I groaned. My secret was out.    

Last year in gym class, I dribbled the basketball away from Nathan. That’s when he started calling me Enormous Willy, probably because I’m the tallest kid in our fifth grade class. Watch out!” Nathan warned.  “Here comes Enormous Willy. Run for your lives!”  

I think I must have been brain-damaged when I dribbled that ball away from Nathan Naylor—the master of nasty.  

But that happened before I lost my toe. You’d be surprised how important a big toe is. I don’t play basketball anymore because sometimes keeping my balance is a problem. I figure if I don’t try, I won’t fall and embarrass myself.   

When the bus stopped, I climbed off. My friend, Robby Fuller, got off, too. 

“I don’t get it,” Robby shook his head. “Why don’t you knock Nathan on his stupid butt?” 

I did a shoulder roll. 

“Sheesh! I mean where did he dig up that nine toes garbage, anyway?”

I looked at Robby. “It’s true.”

“What’s true?” Robby frowned, confused.

“I’m missing a toe.” I’m not sure why I blurted it out. Maybe I was way tired of my secret—which, thanks to Nathan, wasn’t a secret anymore. 

“Whoa!” Robby took a step back. “Well...okay. So you’re missing a toe,” he shrugged. “No biggie. But, how did Nathan find out?”

“Today in gym, I twisted my ankle and went to the nurse. She’s examining my foot when guess who strolls in, looking for a band-aid?”

“Nathan,” Robby answers.   

“Exactly correct. He points at my foot and says, ‘Your toe’s missing!’ Like it should be news to me. So,” I sighed, “now everybody knows I’m a nine-toes freak.”

“How did it happen . . . if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Last July, I went camping with my dad. He warned me not to walk around barefoot. But did I listen? Anyway, I cut my toe on a rusty can and got a bad infection. The doctor had to amputate—cut it off,” I explained.  

“Well, Nathan’s story is that your dog bit it off,” Robby informed me.

“What? Jeez Louise! I don’t even have a dog!”

 Robby shook his head. “Man, Nathan’s gonna dis you until the moon weeps,” his hand swept the sky. “He’s center stage, and he loves it. You’ll be Enormous Nine-Toes Willy forever.”

“Hey, Rob, tell me something I don’t know?” I growled at him. 

“What I mean is, you’ll be Enormous Nine-Toes Willy forever—unless you steal the show away from Nathan.”

“What show?” I was confused. “What the heck are you talking about?”

Robby huffed out a breath. “Look, kids love to be grossed out, right? Why not just show off your toe-less foot?”

I shot him my get-serious look.

“Just listen, okay? You do a little show and tell. They oooh and ahhh. Then your foot is old news. Been there, done that.” He gave a dismissive wave.

Robby was making sense. Nathan was the only kid who’d actually seen my foot. And that made him a big deal. And if I kept acting like a freak, well, Nathan would keep treating me like one. But if I took my foot out of the closet, so to speak, I’d steal the show away from Nathan. I’d be the one in control.   

But . . . could I take off my shoe . . . in front of everyone? 

“You can do it,” Robby sounded sure.

“Maybe . . . but how? What? Do I whip out my foot in the middle of math?”

“Hmm . . . you have a point. Everyone will think you’re bonkers, for sure. You need a plan.”

As we walked along, suddenly a light blinked on in my head. “Hey Rob, I think I have an idea!”

“Well, do tell.”

“Tomorrow our speeches are due, right?” Our teacher had assigned a speech project last week. “What if I talk about how I lost my toe?”

Robby tapped the side of his head. “Brilliant! But you don’t have much time to prepare.”

“Sounds good. What were you gonna talk about before?”         

“How to take care of a hamster.” 

Robby hooted. “They’d have snored through that, for sure. I’ll bet nobody nods off when you announce that you’re gonna talk about how you lost your big toe.” 

******

I was more nervous than a rabbit staring down a fox when Mrs. Gray called me up to give my speech. As I passed Nathan, he cupped his hand over his mouth. 

“Make way for Enormous Nine-Toes Willy!” 

Nathan’s remark freaked me out. I opened my mouth, but nothing happened. My face got as red as a summer tomato.

“Way to go, Nine-Toes,” Nathan snorted. 

When Mrs. Gray narrowed her eyes at Nathan, I swallowed over the lump in my throat. I was blowing it! 

“One more outburst, Mr. Naylor, and you’re out of here,” Mrs. Gray warned.  “So Willy,” she asked, “what will you speak about today?”

I focused on Robby, and when he gave me a thumbs up, I found my voice. “Ah . . . Today . . . I’m going to . . . talk about . . . how I . . . lost my . . . toe.”

“No way!” Nathan blurted out.   

Mrs. Gray pointed at the door. “Out. Go visit the principal, Nathan.” 

“Fine!” Nathan stammered.            

As he stormed out, I did a mental grin. I mean, here he was pretending to know all the details about my toe, but he’d be the only kid who wouldn’t hear the facts.   

“Last summer I went camping . . .”  

My speech lasted ten minutes.

“. . . so if you go camping, remember to wear shoes!”   

“Thank you, Willy. That was an excellent presentation. Are there any questions?” she asked the class. Suddenly hands were waving in the air. I called on Robby. It was part of the plan. I already knew what his question would be. 

“What does your foot look like?” he asked.   

“Actually, that’s the visual part of my presentation.” 

Heads were bobbing for the best view as I pulled off my sneaker and stuck out my foot. Then the “ooohs” and “ahhhs” started, just as Robby had predicted.   

“Awesome, Dude!” Jamal high-five’d me as I walked back to my seat. And for the first time in months, I felt way good.

Justin went next. “I’m going to talk about my pet snake.” As he opened the crate, everyone began “ooohing” and “ahhhing.” My foot was already old news. 

When the bell rang, Robby and I climbed on the bus. Nathan plopped down across from us. 

“Well, if it isn’t Enormous Nine-Toes Willy!” He howled. 

I glanced around the bus, but no one was paying any attention to Nathan. That’s when I knew that  

Enormous Nine-Toes Willy was history.            

“So...what are you doing after school?” Robby asked me.

I shrugged. “I think I’ll play a little basketball. Wanna come over?”

~The End~

Illustration Copyright © 2008 Stephen Macquignon

Text Copyright © 2008 Valerie Collins