It makes me so mad! As I was riding my bike home from school, I noticed this big 4th grader named Tommy Boes talking to my little sister, Lisa, who was in the 1st grade. Lisa was born with a clubfoot and walked with a limp, and I was pretty sure what Tommy was saying to her. Then I watched him put out his foot and trip her, and she fell down and started to cry. He was laughing and calling her “gimpy,” so I rode my bike really fast right into him and knocked him down. I fell too, right on top of him, and the chain made a big greasy scrape on my leg.

“You leave her alone, Tommy!” I shouted at him, but he just stood up, brushed himself off, and kicked me in the face—not so hard that it broke anything, but hard enough to really sting.

“Take that, you little twerp!” he said and walked away.

My face hurt, and I could tell that the kick was going to leave a bruise. I pushed the bike off of me and got up, then reached out my hand to help Lisa up. She was still crying a little and said to me, “Why does he have to be so mean?”

I dusted some grass off her and told her that he was just a big jerk. I reached down and grabbed the handlebars of my bike, but they were all bent. I wasn’t able to straighten them because the bolt was too tight, so I lifted up the front end and wheeled it home on the back wheel.

Lisa was still whimpering a little as we walked, so to cheer her up, I told her about a funny thing my teacher said to one of the kids in my class today. “His name is Jimmy Ferris, and he’s kind of a daydreamer. He was just sitting looking out the window when my teacher, Mrs. Pickett, hollered at him, saying, ‘Jimmy Ferris, what are you doing?’ Jimmy said, ‘Nothing!’ so Mrs. Pickett said, ‘That’s exactly right—nothing! Now get to work!’”

That made Lisa smile, and by the time we got home she seemed a little better.

Mommy was out on the front porch of our two-story farmhouse and saw us coming up the long driveway with me pushing the bike on one wheel. She asked me what happened, so I had to tell her the whole story, including the part where I rammed my bike into Tommy, but I left out his name. When she asked me who tripped Lisa and kicked me, I said I didn’t know the kid’s name. She cocked her head and frowned a little when I said that, but she didn’t ask me again.

She said she was proud of me for looking out for my sister like that. She told me to go upstairs and that she would be up in a minute to help clean up my leg and my face, but I said I had to do something first. I went out into the tool shed to get a ¾” crescent wrench to loosen the bolt to try to straighten the handlebars, but it was so tight I couldn’t turn it. I’d have to get Daddy to straighten them for me.

By the time I went in and Mommy cleaned up the scrape on my leg, put some Mercurochrome and a couple of Band-Aids on it, and washed off my cheek, it was getting too late to go to the hardware store today, plus I couldn’t ride my bike. So, I headed to my room and decided to read instead.

I lay down on my bed and picked up the first book of The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien. This is a long book—the longest one I’ve ever read so far—and there are two more just like it after I finish this one. I didn’t understand all the words in it, but I think I got most of it. I really like it!

After dinner Daddy straightened my handlebars for me. I asked him if I could ride over to Grandpa’s house to see if he wanted to play Stratego with me. He told me to call him first to see if he was free, so I did, and Grandpa said to come on over.

Grandpa lived less than ten minutes away by bike. We lived out in the country in a little town called Butler, Pennsylvania. It was mostly dirt roads over to Grandpa’s house. I pulled into his driveway and leaned my bike against the big elm tree in his front yard. He was sitting on the front porch waiting for me. He lives in what he calls a craftsman house on a street with about 15 other houses. It’s painted a pretty yellow color.

“Missed you at the store today, Punkin’,” he said, as I climbed the steps up onto the porch. He calls me that a lot because my hair is the same color as a pumpkin.

“Yeah, I got home kinda late today, Grandpa. This great big kid was picking on Lisa. I saw him trip her, and he called her names.”

“Oh yeah? So what happened then?”

“I tried to stop him.”

“What did you do?”

“I ran my bike right into his back. He fell down with me and the bike on top of him. I told him to leave her alone. But he got up and kicked me in the face and called me a twerp.”

Grandpa noticed the bruise on my cheek. “Does it hurt?”

“A little,” I said, touching it gently. Then he noticed the Band-Aids on my leg. He thought for a minute, then he said, “Well, probably best not to pick a fight with a kid who’s bigger than you. I’m proud of you for sticking up for your sister, though.”

“Why are kids so mean, Grandpa? Why did he have to pick on a helpless first grader? I would never make fun of a kid just because she walks a little funny.”

“Well of course you wouldn’t. Your parents taught you better. See, bullies are bullies because they don’t feel so good about themselves. Their parents probably aren’t very nice to them, like your parents are, and don’t teach them the right things. Try not to pay them any mind if they ever pick on you, and just keep always being nice to people.”

“They do pick on me. I try to be nice, but I don’t think the kids in my class like me very much.”

“Aw, sweetie. What makes you say that?”

“Well, they never seem to want to play with me. If I suggest a game, no one wants to play it, and if I ask if I can join in a game, they say no. And they always tease me about my red hair and freckles. Also, it seems like whenever I give an answer in class, I always hear Dana Padgett whisper things like, “Smarty Pants.”

“Let me ask you something; do you always have the right answers when the teacher calls on you?”

“Yeah, but I hardly ever raise my hand anymore. A lot of times, though, Mrs. Pickett will ask a question, and nobody answers, so she calls on me, and I always know the answer.”

Grandpa nodded a few times. “I think kids like Dana might be a little jealous of you. I’ll tell you what,” he said. “If they tease you about your looks or anything really, just look them right in the eye and then walk away. Don’t feel bad about things you can’t control, and even if you do feel a little sad, don’t let them see that you do. Just learn to ignore those kinds of kids that tease you. If you don’t respond, they’ll eventually stop when they can’t get a rise out of you.”

I thought about that for a moment. “Well, should I have just ignored Tommy when he tripped Lisa?”

“When someone’s threatening you, it’s also important to stick up for yourself and others too who can’t—like your sister. Sounds like he deserved what you did.”

“Yeah, he did.”

Grandpa looked at me. “You still look a little bothered, sweetie.”

“I guess it’s because I’d like to have friends; I just don’t know what to do to make any.”

“You shouldn’t really have to do anything except be your kind, sweet self. When the right person comes along, you’ll make a friend.”

I didn’t tell him I was tired of waiting, but I gave him a big hug then and said, “I love you, Grandpa.”

“I love you too, Punk. Now, should we go inside and play Stratego?”

We did, and we both won one game. Stratego can take a long time to play, so by the time we finished the two games, it was getting pretty dark out, and Grandpa said I’d better be getting home now. He got his bike out of the shed and rode home with me.

When we reached my driveway, he said goodnight and turned around to leave. “Goodnight, Grandpa. See you at the store tomorrow!” I called to him as he rode away. He put up his hand and waved.

 

It was almost 8:00 when I got home, so Mommy told me to go up and get a bath and get ready for bed, then she would come in and read to Lisa and me.

Lisa and I shared the same bedroom, and when I was finished in the bathroom, I crawled into Lisa’s bed with her to hear the story. Mommy was reading Peter Pan to us. I’d heard it many times and read it myself, but I always loved hearing it again. Lisa and I clapped loudly to help save Tinker Bell after she drank the poisoned medicine to save Peter. We hugged each other because we helped to save her!

After that, Mommy put a bookmark in the book. I went over to my own bed then, and she tucked us in and kissed us goodnight. Daddy came in a few minutes later and kissed us goodnight too. He made sure to leave the door cracked with the hall light on because Lisa was still a little afraid of the dark.

We lay still for a while, then Lisa called over in a soft voice and said, “Abby, are you still awake?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Do you think I’ll always be gimpy?”

“Are you still thinking about what that creep said to you this afternoon?”

“Why did he have to say that?” she asked, choking up a little.

I got out of bed then and walked over to her bed and got back in with her again. I put my arm around her.

“Grandpa told me his parents probably weren’t very nice to him, and he never learned how to be nice to other people. I feel kind of sorry for Tommy in a way because he’s not lucky enough to have nice parents like we do. It’s no excuse for picking on a little kid, though, but let’s just try to ignore him from now on.”

She hugged me then, and we stayed like that for a while. I told her that I overheard Mommy and Daddy talking about it once, and that they were saving money for an operation on her foot, and that when they had enough, she would get it fixed. I didn’t know if she heard me or not because it seemed like she’d fallen asleep. I was about to go back to my own bed when I heard a little sound outside the open window. I sat up, shook my sister, and said, “Lisa, did you hear that?”

She opened her eyes and blinked. “Hear what?” she said as she came fully awake.

“I don’t know. Let’s listen again.” Sure enough, a few seconds later, we heard it again. It was just a tiny, high-pitched sound, like a small animal crying. We both got out of bed and went over to the window to listen. We looked down into the yard but couldn’t see anything, and then we heard it again. It sounded like a soft “mew.”

We both ran out of the room then down the stairs, heading for the front door. Mommy saw us whiz by and shouted, “Girls, what are you doing up? Where are you going?” as we went out the front door. She and Daddy got up and followed us out.

“We heard a noise under the window,” I explained. “It sounded like a little animal, so we came down to see what it was.”

It was dark, but the moon was waxing gibbous (Daddy had taught me about the phases of the moon), so there was enough light to see a little. We all headed around to the side of the house, underneath our bedroom window, and looked around. We didn’t see or hear anything at first, but I started looking under the yew bushes there, and sure enough, there was a little black kitten hiding under a bush.

I reached in and pulled her out. She seemed scared and trembled in my hands. She mewed and mewed but didn’t try to get away. We all headed back inside with the kitten nestled against my chest. I softly stroked her little head and back, and she started purring!

Lisa said, “Aww… she’s so cute! Can I hold her?”

I gently handed her to Lisa, who cuddled her, and I told her to pet her softly—not too hard. She purred for Lisa too.

“Can we keep her?” we both asked at the same time.

Daddy picked her up out of Lisa’s arms right then and held her up to examine her. I saw him look over at Mommy and raise his eyebrows up, and she nodded her head slightly. He looked at us then and said, “Yes, you can keep her, but I’ve got some news for you. She’s a he, not a she. This is a boy kitten!”

He handed him back to me, and I buried my nose in him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” we shouted and danced all around.

“What shall we call him?” I asked.

“Why don’t you think about it tonight, and name him in the morning,” Mommy said, “but now it’s time to get back to bed.”

We started up the stairs with him, but Daddy said, “Hold on, girls. He’ll stay down here tonight in the bathroom. He might have fleas and ear mites, and we don’t want them getting into your beds. We’ll take him to the vet tomorrow morning and get him checked out. We’ll also have to get him a litter box and some kitten food. We’ll talk about it all tomorrow. So hand him over and get back to your room, please.”

“Awwww!” we both whined, but he snapped his fingers a couple of times and held out his hand, so I passed him to Daddy. The kitten let out a loud “Mew!” then, like maybe he wanted to stay with me.

I hesitated, but Daddy just pointed his finger up the stairs and said, “You’ll see him again in the morning, now up you both go.”

Back in our beds, Lisa said, “Why don’t we call her Blackie, because she’s so black.”

“Remember, it’s a him, not a her. Yeah, that’s a good possibility, but let’s keep thinking.”

I thought of a few names myself, but then my mind started wandering, and I thought about everything else that happened today. The last thing I can remember before I drifted off to sleep was talking to Grandpa and how I could always tell him everything. I really loved that guy.

 

 

Lisa and I went down early the next morning to play with the kitten. He was in the bathroom. We cornered him, got him out, and both of us took turns holding him for a while, but then he started mewing and scrambling to get down.

I thought he might be hungry, so I went into the pantry where I found a can of tuna fish. I opened it up with the can opener and put a little on a saucer, and boy, did he gobble that up! Lisa wanted to give him some too, so she scooped out a little more, and he ate that as well.

After that we took him into the living room to play with him. In a little while, Mommy and Daddy came down and watched us play with the kitten.

“Well, girls, did you happen to think up a good name for him yet?” asked Mommy.

I piped right in, “I want to call him Lester!”

Mommy looked at Daddy then with a funny look on her face, but she was smiling too. “Really? You want to name him after your grandpa?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Pop will get a big kick out of that!” said Daddy. He looked at Lisa and asked, “Is that okay with you too, Lisa?”

“Yeah. I like Lester too.”

“Okay then. I guess Lester it is, by unanimous decision. Mommy and I are going to fix breakfast now, and after that we’ll take Lester down to Dr. Stringer’s house. He’s a friend of mine and a veterinarian. I called him last night, and he said to bring him in around 9:00 AM. I also called Grandpa and told him we’d be to the store a little late today, and he said not to worry about it. Wait ‘til he hears what we named the cat!”

“Daddy, is it okay if I don’t come to the store with you today? I want to stay home and play with Lester.”

“That’s fine, sweetie. We’ll just have to manage without you today,” he said with a little smile.

“But I’ll come back on Monday after school. Oh, and don’t tell Grandpa what we named him. I want to tell him.”

“Okay then.”

 

 

Monday came, and it was time for school again. I have to admit I wasn’t all that fond of third grade this year. The kids were mean to me. Plus, I seem to know everything already, and it’s kind of boring. I sit in the back and keep pretty quiet. Sometimes during an arithmetic lesson, I spend the time reading a book that I bring from home.

Today, Mrs. Pickett was teaching the times tables. I’d known all of those since first grade. She wrote a bunch of problems on the board and then would call on us to give the answers. When she called on me for 7 x 8, I said it was 56, but she looked at me kind of funny and asked Dana Padgett for the correct answer. Dana said it was 21, and that was right.

Dana, who sits in front of me, turned around and whispered in a mean voice, “Not so smart in arithmetic, are you, Abby?”
I didn’t know what to say to her, because I still thought the answer was 56.

 

 

Later that afternoon, when I was working at the hardware store, Mrs. Pickett came in to buy some stuff. I was helping another customer at the time who wanted to buy fertilizer for her lawn but didn’t know how much to buy.

“What you have to do is look at these three numbers on the bag,” I explained. “This one says 10-6-4. That means it has 10 percent nitrogen, 6 percent phosphorus and 4 percent potassium in it. The bag also says to apply it at the rate of 1 pound of nitrogen per thousand square feet. Do you happen to know how big your lawn is?”

“Not really, dear.”

“Well, how long is your lot across the front, and how wide is it from the street to your house?”

The lady thought for a minute and said, “It’s about 80 feet across the front, but subtract maybe 15 feet for the width of the driveway. Then it’s perhaps 40 feet from the street to the shrubs in front of the house.”

“Are you going to fertilize the backyard too?” I asked.

She said no, so I did the calculation in my head.

“Okay, so your front yard is 2,600 square feet and, since the bag contains 10 percent nitrogen, that means there are 3 pounds of nitrogen in this 30 pound bag, so it should cover 3,000 square feet. Looks like one bag should do it with a little left over.”

“Why thank you, dear. And you did all that in your head! What grade are you in?”

“I’m in third grade.”

“Well, you’re very smart, and you must have an amazing teacher.”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” I said, looking over at Mrs. Pickett to see if she’d heard that. She was looking right at us, smiling.

After I rang up the lady, Mrs. Pickett came up to me and said, “Abby, I overheard that entire conversation. That was amazing how you did all those calculations in your head. So what’s going on in class? Did you purposely give the wrong answer today for 7 x 3?”

“Huh? I thought it said 7 x 8. I couldn’t figure out why the correct answer was 21! I guess I thought the 3 was an 8.”

“Abby, let’s try something. Can you look out the front window and read that sign on the shop window across the street?”

I looked out there and squinted real hard, but it looked awfully blurry to me. “I think it says, ‘line bail soil hone.’ What does that mean?”

“It actually says, ‘live bait sold here’.”

Right then, Daddy walked up and said hi to Mrs. Pickett.

She said, “Henry, have you ever had Abby’s vision tested? I think she may be having a little trouble reading the board from where she sits in the back. I’ll be sure to move her up closer tomorrow, but you may want to have her doctor check her vision.”

“Thanks very much for letting me know about this, Ida. I’ll be sure to do that. What can we help you find today?”

After that, I said goodbye to Mrs. Pickett and left her with Daddy. I wandered into the back to find Grandpa. I was frowning when he saw me.

 

“Hey, Punkin’. What’s up?”

“I just found out I’m probably going to need glasses.”

“Yeah, what makes you think that?”

I then told him how I got the problem wrong in school today and how I really botched the sign across the street.

“Well, it’s not the end of the world. Lots of people need glasses. I wear them myself. Have since I was about 12. You’ll get used to them if it comes to that.”

“Yeah, but I’m only 8. The kids are going to tease me. I know they will.”

“Remember what we talked about the other night? If they tease you about your glasses, just look them in the eye, then walk away.

“I guess I could give that a try. Thanks, Grandpa.” Then I remembered something that snapped me out of my mood. “Oh, by the way, guess what I named our new kitten?”

“Hmm, let me think. What color is he?”

“He’s all black.”

“Then, Blackie?”

“Nope. That’s what Lisa suggested, but guess again?”

“Shadow? Smoky? I know—Midnight.”

“It’s Lester!”

“You’re kidding!”

“Nope. I named him after you.”

“I’m honored,” he said, grinning and shaking his head.

“Well, I gotta get back up front and straighten some shelves,” I said. “This place is looking kind of disorganized lately.”

“Okay, Punk. You’ll fix us up in no time. I know you will.”

“See you later, Lester!”