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interpreting the Text Using Close Reading
aCTiViTY 1.3
continued
15 I went outside and looked out at the fields. There he was. I could see him walking between the rows, his body bent over the little plants, hoe in hand. I walked slowly out to him, trying to think how I could best ask him for the money. There was a cool breeze blowing and a sweet smell of mesquite fruit in the air, but I didn’t appreciate
it. I kicked at a dirt clod. I wanted that jacket so much. It was more than just being a valedictorian and giving a little thank you speech for the jacket on graduation night. It represented eight years of hard work and expectation. I knew I had to be honest with Grandpa; it was my only chance. He saw my shadow and looked up.
16 He waited for me to speak. I cleared my throat nervously and clasped my hands behind my back so he wouldn’t see them shaking. “Grandpa, I have a big favor
to ask you,” I said in Spanish, the only language he knew. He still waited silently.
I tried again. “Grandpa, this year the principal said the scholarship jacket is not going to be free. It’s going to cost fifteen dollars, and I have to take the money in tomorrow, otherwise it’ll be given to someone else.” The last words came out in an eager rush. Grandpa straightened up tiredly and leaned his chin on the hoe handle. He looked out over the field that was filled with the tiny green bean plants. I waited, desperately hoping he’d say I could have the money.
17 He turned to me and asked quietly, “What does a scholarship jacket mean?”
18 I answered quickly; maybe there was a chance. “It means you’ve earned it by
having the highest grades for eight years and that’s why they’re giving it to you.” Too late I realized the significance of my words. Grandpa knew that I understood it was not a matter of money. It wasn’t that. He went back to hoeing the weeds that sprang up between the delicate little bean plants. It was a time-consuming job; sometimes the small shoots were right next to each other. Finally he spoke again as I turned to leave, crying.
19 “Then if you pay for it, Marta, it’s not a scholarship jacket, is it? Tell your principal I will not pay the fifteen dollars.”
20 I walked back to the house and locked myself in the bathroom for a long time. I was angry with Grandfather even though I knew he was right, and I was angry with the Board, whoever they were. Why did they have to change the rules just when it was my turn to win the jacket? Those were the days of belief and innocence.
21 It was a very sad and withdrawn girl who dragged into the principal’s office the next day. This time he did look me in the eyes.
22 “What did your grandfather say?”
23 I sat very straight in my chair.
24 “He said to tell you he won’t pay the fifteen dollars.”
25 The principal muttered something I couldn’t understand under his breath and
walked over to the window. He stood looking out at something outside. He looked bigger than usual when he stood up; he was a tall, gaunt man with gray hair, and I watched the back of his head while I waited for him to speak.
26 “Why?” he finally asked. “Your grandfather has the money. He owns a two- hundred acre ranch.”
27 I looked at him, forcing my eyes to stay dry. “I know, sir, but he said if I had
to pay for it, then it wouldn’t be a scholarship jacket.” I stood up to leave. “I guess you’ll just have to give it to Joann.” I hadn’t meant to say that, it had just slipped out. I was almost to the door when he stopped me.
My Notes
Unit 1 • The Choices We Make • Part 1: The Scholarship Jacket 7
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