Chip, 10, tells the story of just trying to figure out the way he feels on a bunch of new things, and there's a lot of fresh meaning in it for him.
Everything is him... and everything else is the stuff that is about him: a wall, a hill, September.
Writer’s note
The wall is imposing - more than 6 feet at its full height. Made of concrete, running the length of a block. Built a long time ago; important in the story. A look at what corners and barriers do.
Falling for a 6th-grade boy when you're only a 5th-grade boy puts you on real shaky ground. But Chip has to find a way to get to him - he's got 60 seconds every morning if the two of them could start walking the wall together. Then it would come down to putting it on the line - how do you touch him or say something that will let him know how you feel?
Passage at Amazon Stuart’s Wall
The beginning of the story…
THE BOY got to the corner before I did on the first day and he walked ahead of me. Yesterday I got there first and looked back once. He was there but I don't think he saw me looking at him.
I hope he didn't.
He could be in the 6th grade. I'm a boy in 5th.
I don't know what to do.
I slow down because I could be first again. Maybe it won't be long before he gets here.
If he's already in the building, I won't get to see him until tomorrow.
I'm pretty sure we're in different grades because I never see him during the day. I did look all over the playground at lunchtime and one of my friends goes, "What are you looking for?"
I didn't say.
My shoelaces are fine but I pretend like I'm tying one of them. When I look up the hill, the boy isn't there. This is going to be a bad day. What if he doesn't even go to this school, like he only went here for a couple days and found out it was the wrong place.
I walk next to the wall like I always do. I've been doing it for years because this is where I went for kindergarten.
The wall is over my head at first but not as high at the far end of the block, the north side. It isn't even up to my waist where I turn and go up to the side door. That's the entrance I go in, the boys entrance.
I know all the boys in 5th grade. If somebody new comes to our school, we will know they are a stranger and find out who they are.
This other boy, the one I want to talk to, has to be a 6th-grader. If he's a new boy in school, I don't know because I don't know all of them in his grade. The ones we know in that class are either really nice or they are the kids who like to push us around.
I eat lunch like usual, then go down the ramp to get to the playfield. You have to take the ramp that cuts in the side of the hill, then cuts back the other way because the hill is steep. Some boys go straight down the hill through the brush and the trees, but they're in a lot of trouble if they get caught.
I don't see the boy I'm looking for. He could be lost in the crowd. We're playing some football today, so I look everywhere around the field between plays. Whatever play is called, I'm sort of going through the motions. I keep thinking about the navy blue shirt but there's no reason to look for that one only. His other shirt was some kind of green with stripes.
September feels really warm. I wish it would be like this all year, but the cold and the rain will come. The sooner I find this boy, the better. The boys will wear their parkas and their hoods, and you might not know who they are unless you have already met them.