The Year of Billy Miller (4 page)

Before school, Billy gathered the following: a nickel, a dime, a quarter, a paper clip, a safety pin, and a nail. Each of these things was silver in color and each would be a gift for Ms. Silver. Billy wanted one thing more, something better somehow, something important, to add to his collection. When he was sitting on the edge of his bed putting on his shoes, he found it.

On his desk, beside his rubber band ball and his gold soccer trophies, were his three silver animals—a bear, a dog, and a rabbit. The animals had been Mama’s when she was a girl and they’d been on Billy’s desk for as long as he could remember. The rabbit will be perfect, he thought, recalling that Ms. Silver had noted in her letter that this was the Year of the Rabbit. He picked it up, turned the little thing in his hand. It was only an inch and a half high. Billy shoved the rabbit into his pocket with his other silver things.

His plan was to leave the silver items on Ms. Silver’s desk. The gifts would be a way to show her that he was a nice person. He didn’t think he could find the words to explain to her what he’d been doing with the red markers. He hoped this gesture would take care of the situation.

“Ned’s here!” called Papa.

Billy bounded downstairs.

It was a foggy morning. Sal was standing at the front window with Raindrop, gazing out at the murkiness that pressed against the house. “Oh well,” she said matter-of-factly. “There’s nowhere to go today. Everything’s gone.” She shrugged and walked away from the window. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

“It’s so cool out there,” said Ned. He was just inside the door. “You can barely see.”

“Now don’t get lost,” joked Papa. “And have a good day,” he added, lightly squeezing Billy’s shoulder as he slipped past him.

Billy and Ned were out the door in a flash, but Billy took his first steps through the dense air as if he were walking on dangerous ground.

“Maybe we
will
get lost,” said Ned with glee.

“Maybe we’ll end up in Lake Michigan,” said Billy.

They ended up at school. The first person Billy saw on the playground was Emma. Because it was so foggy, she was just a few feet away when she made her presence known. Her cheeks were flushed. Like the day before, her sweater was tied around her waist. She held the empty sleeves in her hands, twirling them. She came right up to Billy and Ned and said, “Don’t forget—you’re in second grade. That’s the grade after first.” Then she dropped her sleeves and ran away.

“Hamster on the loose!” yelled Billy. And he and Ned chased after Emma. But they didn’t really know what they’d do if they caught her, so they changed course. Around and around the foggy playground they ran until it was time for class.

Billy couldn’t concentrate on schoolwork. His mission filled his mind. He wondered when he should put the silver things on Ms. Silver’s desk. And how would she know they were from him? Should he write a note that said “From Billy Miller”? He hadn’t worked that part out.

Ms. Silver had been talking about different habitats. While she talked, she pointed to posters on the bulletin board labeled
THE OCEAN
and
THE RAIN FOREST
and
THE PRAIRIE
. Then she talked about the different names for the specific places animals live, their homes. She mentioned nests and webs and caves and dens and burrows.

She crossed the room to the cabinet in the corner and came back to the center of the room with a nest. A robin’s nest. She carried the nest to each table, with both hands, low, so that everyone could see it.

When she came to Billy’s table, she leaned forward and extended the nest across the tabletop as if she were offering a bowl of snacks. Billy’s eyes went right to Ms. Silver’s chopsticks, which were mere inches from him. Then he tried to catch her eye and smile at her, but she was focused on the nest.

Next the students were told to write or draw in their journals.

“Share your thoughts about habitats,” said Ms. Silver. “Draw where you’d like to live if you were an animal.”

“Under the sea,” said Ned, reaching for the bin of markers. “I get the blue ones.”

“A castle for me,” said Emma. “With lots of pink towers.”

“That’s not a habitat,” said Billy.

“It is if you’re a royal mouse,” said Emma.

Grace didn’t say anything, but she began a pencil drawing of the most intricate, delicate web Billy had ever seen.

Billy picked up a black marker because he was in a black mood. He just sat, staring at the blank journal page.

“What are you doing?” said Emma.

“Nothing,” said Billy.

“As usual,” said Emma.

Billy gripped the marker fiercely and covered a page in his journal with black scribbles, leaving space at the top to write:
Inside of Cave
. He added:
Bat Habitat
, after looking to the bulletin board to see how to spell habitat. He wasn’t a great speller. But now he could add
habitat
to the list of words he knew how to spell. He realized that it was one of those words that was spelled exactly as it sounded, even though it was a big word.

When the bell rang signaling the start of morning recess, everyone but Billy sprang up and quickly formed a ragged line at the front of the classroom. Billy lagged behind. He pretended to look for something under his chair. He thought he could wait until everyone had left the room, then place the silver things on Ms. Silver’s desk unnoticed.

“Come on,” Ned called in a loud whisper.

Billy ignored Ned and scrambled around on the floor.

“Everyone—listen,” said Ms. Silver. “Go to your locker if you need a jacket. Then you may go outside.” She was moving toward Billy. “Do you need help?” she asked in a private voice.

“No.” Billy scooted under the table. He stared at the tile floor. He didn’t know what to do.

Ms. Silver must have seen Billy’s journal, because she said, “Are you a bat? Is that your cave?” She pulled a chair aside. “Come out of your cave, bat.”

Billy moved out from under the table and stood. He glanced around. It was only the two of them. He was alone in Room 2 with Ms. Silver. He wished he were home with Papa and Sal.

“Are you feeling okay?” asked Ms. Silver.

Billy tried to nod, but his head and neck felt glued in place.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

Billy wriggled his hand into his pocket and pulled out his silver things. The nail got caught and made a little rip in his pocket. His hand was clammy. “Here,” he said. “These are silver like your name.”

Ms. Silver took the items and held them in both hands the way she’d held the nest. “Are these for me?” she asked.

Billy inclined his head shyly and softened his voice to a whisper. “I’m really a nice person,” he said. He couldn’t look at her, but he could feel her eyes upon him like a net. His heart was thrumming.

“I can tell you’re a nice person,” she said.

Billy sighed.

“A very nice person.”

Billy felt great relief.

“Tell me about this rabbit,” said Ms. Silver.

“It was my mama’s when she was little,” Billy began. “I thought you would like it because it’s the Year of the Rabbit.”

“Does your mama know you brought it to school?”

“Oh, it’s okay,” said Billy. “It’s mine.”

“I
do
like it, but I think you should keep the rabbit,” said Ms. Silver. “I think you should keep the coins, too. But I can always use a paper clip. And a safety pin. And I should probably keep the nail, too. I’m glad it didn’t poke you.”

“I think it tore my pants a little.”

During their conversation, Billy’s eyes would flit up at Ms. Silver, but when he spoke he cast them downward.

“Here you are,” said Ms. Silver. She placed the coins and the rabbit in his hand. “And thank you.”

When, after a brief silence, he had the courage to look at her, really look at her, he did so with a kind of curiosity at first. He saw her differently, somehow, and suddenly, unexpectedly, he found it natural and easy to ask, “Do you think I’m smart enough for second grade?”

“Oh, Billy. Absolutely. Yes.” She paused. “Are you worried about something?”

He told her his story—about falling—and he showed her his lump.

“Your bump is nearly gone,” said Ms. Silver.

“The doctor said when I fell I protected myself.”

“Well, that was smart of you,” said Ms. Silver in a voice that was clear and kind. “You
are
very smart.”

Billy blinked, as if by doing so he could replay Ms. Silver’s last remarks.

The doctor in Minnesota had said Billy was
lucky
. But Ms. Silver had just said that he was
smart
.

Smart.

That one word said in Ms. Silver’s voice made him feel as if he were filled with helium like a balloon and might rise off the floor.

“If you go quickly, you’ll still have some time for recess,” said Ms. Silver. “And, thank you for my silver things.”

“I like your chopsticks,” Billy said over his shoulder as he hurried out of the room.

When he got outside, he couldn’t believe it—the fog had lifted; the sun had burned through the damp air. Everything was bright. Sharper. He spotted Ned and some other kids in a cluster at the far end of the playground. He rushed toward them.

He couldn’t help smiling, even as he ran. He doubted he’d tell anyone about his talk with Ms. Silver. There really was nothing to say—even to Mama and Papa.

“Hey, Ned!” he shouted. He said no more until he reached his friend, but his mind was sending off sparks.

It’s only the second day of school, he thought happily, and my teacher said I was smart.

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