Akeelah and the Bee - James W. Ellison [47]
In the audience, Dr. Larabee sat with Tanya, Georgia, Mr. Welch, and Devon, who was beaming with pride and decked out in his Air Force regalia. A row in front of them, Mr. Watanabe sat rigid and nervous, kneading his hands in his lap.
Her eyes sought out Dr. Larabee’s and he answered her gaze with a small smile.
At first I was doing this for Daddy. Now I’m doing it for you. Yes, I want to win, I want to win more than anything, but I’m doing this for you, Dr. Larabee. I wonder if you know that.
A well-dressed television announcer, Ted Saunders, spoke into the TV monitor in a soundproof booth above the auditorium. “Hello,” he said in a deep, melodious announcer’s voice, “and welcome to the Scripps National Spelling Bee.” He flashed a bright, practiced grin. “I’m Ted Saunders here with Margaret Russell, broadcasting live from the main ballroom of the Grand Hyatt Washington, where today’s winner will take home the champion’s trophy and prize money worth… twenty thousand dollars!” He turned to his colleague, and his smile beamed up to an even brighter wattage. “Now, Margaret, as a former spelling bee finalist yourself, what should we be looking for in this year’s bee? Any predictions ?”
“Well, there are several kids who placed very high in last year’s competition, most notably Dylan Watanabe. In fact, he has finished second in the last two National Bees. I would say he’s the odds-on favorite to win this year. But spelling bees are notoriously unpredictable. The children are young, and new geniuses break through on a regular basis.” She paused as the camera panned over the young contestants. “But the speller I’ve really got my eye on is little Akeelah Anderson from Los Angeles. This is her first year in competition and she shows great promise.”
Akeelah’s image appeared on a huge-projection TV.
“She looks more like nine than eleven,” Saunders observed. “But I see determination written all over her.”
Margaret Russell continued: “Akeelah has become a bit of a media sensation. This is, as I said, the eleven-year-old’s first try at the spelling bee circuit.”
When Akeelah’s name was called, Javier said, “Break a leg. Break two for luck!”
When she got up from her chair and smiled at Javier, she could tell that he was as nervous as she was. Standing at the mike, she looked out at the sea of lights and cameras. She closed her eyes, fighting for calm, and when she opened them hundreds of people were staring back at her. Calm yourself, girl. You know how good you are. You are here to make Daddy proud. And Dr. Larabee. And Mama. And Devon and Kiana and Terrence and Georgia and everybody who helped you learn to spell all those words. And maybe most of all, girl, you are here to make you proud.
She caught Dr. Larabee’s eye in the audience and his eyes were steady and reassuring as he nodded to her. She nodded back. She glanced at the Pronouncer, a professorial-looking man who, with an assistant beside him, sat at a table near the long panel of Judges, including the Head Judge.
“‘Ratiocinate,’” the Pronouncer said.
“Could you repeat the word, please?” Akeelah said.
“‘Ratiocinate.’”
“I’d like a definition.”
“To reason logically and methodically,” the Pronouncer said.
Akeelah began to beat lightly on her left thigh.
“‘Ratiocinate,’” she said slowly. “R-a-t-i-o-c-i-n-a-t-e. ‘Ratiocinate.’”
She rushed back to her seat.
As the bee completed its first thirty minutes, Ted Saunders, still wearing a bright smile, said, “Wow, these kids are something else.”
Margaret Russell turned to him. “But watch out, Ted. Single elimination is ruthless. One wrong letter and that’s it.”
Another speller was eliminated when she misspelled “paramatta.” Akeelah whispered to Javier, “She’s too good a speller to miss that. The double consonant was so obvious, don’t you