Praise for

the Bluford Series:

“As soon as I finished one book, I couldn’t wait to start the next one. No books have ever made me do that before.”

— Terrance W

“The suspense got to be so great I could feel the blood pounding in my ears.”

— Yolanda E.

“Once I started reading them, I just couldn’t stop, not even to go to sleep.”

— Brian M.

“Great books! I hope they write more.”

— Eric J.

“When I finished these books, I went back to the beginning and read them all over again. That’s how much I loved them.”

— Caren B.

“I found it very easy to lose myself in these books. They kept my interest from beginning to end and were always realistic.The characters are vivid, and the endings left me in eager anticipation of the next book.”

— Keziah J.

Copyright © 2002 by Townsend Press, Inc.

Printed in the United States of America

9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

of this book may be reproduced without

the written permission of the publisher.

For permission to reproduce more than

one chapter, send requests to:

Townsend Press, Inc.

1038 Industrial Drive

West Berlin, New Jersey 08091

ISBN 0-944210-02-3

Library of Congress Control Number:

2002103950

Chapter 1

Darcy Wills winced at the loud rap music coming from her sister’s room.

My rhymes were rockin’

MC’s were droppin’

People shoutin’ and hip-hoppin’

Step to me and you’ll be inferior

’Cause I’m your lyrical superior.

Darcy went to Grandma’s room. The darkened room smelled of lilac perfume, Grandma’s favorite, but since her stroke Grandma did not notice it, or much of anything.

“Bye, Grandma,” Darcy whispered from the doorway. “I’m going to school now. ”

Just then, the music from Jamee’s room cut off, and Jamee rushed into the hallway.

“Like she even hears you,” Jamee said as she passed Darcy. Just two years younger than Darcy, Jamee was in eighth grade, though she looked older.

“It’s still nice to talk to her. Sometimes she understands. You want to pretend she’s not here or something?”

“She’s not,” Jamee said, grabbing her backpack.

“Did you study for your math test?” Darcy asked. Mom was an emergency room nurse who worked rotating shifts. Most of the time, Mom was too tired to pay much attention to the girls’ schoolwork. So Darcy tried to keep track of Jamee.

“Mind your own business,” Jamee snapped.

“You got two D’s on your last report card,” Darcy scolded. “You wanna flunk?” Darcy did not want to sound like a nagging parent, but Jamee wasn’t doing her best. Maybe she couldn’t make A’s like Darcy, but she could do better.

Jamee stomped out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her. “Mom’s trying to get some rest!” Darcy yelled. “Do you have to be so selfish?” But Jamee was already gone, and the apartment was suddenly quiet.

Darcy loved her sister. Once, they had been good friends. But now all Jamee cared about was her new group of rowdy friends. They leaned on cars outside of school and turned up rap music on their boom boxes until the street seemed to tremble like an earthquake. Jamee had even stopped hanging out with her old friend Alisha Wrobel, something she used to do every weekend.

Darcy went back into the living room, where her mother sat in the recliner sipping coffee. “I’ll be home at 2:30, Mom,” Darcy said. Mom smiled faintly. She was tired, always tired. And lately she was worried too. The hospital where she worked was cutting staff. It seemed each day fewer people were expected to do more work. It was like trying to climb a mountain that keeps getting taller as you go. Mom was fortyfour, but just yesterday she said, “I’m like an old car that’s run out of warranty, baby. You know what happens then. Old car is ready for the junk heap. Well, maybe that hospital is gonna tell me one of these days—‘Mattie Mae Wills, we don’t need you anymore. We can get somebody younger and cheaper. ’”

“Mom, you’re not old at all,” Darcy had said, but they were only words, empty words. They could not erase the dark, weary lines from beneath her mother’s eyes.

Darcy headed down the street toward Bluford High School. It was not a terrible neighborhood they lived in; it just was not good. Many front yards were not cared for. Debris—fast food wrappers, plastic bags, old newspapers—blew around and piled against fences and curbs. Darcy hated that. Sometimes she and other kids from school spent Saturday mornings cleaning up, but it seemed a losing battle. Now, as she walked, she tried to focus on small spots of beauty along the way. Mrs. Walker’s pink and white roses bobbed proudly in the morning breeze. The Hustons’ rock garden was carefully designed around a wooden windmill.

As she neared Bluford, Darcy thought about the science project that her biology teacher, Ms. Reed, was assigning. Darcy was doing hers on tidal pools. She was looking forward to visiting a real tidal pool, taking pictures, and doing research. Today, Ms. Reed would be dividing the students into teams of two. Darcy wanted to be paired with her close friend, Brisana Meeks. They were both excellent students, a cut above most kids at Bluford, Darcy thought.

“Today, we are forming project teams so that each student can gain something valuable from the other,” Ms. Reed said as Darcy sat at her desk. Ms. Reed was a tall, stately woman who reminded Darcy of the Statue of Liberty. She would have been a perfect model for the statue if Lady Liberty had been a black woman. She never would have been called pretty, but it was possible she might have been called a handsome woman. “For this assignment, each of you will be working with someone you’ve never worked with before. ”

Darcy was worried. If she was not teamed with Brisana, maybe she would be teamed with some really dumb student who would pull her down. Darcy was a little ashamed of herself for thinking that way. Grandma used to say that all flowers are equal, but different. The simple daisy was just as lovely as the prize rose. But still Darcy did not want to be paired with some weak partner who would lower her grade.

“Darcy Wills will be teamed with Tarah Carson,” Ms. Reed announced.

Darcy gasped. Not Tarah! Not that big, chunky girl with the brassy voice who squeezed herself into tight skirts and wore lime green or hot pink satin tops and cheap jewelry. Not Tarah who hung out with Cooper Hodden, that loser who was barely hanging on to his football eligibility. Darcy had heard that Cooper had been left back once or twice and even got his driver’s license as a sophomore. Darcy’s face felt hot with anger. Why was Ms. Reed doing this?

Hakeem Randall, a handsome, shy boy who sat in the back row, was teamed with the class blabbermouth, LaShawn Appleby. Darcy had a secret crush on Hakeem since freshman year. So far she had only shared this with her diary, never with another living soul.

It was almost as though Ms. Reed was playing some devilish game. Darcy glanced at Tarah, who was smiling broadly. Tarah had an enormous smile, and her teeth contrasted harshly with her dark red lipstick. “Great,” Darcy muttered under her breath.

Ms. Reed ordered the teams to meet so they could begin to plan their projects. As she sat down by Tarah, Darcy was instantly sickened by a syrupy-sweet odor. She must have doused herself with cheap perfume this morning, Darcy thought.

“Hey, girl,” Tarah said. “Well, don’t you look down in the mouth. What’s got you lookin’ that way?”

It was hard for Darcy to meet new people, especially someone like Tarah, a person Aunt Charlotte would call “low class. ” These were people who were loud and rude. They drank too much, used drugs, got into fights and ruined the neighborhood. They yelled ugly insults at people, even at their friends. Darcy did not actually know that Tarah did anything like this personally, but she seemed like the type who did.

“I just didn’t think you’d be interested in tidal pools,” Darcy explained.

Tarah slammed her big hand on the desk, making her gold bracelets jangle like ice cubes in a glass, and laughed. Darcy had never heard a mule bray, but she was sure it made exactly the same sound. Then  Tarah leaned close and whispered, “Girl, I don’t know a tidal pool from a fool. Ms. Reed stuck us together to mess with our heads, you hear what I’m sayin’?”

“Maybe we could switch to other partners,” Darcy said nervously.

A big smile spread slowly over Tarah’s face. “Nah, I think I’m gonna enjoy this. You’re always sittin’ here like a princess collecting your A’s. Now you gotta work with a regular person, so you better loosen up, girl!”

Darcy felt as if her teeth were glued to her tongue. She fumbled in her bag for her outline of the project. It all seemed like a horrible joke now. She and Tarah Carson standing knee-deep in the muck of a tidal pool!

“Worms live there, don’t they?” Tarah asked, twisting a big gold ring on her chubby finger.

“Yeah, I guess,” Darcy replied.

“Big green worms,” Tarah continued. “So if you get your feet stuck in the bottom of that old tidal pool, and you can’t get out, do the worms crawl up your clothes?”

Darcy ignored the remark. “I’d like for us to go there soon, you know, look around. ”

“My boyfriend, Cooper, he goes down to the ocean all the time. He can take us. He says he’s seen these fiddler crabs. They look like big spiders, and they’ll try to bite your toes off. Cooper says so,” Tarah said.

“Stop being silly,” Darcy shot back. “If you’re not even going to be serious . . . ”

“You think you’re better than me, don’t you?” Tarah suddenly growled.

“I never said—” Darcy blurted.

“You don’t have to say it, girl. It’s in your eyes. You think I’m a low-life and you’re something special. Well, I got more friends than you got fingers and toes together. You got no friends, and everybody laughs at you behind your back. Know what the word on you is? Darcy Wills give you the chills. ”

Just then, the bell rang, and Darcy was glad for the excuse to turn away from Tarah, to hide the hot tears welling in her eyes. She quickly rushed from the classroom, relieved that school was over. Darcy did not think she could bear to sit through another class just now.

Darcy headed down the long street towards home. She did not like Tarah. Maybe it was wrong, but it was true. Still, Tarah’s brutal words hurt. Even stupid, awful people might tell you the truth about yourself. And Darcy did not have any real friends, except for Brisana. Maybe the other kids were mocking her behind her back. Darcy was very slender, not as shapely as many of the other girls. She remembered the time when Cooper Hodden was hanging in front of the deli with his friends, and he yelled as Darcy went by, “Hey, is that really a female there? Sure don’t look like it. Looks more like an old broomstick with hair. ”  His companions laughed rudely, and Darcy had walked a little faster.

A terrible thought clawed at Darcy. Maybe she was the loser, not Tarah. Tarah was always hanging with a bunch of kids, laughing and joking. She would go down the hall to the lockers and greetings would come from everywhere. “Hey, Tarah!” “What’s up, Tar?” “See ya at lunch, girl. ” When Darcy went to the lockers, there was dead silence.

Darcy usually glanced into stores on her way home from school. She enjoyed looking at the trays of chicken feet and pork ears at the little Asian grocery store. Sometimes she would even steal a glance at the diners sitting by the picture window at the Golden Grill Restaurant. But today she stared straight ahead, her shoulders drooping.

If this had happened last year, she would have gone directly to Grandma’s house, a block from where Darcy lived. How many times had Darcy and Jamee run to Grandma’s, eaten applesauce cookies, drunk cider, and poured out their troubles to Grandma. Somehow, their problems would always dissolve in the warmth of her love and wisdom. But now Grandma was a frail figure in the corner of their apartment, saying little. And what little she did say made less and less sense.

Darcy was usually the first one home. The minute she got there, Mom left for the hospital to take the 3:00 to 11:00 shift in the ER. By the time Mom finished her paperwork at the hospital, she would be lucky to be home again by midnight. After Mom left, Darcy went to Grandma’s room to give her the malted nutrition drink that the doctor ordered her to have three times a day.

“Want to drink your chocolate malt, Grandma?” Darcy asked, pulling up a chair beside Grandma’s bed.

Grandma was sitting up, and her eyes were open. “No. I’m not hungry,” she said listlessly. She always said that.

“You need to drink your malt, Grandma,” Darcy insisted, gently putting the straw between the pinched lips. Grandma sucked the malt slowly. “Grandma, nobody likes me at school,” Darcy said. She did not expect any response. But there was a strange comfort in telling Grandma anyway. “Everybody laughs at me. It’s because I’m shy and maybe stuck-up, too, I guess. But I don’t mean to be. Stuck-up, I mean. Maybe I’m weird. I could be weird, I guess. I could be like Aunt Charlotte . . . ” Tears rolled down Darcy’s cheeks. Her heart ached with loneliness. There was nobody to talk to anymore, nobody who had time to listen, nobody who understood.

Grandma blinked and pushed the straw away. Her eyes brightened as they did now and then. “You are a wonderful girl. Everybody knows that,” Grandma said in an almost normal voice. It happened like that sometimes. It was like being in the middle of a dark storm and having the clouds part, revealing a patch of clear, sunlit blue. For just a few precious minutes, Grandma was brighteyed and saying normal things.

“Oh, Grandma, I’m so lonely,” Darcy cried, pressing her head against Grandma’s small shoulder.

“You were such a beautiful baby,” Grandma said, stroking her hair. “ ‘That one is going to shine like the morning star. ’ That’s what I told your Mama. ‘That child is going to shine like the morning star. ’ Tell me, Angelcake, is your daddy home yet?”

Darcy straightened. “Not yet. ” Her heart pounded so hard, she could feel it thumping in her chest. Darcy’s father had not been home in five years.

“Well, tell him to see me when he gets home. I want him to buy you that blue dress you liked in the store window. That’s for you, Angelcake. Tell him I’ve got money. My social security came, you know. I have money for the blue dress,” Grandma said, her eyes slipping shut.

Just then, Darcy heard the apartment door slam. Jamee had come home. Now she stood in the hall, her hands belligerently on her hips. “Are you talking to Grandma again?” Jamee demanded.

“She was talking like normal,” Darcy said. “Sometimes she does. You know she does. ”

“That is so stupid,” Jamee snapped. “She never says anything right anymore. Not anything!” Jamee’s voice trembled.

Darcy got up quickly and set down the can of malted milk. She ran to Jamee and put her arms around her sister. “Jamee, I know you’re hurting too. ”

“Oh, don’t be stupid,” Jamee protested, but Darcy hugged her more tightly, and in a few seconds Jamee was crying. “She was the best thing in this stupid house,” Jamee cried. “Why’d she have to go?”

“She didn’t go,” Darcy said. “Not really. ”

“She did! She did!” Jamee sobbed. She struggled free of Darcy, ran to her room, and slammed the door. In a minute, Darcy heard the bone-rattling sound of rap music.

Chapter 2

“You still up?” Darcy’s mother asked when she got home.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Darcy said.

Mom settled into her recliner. “I need to sit down and catch my breath, baby, before I shower and go to bed. What a night we had. Two boys in critical from drive-bys, a four-car accident on the freeway, a broken neck, plus the usual fevers and chest pains. And then we had a memo from our new administrator—seems like we’re wasting money. ”

Darcy hoped she might get the chance to talk to her mother about the problems at school, and maybe about Jamee’s attitude. Darcy went to get some hot chocolate for them, but by the time she returned, her mother was dozing. “Mom?” Darcy asked softly, but Mom’s even breathing continued. She was exhausted. Darcy did not have the heart to rouse her.

There was so much Darcy wanted to talk about. When Mom was sixteen, was she popular at school? What do you do when you’re a loner and you cannot seem to break out of it? And Jamee. She was worried about Jamee. A few times Darcy saw her riding in a car with some boys from Bluford. Jamee was only in middle school. Those older guys scared Darcy—some were gangster wanna-be’s. One of them, Bobby Wallace, had already been in trouble with the police for something or other. Once, last week, Darcy had tried to talk to her mother about Jamee, but Mom just said, “Oh, she’ll be okay. She’s at that age when kids try to rebel and take things to the extreme. I was lucky with you, praise the Lord. You never went through that phase, Darcy. Your sister is a different story. Y’all have always been as different as night and day. But Jamee’s a smart girl, and she’ll come out of this phase pretty soon. ”

Darcy drank down her hot chocolate and rinsed out the cups, then she headed for her room. She sat on the edge of her bed for a few minutes, staring at the photographs on her dresser. Mom, Grandma, her, and Jamee. There had been older family photographs with Dad included, but they were all hidden away somewhere. Darcy remembered the last photo taken with Dad. It showed eleven-year-old Darcy in braids and blue ribbons, wearing a lovely blue dress with a lacy collar, and Jamee, nine, her big brown eyes bright with mischief. That was taken a few months before Dad left.

It had been harder on Jamee than on Darcy when Dad left. Darcy was closer to Mom, but Jamee was Daddy’s little girl. They went to basketball games together and just seemed to have a companionship that Darcy never had with her father. On a family hike in the Laguna Mountains, Jamee and her father chose a special tree, a giant cedar. One day they stood by their tree, and Dad dubbed Jamee “Princess of the World,” surprising her with a tiny crown for her head. Jamee’s squeals of joy had echoed through the forest that day.

“Why did Daddy leave us?” Jamee had demanded tearfully when it was clear he would not be coming home.

“Leaving was more fun than staying,” Mom had answered bitterly.

Darcy always suspected her mother had seen some warning signs, but to Darcy and Jamee it had been a complete shock. Jamee made up stories for a long time after, trying to explain why her father had left. She had shared them with Darcy. Daddy had a terrible disease, and he did not want to burden his family with it. He had some secret government job that was so dangerous he could not risk being around his family anymore. But, eventually, even Jamee had laughed at her own fantasies. She had grudgingly accepted her mother’s simple explanation—Daddy had found something else that meant more to him than his family. Darcy remembered it was about then that Jamee slowly began to change, to have angry, sad moods, to be cynical.

Darcy went to bed, but she did not sleep for a while. She relived her last meeting with her father, when he took her and Jamee for ice cream on a hot August afternoon. Darcy later figured it was the best way he could manage to say goodbye. Darcy and Jamee were just little girls, so they did not question his heavy step, the way his jaw was set. They were too busy deciding between chocolate chip and strawberry ice cream to pay attention to his odd mumbling. “Nothin’ever happens around here, except I’m getting older. ” He talked about being a teenager in New York and what a happening place it was, about the jazz clubs, and dancing until dawn. “Man grows old too fast around here,” he said. “Gets dead before they put him in the box. ”

The day Dad left, he kissed Darcy, then kissed and hugged Jamee so hard that she giggled and protested. After putting the girls on a trolley home, he had turned and walked away faster than Darcy had ever seen him walk before. Darcy did not think about it then, but now she figured he walked so quickly because he knew what he was doing was wrong. The faster he walked away, the sooner he could escape the truth—that he was abandoning his wife and daughters.

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