Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Primary Source primary source (n) a person with firsthand knowledge of an event; a document written by such a person at the time the event took place Jessie paused in the school hallway, twisting the strap on her backpack back and forth. She knew the rule. Kids were not allowed in the classroom after school when the teacher wasn't there. The door was open. She poked her head into 4-O. No one was there. The chairs were all up on the desks. The shades were pulled down for the day. Even the gerbils were in silent hiding, nestled deep beneath the wooden shavings in their cage. Jessie tiptoed in. Her heart was beating wildly

in her chest, and her breathing felt short and choppy. Her heavy backpack pulled on her arms as if trying to hold her back. She approached Mrs. Overton's desk, which was near the window. On top, there were several neat piles of papers, her pen-and-pencil cup, a shallow dish full of paper clips, two photographs of Langston, and a wilted African violet. Jessie reached out and quickly rubbed one of the plant's leaves between her thumb and fingers, enjoying the velvety feel of the little hairs that covered the leaf. The soft touch of the plant calmed her down. But she didn't have much time. Megan was coming over to her house in half an hour to make their class valentines. And anyone could walk into the classroom at any moment. She would have to be fast. A real pro. Jessie's eyes scanned the desktop, looking for clues, but what was she looking for? Nothing seemed unusual. Nothing that would reveal Mrs. Overton as the secret person who was leaving

candy hearts. She walked around the desk and took a quick peek in the trash can, spotting only an empty paper cup and an orange peel. Out in the hall, a locker banged shut with a sharp metallic clang! Jessie could hear the sound of a squeaky cart rolling down the hall. She stopped. What if Mrs. Overton came back? Her coat was still hanging on the hook; her purse was underneath the desk. What if the custodian came in to sweep the floor? Would Jessie be expelled from fourth grade? But she had to be brave. Her newspaper was due in less than a week, and she didn't have a front-page story. There was a secret in 4-O, and it was her job to uncover the truth. She looked at Mrs. Overton's desk. There was one long, thin drawer in the center and three deep drawers on each side. Jessie wondered whether the drawers were locked. She wondered which drawer was most likely to hold a secret.

Her heart started to beat faster. Her dad did this kind of thing all the time, right? When he told his stories—of classified documents and uncovered clues and secret meetings with sources—he never mentioned being nervous. She reached her hand toward the top desk drawer. "What are you doing?" Jessie's hand jumped back as if bitten by a snake and disappeared behind her back. David Kirkorian stood in the doorway, buried inside his winter coat, woolen hat, and bulky gloves. "Nothing!" said Jessie. "I forgot my social studies notebook!" This was the excuse she had planned ahead of time, and she had in fact "accidentally" left her notebook in her desk. "So why are you looking in Mrs. Overton's desk?" David walked up to her and pulled off his hat. "She doesn't keep our notebooks in her desk." "Why are you even here?" asked Jessie. Was

David going to report her to the principal? "I saw you walk back into the school, and I thought maybe you needed help with something." He took off his gloves and stuck them under his arm. It was warm in the classroom, and his face was beginning to turn bright red with the heat. "I don't need help," said Jessie. And she didn't. At least not from David Kirkorian, of all people! He looked at her, then at the wall, then back at her. "I won't tell, Jessie," he whispered. "I'll keep your secret." "There is no secret!" shouted Jessie. She hurried past him, grabbed her social studies notebook from her desk, and ran out of the room. When Megan came over to her house, Jessie still felt jumpy. And she still didn't know what her frontpage story would be. "Do you think I can just say that it's Mrs.

Overton who's giving out the candy, since it obviously is?" asked Jessie. She and Megan were in the basement, making their cards. Valentine's Day was just five days away, and Jessie was worried about getting all twenty-six valentines done in time. Another deadline! There was so much pressure in fourth grade! "Isn't that against the law?" asked Megan. "I mean, if it turns out not to be true?" Megan had the messy idea of filling her envelopes with confetti, so she was busy cutting up tissue paper. "Yeah," said Jessie glumly. It was called libel, and you could go to jail for it. "But who else could it be?" Jessie was decorating the edges of her heartshaped valentines with little glue-on jewels, following a strict pattern—red, silver, purple, silver. "You never know!" said Megan, and she tossed a handful of confetti into the air so that it rained down on the table. Jessie brushed the confetti off her side, glad