Akeelah and the Bee - James W. Ellison [22]
“Well, I’m supposed to have summer school, but Mr. Welch said workin’ with you could take the place of it.”
“Summer school? Isn’t that for students who fail to perform satisfactorily during the year?”
“Yes,” Akeelah said evasively. “But sometimes it’s for kids who wanna get ahead for next year.”
She smiled, but could tell he wasn’t buying it. His eyes had that steely look that was a little scary.
“Do you have any goals in life?” he said. “Something you feel passionate about?”
“Huh?”
“Goals. What do you want to be when you grow up? A doctor? Lawyer? Stand-up comic? You’re only eleven, but you must have given this some thought.”
“I dunno. The only thing I’m good at is spelling.”
Dr. Larabee studied her again at length.
“Go over there,” he said. “To that plaque on the wall. Read what it says.”
Akeelah hesitated and then walked across the room to a small brown plaque with an engraving on it. She started to read it to herself.
“Aloud,” Dr. Larabee said. “Read it aloud.”
“Uh… ‘Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.’” She frowned before going on, wondering if those words could be true. She had never seen fear that way. Fear diminished you, and it diminished you because it made you face your shortcomings. She was sure of it, and yet…. She continued to read: “‘We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be those things? Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same.’”
She looked at Dr. Larabee, wondering what he would say, what he would ask her, how she would respond.
“It’s a quote from Marianne Williamson’s book A Return to Love. Does it mean anything to you?” he said.
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, Akeelah. It’s written in plain English. What does it mean? You’re an intelligent girl. Use your intelligence.”
“That I’m not supposed to be afraid, I guess,” she said.
“Afraid of what?”
“Afraid of… me?”
“You’re close.”
He waved. “Come here.”
She approached his desk, tapping lightly on her thigh.
“This bee, this National Spelling Bee, it’s a tough nut. You don’t have any idea how tough it is. I’ve seen it chew kids up and spit them out. And if you want to get there, you can’t be a shrinking violet. You have to stand up and show people what you can do. All right?”
Akeelah nodded.
“And I’ll brook no nonsense,” he continued. “You show up every day, on time. With no attitude. Otherwise it’s over. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“The quote was telling you that you’re afraid of your potential. You have no need to be. If you work hard your potential will manifest itself, and my guess is, slowly you’ll lose your fear. Think about it.”
Dr. Larabee rose from his desk and said, “We start tomorrow. Nine a.m. sharp. You’re going to learn to visualize words, because words are not ethereal. They’re pictures. Pictures of ideas. And if you can see the picture, you can see the word.”
On the day of Javier’s birthday party, Kiana drove a nicely dressed Akeelah through Woodland Hills. Kiana had borrowed the car, an old red Mustang, from her current boyfriend. Georgia sat in the backseat, and they were listening to rap on the radio while Akeelah monitored the passing house numbers.
“Mama’d trip if she knew I borrowed the car from Maurice. She hates Maurice.”
“Well, you got to admit, Kiana, he’s a little slow on the uptake.”
“I don’t care about that. I don’t need no rocket scientist. He’s a good guy. That means a lot to me after the experiences I’ve had. Anyway, what Mama ain’t gonna know ain’t gonna hurt her.”
“Stop!” Akeelah said suddenly. “Here it is.”
Kiana pulled up to the curb in front of Javier’s house, festooned with balloons. The house was a large white Colonial with four columns, and Georgia whistled. “That’s some crib, girl,” she said, nudging Akeelah. “These folks must be