Make Way for Dyamonde Daniel (4 page)

“I haven’t so far. Back in Detroit, I had my own room.”

“Still. You got a bedroom. That’s something.”

Free shrugged. “I guess.” He was going to complain some more about how crowded it was in his grandma’s tiny apartment, but something told him not to.

When school let out that day,
Dyamonde found Free hanging around the entrance. She headed home and he fell in step with her.

“So you know I like to read,” said Free.

“Me too,” said Dyamonde. “And I like basketball.”

“So do I. And baseball.”

“And handball.”

“Handball?”

“I’ll teach you,” said Dyamonde.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue. Yours?”

“Red. Best color in the universe.”

“I collect marbles.”

“Rocks.”

“You got a home computer?”

“No,” said Dyamonde.

“Me neither.”

“We moved here this summer. You?”

“One month ago.”

“I live with my mom. She and my dad got divorced.”

“I live with my mom, dad, brother and grandmother. We moved here when my dad lost his—oh, that’s right. You already know that.”

Dyamonde smiled. “You’re so lucky,” she said.

“Huh?”

“You have a brother
and
a grandmother. My grandparents are all dead.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. My mom says I’m as stubborn as my grandmother, and just as mouthy. I wish I’d gotten to know her for myself, see if Mom was right. Having grandparents would have been cool.”

“Well,” said Free, “you can share mine. And you can have my brother, Booker. What a pain!”

“That’s what everybody says about their brothers and sisters.
But sometimes, I wish I had one to talk to.”

Free didn’t know what to say to that.

Dyamonde looked up just as they were passing House of Beauty. An old lady sitting under the hair dryer stared at her through the window. Dyamonde waved.

“That’s Ms. Gracie Lee, nosiest person on the block. If you do something and you don’t want your mom to know about it, don’t do it in front of Ms. Gracie. By the time I get home, Mom’ll know I’ve been walking with ‘that Freeman boy.’”

“But how does she know—”

“She knows ev-er-ry-thing,” said Dyamonde.

Next, she waved to a young mother pushing a baby in a carriage, with two more little ones trailing behind. The lady at the flower stand smiled at her, and she nodded at the man at the newsstand who called to her, “Hey there, Dyamonde.”

“You know all these people,” said Free. It wasn’t a question, but his voice was full of wonder.

“Sure. You will too, after a while.”

“I don’t know,” said Free. “We may not be here that long. Depends on my dad. You know. If he finds a job. I mean,
when
he finds a job.”

Dyamonde touched Free’s arm. “He will find a job, Free. I’m sure of it. But my mom says even when he does—”

“She knows about me and my dad? You talk about us?”

“Well, yeah. You’re my friend. Why wouldn’t I?”

Free relaxed, let the word
friend
wash over him.

“Right.”

“Anyway, even when he gets a
job, it might take a while to save up money to move. Plus, maybe he’ll just move you guys to an apartment close by. That way, you can stay in the same school, see? So why not get to know everybody in the neighborhood. You might be here for a long time.”

At least I hope so
, thought Dyamonde. But she kept that thought to herself.

Before she knew it, they had reached her building. She waved good-bye to Free and ran inside.

Every day after
becoming friends with Free, Dyamonde left for school at the same time as everyone else, walking side by side with Free. They ate lunch together, played together in the school yard and even passed funny notes to each other in class.

The last days of September
turned quick as the pages in a good book. October blew in cool, but with her new best friend, Dyamonde hardly felt it.

Dyamonde still missed Alisha, just not all the time anymore. And Free was much less grouchy than he used to be. He stopped growling at everybody and even surprised the teacher one day—in a good way.

It was reading time, and Aaron, the boy in front of Free, had finished reading his paragraph. Mrs. Cordell skipped over Free
because he never wanted to read out loud.

“Dyamonde,” she said. “Could you pick up the next—”

Free raised his hand.

“Yes, Free?” asked Mrs. Cordell. “What is it?”

“Can I read next?”

Kids were poking each other and laughing. Even Mrs. Cordell looked shocked, but she nodded yes.

Turns out, Free could read better than almost anyone! Everybody was surprised. Except for Dyamonde, that is.

“Show-off,” Dyamonde whispered when Free was done. She was smiling when she said it.

That evening, Dyamonde took out her photo album and turned to her favorite picture of Alisha.

“I still miss you,” she said to the picture. “But guess what? I’ve got a best friend here too. His name is Free.”

The next day was Saturday, and Dyamonde knew exactly how she wanted to spend it. She picked up the telephone and dialed Free’s number. Mrs. Freeman answered, then handed the phone to Free.

“Hey, it’s me,” she said when he picked up. “I’m going treasure hunting tomorrow. Want to come?”

“Sure,” said Free.

Dyamonde smiled, happy to have a new adventure to look forward to, and happy to have someone to share it with.

Dyamonde plus Free equals two
, thought Dyamonde.

Even numbers rule!

Born and raised
in New York City,
Nikki Grimes
began composing verse at the age of six and has been writing ever since. She is the critically acclaimed author of numerous award-winning books for children and young adults, including Coretta Scott King Award winner
Bronx Masquerade
, Coretta Scott King Honor winner
The Road to Paris
and
New York Times
bestseller
Barack Obama: Son of Promise, Child of Hope
(illustrated by Bryan Collier). In addition to a Coretta Scott King Award and four Coretta Scott King Honors, her work has received accolades such as the NCTE Award for Excellence in Poetry for Children,
Book-list
Editors’ Choice, ALA Notable, Bank Street College Book of the Year,
Horn Book
Fanfare, American Bookseller Pick of the List, Notable Social Studies Trade Book, NAACP Image Award Finalist, and the Golden Dolphin Award, an award given by the Southern California Children’s Booksellers Association in recognition of an author’s body of work. She lives in Corona, California.

Visit her at
www.nikkigrimes.com
.

Discussion Questions

• In chapter one, we find out that Dyamonde Daniel is exceptionally smart, but her mom tells her to keep it a secret. Then one night she overhears her mom telling someone how smart Dyamonde is. Why do you think that it is okay for her mom to let out the secret but not Dyamonde?

• The new boy is introduced to the class and Dyamonde seems to have a problem with him already, but she doesn’t even know him. What do you know about first impressions? How do you think people perceive you when they meet you for the first time?

• It’s the weekend and Dyamonde is feeling a bit lonely. What are some ways that Dyamonde can get her mind off her old neighborhood and the friends she left in Brooklyn? Have you ever felt lonely? What are some of the things you did to cheer yourself up?

• It’s been two days since Free joined the class. Dyamonde is finding it harder to ignore him. Why do you think she is beginning to notice him a little more? Explain.

• It’s Chicken Nugget Tuesday and Dyamonde has had it with Free. Why do you think she finally decides, “That’s it”? Have you ever wanted to say something to someone because they have treated others so badly?

• Free tries to stay out of Dyamonde’s way, since she seems to catch him whenever he is being rude to others (students, teachers, etc.). But one day, she finally asks Free what his problem is, why he is always mad. After a while, Dyamonde and Free find that they really have a lot in common. Has there ever been a time when you thought you knew a person, but really didn’t know him or her at all? What are some of the things or qualities that changed what you thought you knew about that individual?

• Dyamonde and Free eat their lunches together at school, and everyone notices. Do you think Dyamonde is starting to feel as if she has at least one true friend in the neighborhood as well as at her new school? Why or why not?

Dyamonde and Free
stood in front of a store window.

“I hate being poor,” said Free. “Ever since my dad lost his job, all my mom seems to say is ‘We can’t afford this, we can’t afford that.’”

Dyamonde Daniel would not trade Free for anything. He was her best friend, wasn’t he? But that boy had a lot to learn.

“First off,” said Dyamonde, “I’ve seen you buy lots of things. And second, you are not poor.”

“Then how come I can’t buy that new video game?”

“My mom says everybody wants something they can’t have,” said Dyamonde. “That don’t—doesn’t make you poor.”

“Well, what do you call it, then?”

“Not having money right now,” said Dyamonde.

“Same thing,” grumbled Free.

“No, it isn’t,” said Dyamonde. “Poor is …” Dyamonde thought for a moment. “Poor is having no clothes, and no food, and no place to live, and nobody who cares.”

“I guess,” said Free. “But I still wish I could get that new video game.”

“Well then,” said Dyamonde, “you’d better get to school so you can graduate, so you can get a job, so you can buy your
own
video game.”

“Forget it, then,” said Free.

Dyamonde play-punched him in the arm.

“You call that a punch? You punch like a girl,” said Free.

Dyamonde pulled her arm back and punched him for real this time.