Read Akeelah and the Bee for Free Online Page B

thumbs-up sign.
    Moments later, all the contestants were seated except a twelve-year-old girl in pigtails at the microphone and the three spellers on deck standing behind her, including Javier and a very nervous Akeelah, who fiddled with her number.
    “Your word is ‘cacophony,’” the Pronouncer said.
    The girl in pigtails smiled and said immediately, “C-a-c-a-p-h-o-n-y. ‘Cacophony.’”
    A bell dinged and the girl, dejected, dismounted the stage, her head bowed.
    It was Javier’s turn. He gave Akeelah a goofy grin before he did a half walk, half run up to the mike and faced the Judge, the Pronouncer, and several Assistant Judges. There was a faint tittering from the audience. Javier was clearly a crowd pleaser.

    “Your word is ‘rhesus,’” the Pronouncer said.
    “‘Rhesus’?”
    Because of his speech impediment, Javier had to struggle to pronounce his words to the satisfaction of the judges. Javier simply accepted this as a challenge—life playing tricks on him—and he had learned at a very early age to compensate mightily. More often than not, he was the funniest boy in any group as well as the brightest.
    “Try again,” the Judge said. “Take your time.”
    “‘Rhesus,’” Javier said with slightly more clarity. The Judge nodded. Javier rolled his eyes up, muttered something under his breath, and said, “Could I have a definition, please?”
    The Pronouncer said, “A brownish-yellow monkey of India.”
    “Oh, that little fellow. ‘Rhesus,’ yes. R-h-e-s-u-s. ‘Rhesus.’”
    There was no bell. Javier started imitating a monkey as he returned to his seat, and drew a big laugh from the audience.
    Now it was Akeelah’s turn and she was petrified—too petrified to move, to think, even to breathe. She stared out at the sea of faces in the audience and they were a blur. Then an image of her father filled her mind. She could see his gentle eyes and feel his warm smile and hear his carefully chosen words as he told her that he was there for her, that he was watching. He spoke to her, saying, You can do it, baby. I know you can do it. And I’m right here with you….
    “Number one-oh-eight,” the Judge said.

    Akeelah slowly rose to her feet, fought for a lungful of air, and stepped up to the mike.
    “The word is ‘eminent,’” said the Pronouncer. When she didn’t respond immediately, the Judge said, “Did you hear the word?”
    “Uh…I’m not sure if he’s saying ‘imminent’ or ‘eminent.’”
    “Would you like a definition?” the Judge asked.
    “That’d be cool,” Akeelah said.
    That brought a small ripple of laughter from the crowd, and Akeelah started tapping her foot nervously.
    The Pronouncer said, “‘Eminent.’ Rising above other things or places; high; lofty….‘Eminent.’”
    “E-m-i-n-e-n-t,” she said quickly. “‘Eminent.’”
    When there was no bell, she exhaled sharply and scampered back to her chair, relieved. Javier gave her an enthusiastic nod and a big grin.
    Moments later, Dylan Watanabe sauntered up to the mike, all businesslike confidence, bordering on the arrogant. His word was “hypertrophic,” which he spelled instantly, and then he returned to his seat without a smile or acknowledgment of the audience applause. Akeelah noticed that Dylan’s father—arms crossed over his chest, expression grim—did not applaud.
    Akeelah stepped up to the microphone for the next round.
    “The word is ‘concierge,’” the Pronouncer said.
    She started tapping lightly on her thigh. “Uh…is that,
like, a guy who stands around in a hotel? Wears a uniform ?”
    “Speak into the mike, please,” the Judge said.
    “A concierge,” said the Pronouncer, “is a head porter or doorkeeper. The origin is French.”
    Akeelah nodded as she continued to tap her leg. “Co-n-c-i-e-r-g-e. ‘Concierge.’”
    As she returned to her seat. Javier leaned toward her and whispered, “You’re doing great.” He raised both of his thumbs.
    “I’m gettin’ mad