desk. I do not see penlight!”

Some other kids gathered around. Ben noticed the teacher on duty walking their direction. Ben edged away and joined Arun by the fence.

“That kid is unbelievable,” he said.

The bell rang early on account of the cold, and everyone went inside.

All afternoon, Ben thought about how to get a peek into Alexi's desk. When the bell rang at 3:30, he was ready. He took his time putting his books away, then sauntered over to the boy's desk.

“OK, Alexi,” Ben said. “If you didn't take it, prove it. Open your desk!”

“No! No! Not in my desk. I do not have penlight. Go away.”

Brennan and some other boys crowded around. “Open it, Alexi,” Brennan said. “What are you hiding, eh?”

Alexi lowered his eyes and slowly lifted the lid of his desk. Ben pushed around and looked in. There was very little in his desk. On top of some schoolbooks, sat a stack of pencil sketches. Ben picked one up. It was a woman hanging mittens to dry in front of a fire.

“Who is it?” Ben asked.

Alexi did not look up. “My mother.”

“It's really good,” Ben said. He picked up the rest of the sketches and flipped through them. They were mostly of Alexi's mother, and some of a younger child.

Alexi glanced around nervously. “I did not want you to laugh,” he said. He swallowed. “She is in hospital. I like to have pictures.”

“Baby,” Brennan whispered.

“No!” Ben said sharply. “Stop it. His mom is sick.”

Brennan shrugged and walked away.

Just then Mrs. Ahmed came back into the room.

“Let's go, boys. Put your chairs on the desks, please.” She stopped when she saw Alexi's face.

“Everything OK?”

Ben cleared his throat. “I just lost my new penlight,” he said. “I thought Alexi might have found it.”

Mrs. Ahmed nodded. “Was it silver?”

“Yes.”

She pulled something from her pocket. “Is this it?”

Ben stared.

“It rolled under my desk during the spelling test,” she said.

Ben took the penlight from her hand but didn't move. Mrs. Ahmed left the room, leaving Ben and Alexi alone.

It is not good to have zeal without knowledge. The words circled around and around in Ben's head. < i>Nor to be hasty . . .

Ben turned to see him bowed over his desk, hands covering his head.

“I'm sorry,” Ben said.

He didn't know what else to say. He grabbed his parka and walked past the guys playing hockey. He went straight home.

Team Player

The next morning he found Alexi reading his book in his usual place outside the door. The sun was shining, but it was still too cold to stand still. Ben shuffled from one foot to the other.

“Hey.”

Alexi looked up, wary.

“You ever played hockey?” Ben asked.

A change came across Alexi's face, and he stood up straighter. “Yes! I am the-” He paused, face flushed. “I play goal,” he said. “I am . . . pretty good.” A sudden smile lit his face.

Ben nodded. He jerked his head toward the rink where Brennan and the other guys were practicing. “Next week we play the Crestwood Canucks,” Ben said. “If we don't find a better goalie, they'll cream us.”

He stood, holding his breath. It wasn't easy to be the one doing the asking. He thought maybe he knew how Alexi felt.

Alexi shut his book and looked toward the rink. Then he looked at Ben, a glint in his eyes. “Hah! No trouble!” he said. “We show Canucks.”

Ben grinned and let the air out of his lungs. “Cool!” Ben had the feeling that this time he had found the right way.

	Q: What kind of animal has the most fleas? A: A flea-line. Carly R.,12, Ohio Clubhouse Jr. Click here to subscribe