Wonder R. J. Palacio

The Last Precept 
This was written on Mr. Browne's chalkboard when we walked into English class for the 
last time:
MR. BROWNE'S JUNE PRECEPT:
JUST FOLLOW THE DAY AND REACH FOR THE SUN!
(The Polyphonic Spree)
Have a great summer vacation, Class 5B!
It's been a great year and you've been a wonderful group of students.
If you remember, please send me a postcard this summer with YOUR 
personal precept. It can be something you made up for yourself or 
something you've read somewhere that means something to you. (If so, 
don't forget the attribution, please!) I really look forward to getting them.
Tom Browne
563 Sebastian Place
Bronx, NY 10053
 
The Drop-Off
 
The graduation ceremony was held in the Beecher Prep Upper School auditorium. It 
was only about a fifteen-minute walk from our house to the other campus building, but 
Dad drove me because I was all dressed up and had on new shiny black shoes that 
weren't broken in yet and I didn't want my feet to hurt. Students were supposed to 
arrive at the auditorium an hour before the ceremony started, but we got there even 
earlier, so we sat in the car and waited. Dad turned on the CD player, and our favorite 
song come on. We both smiled and started bobbing our heads to the music.
Dad sang along with the song: "
Andy would bicycle across town in the rain to bring you 
candy."

---

"Hey, is my tie on straight?" I said.
He looked and straightened it a tiny bit as he kept on singing: "
And John would buy the 
gown for you to wear to the prom . 
. ."
"Does my hair look okay?" I said.
He smiled and nodded. "Perfect," he said. "You look great, Auggie."
"Via put some gel in it this morning," I said, pulling down the sun visor and looking in 
the little mirror. "It doesn't look too puffy?"
"No, it's very, very cool, Auggie. I don't think you've ever had it this short before, have 
you?"
"No, I got it cut yesterday. I think it makes me look more grown-up, don't you?"
"Definitely!" He was smiling, looking at me and nodding.
"
But I'm the luckiest guy on the Lower East Side, 'cause I got wheels, and you want to 
go for a ride."
"Look at you, Auggie!" he said, smiling from ear to ear. "Look at you, looking so grown-
up and spiffy. I can't believe you're graduating from the fifth grade!"
"I know, it's pretty awesome, right?" I nodded.
"It feels like just yesterday that you started."
"Remember I still had that 
Star Wars
braid hanging from the back of my head?"
"Oh my gosh, that's right," he said, rubbing his palm over his forehead.
"You hated that braid, didn't you, Dad?"
"Hate is too strong a word, but I definitely didn't love it."
"You hated it, come on, admit it," I teased.
"No, I didn't hate it." He smiled, shaking his head. "But I will admit to hating that 
astronaut helmet you used to wear, do you remember?"
"The one Miranda gave me? Of course I remember! I used to wear that thing all the 
time."
"Good God, I hated that thing," he laughed, almost more to himself.
"I was so bummed when it got lost," I said.

---

"Oh, it didn't get lost," he answered casually. "I threw it out."
"Wait. What?" I said. I honestly didn't think I heard him right. 
"
The day is beautiful, and so are you,"
he was singing.
"Dad!" I said, turning the volume down.
"What?" he said.
"You threw it out?!" He finally looked at my face and saw how mad I was. I couldn't 
believe he was being so matter-of-fact about the whole thing. I mean, to me this was a 
major revelation, and he was acting like it was no big deal.
"Auggie, I couldn't stand seeing that thing cover your face anymore," he said clumsily.
"Dad, I loved that helmet! It meant a lot to me! I was bummed beyond belief when it got 
lost
—don't you remember?"
"Of course I remember, Auggie," he said softly. "Ohh, Auggie, don't be mad. I'm sorry. I 
just couldn't stand seeing you wear that thing on your head anymore, you know? I
didn't think it was good for you." He was trying to look me in the eye, but I wouldn't look 
at him.
"Come on, Auggie, please try to understand," he continued, putting his hand under my 
chin and tilting my face toward him. "You were wearing that helmet all the time. And the
real, real, real, real truth is: I missed seeing your face, Auggie. I know you don't always 
love it, but you have to understand . . . I love it. I love this face of yours, Auggie,
completely and passionately. And it kind of broke my heart that you were always 
covering it up."
He was squinting at me like he really wanted me to understand.
"Does Mom know?" I said. He opened his eyes wide. "No way. Are you kidding? She
would have killed me!"
"She tore the place apart looking for that helmet, Dad," I
said. "I mean, she spent like a 
week looking for it in every closet, in the laundry room, everywhere."
"I know!" he said, nodding. "That's why she'd kill me!"
And then he looked at me, and something about his expression made me start 
laughing, which made him open his mouth wide like he'd just realized something.
"Wait a minute, Auggie," he said, pointing his finger at me. "You have to promise me 
you will 
never
tell Mommy anything about this."

---

I smiled and rubbed my palms together like I was about to get very greedy.
"Let's see," I said, stroking my chin. "I'll be wanting that new Xbox when it comes out 
next month. And I'll definitely be wanting my own car in about six years, a red Porsche 
would be nice, and . . ."
He started laughing. I love it when I'm the one who makes Dad laugh, since he's 
usually the funnyman that gets everybody else laughing.
"Oh boy, oh boy," he said, shaking his head. "You really have grown up."
The part of the song we love to sing the most started to play, and I turned up the 
volume. We both started singing.
"I'm the ugliest guy on the Lower East Side, but I've got wheels and you want to go for 
a ride. Want to go for a ride. Want to go for a ride. Want to go for a riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide."
We always sang this last part at the top of our lungs, trying to hold that last note as long 
as the guy who sang the song, which always made us crack up. While we were 
laughing, we noticed Jack had arrived and was walking over to our car. I started to get 
out.
"Hold on," said Dad. "I just want to make sure you've forgiven me, okay?" 
"Yes, I forgive you."
He looked at me gratefully. "Thank you."
"But don't ever throw anything else of mine out again without telling me!"
"I promise." I opened the door and got out just as Jack reached the car.
"Hey, Jack," I said.
"Hey, Auggie. Hey, Mr. Pullman," said Jack.
"How you doin', Jack?" said Dad.
"See you later, Dad," I said, closing the door.
"Good luck, guys!" Dad called out, rolling down the front window. "See you on the other 
side of fifth grade!"
We waved as he turned on the ignition and started to pull away, but then I ran over and 
he stopped the car. I put my head in the window so Jack wouldn't hear what I was 
saying.

---

"Can you guys not kiss me a lot after graduation?" I asked quietly. "It's kind of 
embarrassing."
"I'll try my best."
"Tell Mom, too?"
"I don't think she'll be able to resist, Auggie, but I'll pass it along."
"Bye, dear ol' Dad." He smiled. "Bye, my son, my son."