"I don't believe in violence. And anyway, it seems to me that big kids would get the blame in a fight. No one's going to think a big kid like me didn't start it, so they would assume I give the punches, not receive them."
He stares at his vanilla ice cream and then looks up. Maybe a little happier. "This reminds me of ice cream on Ellis Island."
"You may have a skull full of brains, but, again, Albert . . . no sense," Keisha says.
"When the immigrants came to America through Ellis Island, they would sometimes get ice cream for a treat. But they didn't recognize ice cream. They thought it was butter, so they spread it on toast."
We laugh.
... ...
Fish in a Tree, P103
Lynda Mullaly Hunt
ISBN 978-0-399-16259-6
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