Akeelah and the Bee - James W. Ellison [36]
Dr. Larabee’s expression grew even more stormy. “‘Dissing’? I thought we only used words from the dictionary in here.”
Akeelah returned his glare, then opened the dictionary on his desk and found an entry.
“‘Dis,’” she said. “‘Dissed.’ ‘Dissing.’ To treat with disrespect or contempt. To find fault with.” She slammed the dictionary shut. “New words get added to the dictionary every year.”
Dr. Larabee’s expression slowly turned from angry to thoughtful. “Point accepted. You’ve clearly done your homework—and that’s what you need to continue to do.”
“I know.”
“You can have a life after the spelling bee. You know, I didn’t make it to the National Bee until I was fourteen. I had no help, no training—and I was out by the third round. Now you have an opportunity to win this thing.”
“But all we’ve done for all this time is study words, Dr. Larabee. Why can’t we take a break? Go see a movie or a game? Why can’t we have fun for a change?”
“I told you, Denise, you can have fun after the bee.”
Akeelah stared at him, looking confused. “Who’s Denise?”
“What?”
“You called me Denise.”
Now Dr. Larabee looked rattled. He started to speak but then shook his head and remained silent.
“Dr. Larabee… ?”
He kept looking at her, seemingly sorting out something in his mind. Then he turned away and sat behind his desk with a heavy sigh.
“Are you okay?” Akeelah said.
He kept looking down and said finally, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just fine.” But to Akeelah he looked anything but fine.
He opened his desk drawer and pulled out several long, narrow boxes. He set them down on the desk in front of her.
“Here,” he said. “I spent all last week making these for you.”
“What are they?”
“Flashcards,” he said. “For five thousand new words. The type of words you can expect at the Finals.”
“Five thousand?” she said, and whistled. “But we’re running out of time. What’re you going to do, coach me twenty-four/seven?”
“No,” he said, looking down at his desk. He paused before adding, “You can learn them on your own. I’ve taught you everything I can.”
She approached the desk as his words slowly sank in. “What are you saying? You’re not gonna work with me anymore?”
“You’ve got it all, Akeelah. Word construction. Etymology. Memorization techniques. There’s nothing left to go over. You just need to focus on the words now. I’m putting it in your capable hands.”
“But I can’t learn five thousand new words by myself. No way!”
“Of course you can. You’ve got a brain like a sponge. Just sit down and study them.”
“But I swear I won’t miss any more sessions. And I’ll do whatever you say. Please, Dr. Larabee, you can’t stop coaching me now.”
Dr. Larabee looked very distraught and couldn’t make eye contact with her.
“You don’t know your own power, Akeelah,” he said. “You should read that quote again. You’re afraid of your own strength. You have to accept your strength and go with it.”
“I need you,” she said. “I really do.”
“Look—I told Mr. Welch I’d help you get through the Regionals. I did that. There’s nothing left for me to offer you, Akeelah. Just learn these words and you’ll do fine. All right?” He paused and then added, “You’ve already surpassed me.”
Akeelah just stared at him, stupefied.
“I don’t understand you,” she said.
“That’s not important.”
“Okay,” she said, “then that’s it.” Her eyes were moist and hot. She quickly gathered up the boxes of flashcards and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind her.
Dr. Larabee just sat there, staring at the closed door. He put his head in his hands and took a series of long, sighing breaths.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered into his hands, “but it’s gotten too tough. You’re too close to me now and I can’t have that. I called you Denise, and that’s the trouble right there. You aren’t Denise, you aren’t my daughter, and you can never be. You can never be, Akeelah. You can never be….”
Akeelah sat in her bedroom that night, angry and upset. She stared at the boxes of flashcards on her desk. She didn’t want to open them, had no urge to study for the first time in months. What’s the point?