No Talking

For my brother, Matthew Day Clements

Chapter 1: ZIPPED

Chapter 2: GANDHI

Chapter 3: INSULTS

Chapter 4: COOTIES

Chapter 5: THE CONTEST

Chapter 6: TEAMWORK

Chapter 7: THE UNSHUSHABLES

Chapter 8: SCIENCE FICTION

Chapter 9: THE RIGHT WORD

Chapter 10: RECESS

Chapter 11: QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

Chapter 12: GUESSING GAMES

Chapter 13: LANGUAGELAB

Chapter 14: SEEN BUT NOT HEARD

Chapter 15: CONTROL CENTER

Chapter 16: ORDERS

Chapter 17: ALLIANCES

Chapter 18: ADVENTURES IN THE REDZ ONE

Chapter 19: APOLOGIES

Chapter 20: THE WINNERS

D
ave Packer was in the middle of his fourth hour of not talking. He was also in the middle of his social studies class on a Monday morning in the middle of November. And Laketon Elementary School was in the middle of a medium-size town in the middle of New Jersey.

There was a reason Dave was in the middle of his fourth hour of not talking, but this isn't the time to tell about that. This is the time to tell what he figured out in the middle of his social studies class.

Dave figured out that not talking is
extra
hard at school. And the reason? Teachers. Because at 11:35 Mrs. Overby clapped her hands and said, “Class—class! Quiet down!”Then she looked at her list and said,“Dave and Lynsey, you're next.”

So Dave nodded at Lynsey and stood up. It was time to present their report about India.

But giving this report would ruin his experiment. Because Dave was trying to keep his mouth shut all day. He wanted to keep his lips zipped right up to the very end of the day, to not say one single word until the last bell rang at ten after three. And the reason Dave had decided to clam up ...but it still isn't the time to tell about that. This is the time to tell what he did about the report.

Dave and Lynsey walked to the front of the room. Dave was supposed to begin the presentation by telling about the history of India. He looked down at his index cards, looked up at Mrs. Overby, looked out at the class, and he opened his mouth.

But he didn't talk.

He coughed. Dave coughed for about ten seconds. Then he wiped his mouth, looked at his index cards again, looked at Mrs. Overby again, looked at the class again, opened his mouth again, and . . . coughed some more. He coughed and coughed and coughed until his face was bright red and he was all bent over.

Lynsey stood there, feeling helpless. Dave hadn't told her about his experiment, so all she could do was watch—and listen to his horrible coughing. Lynsey's opinion of Dave had never been high, and it sank lower by the second.

Mrs. Overby thought she knew what was happening with Dave. She had seen this before—kids who got so nervous that they made themselves sick rather than talk in front of the class. It surprised her, because Dave wasn't shy at all. Ever. In fact,
none
of this year's fifth graders were the least bit shy or nervous about talking. Ever.

But the teacher took pity, and she said, “You'd better go get some water. You two can give your report later.”

Lynsey gave Dave a disgusted look and went back to her desk.

Dave nodded at Mrs. Overby, coughed a few more times for good measure, and hurried out of the room.

And with Dave out in the hall getting a drink, it's the perfect time to tell why he was in the middle of his fourth hour of not talking, and why he had decided to keep quiet in the first place.

W
hen something happens, there's usually a simple explanation. But that simple explanation is almost never the full story. Here's the simple explanation anyway: Dave had decided to stop talking for a whole day because of something he'd read in a book.

See? Very simple, very clear. But it's not the whole story.

So here's a little more.

Dave and a partner had to prepare a report on India—not a long one, just some basic facts. Something about the history, something about the government, something about the land and the industry, something about the Indian people and their culture. Five minutes or less.

Dave's report partner was Lynsey Burgess, and neither one of them was happy about that—there

were some boy-girl problems at Laketon Elementary School. But this isn't the time to tell about that.

Even though Dave and Lynsey had to
give
their report together, they both agreed that they did
not
want to
prepare
it together. So they divided the topics in half, and each worked alone.

Dave was a good student, and he had found two books about India, and he had checked them out of the library. He hadn't read both books, not completely—he wasn't
that
good a student. But he had read parts of both books.

Dave thought the most interesting section in each book was the part about how India became independent, how the country broke away from England to become a free nation—sort of like the United States did.

And Dave thought the most interesting person in the story of India's independence was Mahatma Gandhi.

Dave was amazed by Gandhi. This one skinny little man practically pushed the whole British army out of India all by himself. But he didn't use weapons or violence. He fought with words and ideas. It was an incredible story, all of it true.

And in one of the books, Dave read this about Gandhi:

For many years, one day each week
Gandhi did not speak at all. Gandhi believed
this was a way to bring
order to his mind.

Dave read that bit of information on Thursday afternoon, and he read it again on Sunday night as he prepared for his oral report.And it made him wonder what that would be like—to go a whole day without saying a single word. And Dave began to wonder if not talking would bring order to
his
mind too.

In fact, Dave wondered what that meant, “to bring order to his mind.” Could something as simple as not talking change the way your mind worked? Seemed like it must have been good for Gandhi. But what would it do for a regular kid in New Jersey?

Would not talking make him . . . smarter? Would he finally understand fractions? If he had more order in his mind, would he be able to look at a sentence and
see
which word was an adverb—instead of just guessing? And how about sports? Would someone with a more orderly mind be a better baseball player?

Powerful questions.

So Dave decided to zip his lip and give it a try. Was it hard for him to keep quiet?You bet, especially at first, like when he got to the bus stop, where

his friends were arguing about why the Jets had lost to the Patriots. But Dave had learned quickly that by nodding and smiling, by frowning and shrugging, by shaking his head, by giving a thumbs-up or a high five, or even by just putting his hands in his coat pockets and turning away, not talking was possible. And by the time he'd ridden the bus to school, Dave had gotten pretty good at fitting in without speaking up.

There.That explains what's going on a little better. And it's probably enough, at least for the moment. But there's more.There's
always
more.

And now we're back in class on Monday with Dave, who got through the rest of social studies without saying a word. And when the bell rang at the end of the period, it was time for fifth-grade lunch.

More than a hundred and twenty-five kids began hurrying toward the cafeteria. And by the time they got there, the fifth graders were already talking like crazy—all except one.

I
f you had to shut up for five minutes, I bet the whole top of your head would explode!” As those words flew out of his mouth, Dave had two thoughts.

First, he thought,
Darn it!
—because he remembered he'd been trying not to talk at all.

And his second thought was,
Gandhi probably wouldn't have said that
. Because it wasn't a very nice thing to say.

But that's what Dave said, and he said it to Lynsey Burgess, and there was a reason he said it.

So it's time to back up a little and explain.

• • •

Dave had gotten through the lunch line without a peep. He had pointed at the pizza plate, then pointed at the fruit cup. He had nodded for “yes, please” and shook his head for “no, thanks.” He had grabbed
some milk from the cooler and flashed his lunch pass at Mrs.Vitelli. And he had smiled a lot.

No talking? No problem.

Then he'd sat down at a table with some of his friends, just like always. But instead of jumping into the conversation, Dave had kept a pleasant look on his face, and he'd kept his mouth full of food.

No talking? No problem.

And because he wasn't talking, Dave had focused all his energy on listening.

Listening at the lunch table, really
listening
, was a brand-new experience for him. Because most of the time Dave was a loudmouth.

See? There's something more about Dave. And it makes Dave's reaction to Gandhi make more sense. Because if Dave himself was a loudmouth, a real tongue-flapper, then someone like Gandhi who could keep completely quiet would seem that much more amazing.