Isaiah Dunn Saves the Day

Miz Rita’s apartment is aight, but my favorite place to be is the library. I used to sit in the same spot in the children’s section, right by a window. That’s where I would read Daddy’s gold notebook and do my homework while I waited for Mama to pick me up. Now I head straight for my brand-new spot, the Gary Dunn Writing Room.
The room is named after my dad, and it was my idea to create it in this storage room that used to be full of junk. Mr. Shephard, the coolest librarian ever, helped me get permission from all the important library people, and then lots of companies donated furniture and computers for the room. It’s nice and cozy, and my dad’s words are on the walls. I always come up with good poems whenever I’m in the GD room.
“Isaiah, what’s up, my man?” Mr. Shephard holds out a fist and I bump it with mine.
“Nothin’ much, Mr. S,” I say. “How’s the room?”
“Perfect as always,” Mr. Shephard says. “Pretty sure your
spot’s open.” “Cool,” I say. “See you around.” “Hey, don’t forget the summer reading program,” Mr. Shephard reminds me. “Haven’t stamped your board in a while.” “I gotcha, Mr. S,” I say. I tell him he can get that stamp ready cuz I’m almost done with The Crossover.
Mr. Shephard salutes me and continues shelving books.
Two other people are in the GD room when I walk in, but Mr. Shephard was right; my spot’s open. I always sit in a green beanbag in the corner. Daddy’s words are in a picture frame right above the beanbag: “A head held high means you see everything you’re supposed to!”
I drop my book bag on the floor and plop onto the beanbag. I always do the same thing when I come in here: read a few pages from Daddy’s notebook and then start writing a poem. I always trip out when I see the title of Daddy’s stories, The Beans and Rice Chronicles of Isaiah Dunn. When he was alive, Daddy wrote stories about a kid superhero named Isaiah Dunn, who got his powers from bowls of beans and rice. In the stories, Isaiah Dunn is always going on secret missions, solving mysteries, and saving everybody. In real life, beans and rice definitely don’t give me powers. I’ve eaten enough bowls this year to last me for forever! After I read about superhero Isaiah stopping a fight, I get out my own gold notebook and pen and start writing.

Why fight?

Just be a friend.

That’s a battle

That everyone wins.

I write a poem about how hot it is in the summer and one about library smells. The man sitting at one of the computer stations is typing away, and the kid in one of the yellow beanbags is reading a real big book. It’s quiet in here, but all our words are saying a lot.
Daddy would really love this room.