Read Online Bingo Brown's Guide to Romance by Betsy Byars - Free Book Online

imperfect love along, but there was something he could do about his father.
    His mother had left for the afternoon. She had to be at the opening of some new town houses. But she had left specific instructions. “Listen for Jamie, and don’t do anything to upset your father.”
    As soon as her car was out of sight, however, Bingo went to his parents’ room. His father lay on the bed in his usual position, with his freckled hands folded on his chest.
    â€œDad, are you asleep?” Bingo asked from the doorway.
    â€œNot quite.”
    â€œYou want some company?”
    â€œOh, I don’t know. Like who?”
    â€œMe. Can I come in?”
    â€œSure.”
    Bingo came in and stood awkwardly beside the bed. He recalled that often his father had come into Bingo’s room and stood this way as Bingo lay on his Smurf sheets. His father usually said, “Is there something troubling you, son? Is everything all right?”
    But that wasn’t Bingo’s way. Bingo blurted out, “I know your manuscript got rejected.”
    There was a silence. Only the refolding of his father’s long, freckled fingers showed that he had heard the statement.
    Finally his father said, “I was going to get around to telling you.”
    â€œI just wanted to let you know that I know how it feels.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œI sent one of my manuscripts off.”
    â€œI didn’t know you’d ever finished one.”
    â€œWell, it wasn’t finished. It was only one paragraph. It was the one that started out, ‘At eight-thirty the earth beneath the city began to move. The tremor measured nine on the Richter scale. People thought it was an earthquake. The animals knew better. The animals knew that what had moved beneath the city was alive, alive after four thousand years of sleep! It was alive and it was coming up!’ ”
    â€œYou sent that off?”
    â€œYes, and I asked if they wanted to see the rest of the manuscript—I didn’t mention the fact that I hadn’t finished writing it, of course.”
    â€œWhat did they say?”
    â€œNothing. They just sent a printed slip of paper thanking me for sending it but saying they couldn’t publish it. Later I discovered I had misspelled Richter, and of course that might have had something to do with their reluctance to publish.”
    â€œPerhaps. Have you sent off other things, Bingo?”
    â€œNo, that’s the only one. I felt like my science-fiction story that takes place in Mau Mau really wasn’t long enough.”
    â€œI’ve forgotten that one. Refresh my memory.”
    â€œ ‘Something was stirring deep within the volcano on the island of Mau Mau, and it was not lava.’ ”
    His father seemed to control a smile. “It is sort of short.”
    â€œBut I make every word count.”
    â€œI’ll grant you that.”
    â€œIf I can get a couple more paragraphs, I’ll probably go ahead and put it in the mail. You need to send yours off again, Dad,” Bingo said.
    â€œI guess.”
    â€œYou have to! I would send mine off a hundred times if I believed in it.”
    â€œYou would, wouldn’t you?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œIt’s probably not so much that I wanted this manuscript to be published—although I did want that. I wanted a new way of life, Bingo. I wanted to stay home and write, but I can’t do that if I can’t justify it. If I can’t sell something—if I can’t make a living—then I can’t sit around all day at the word processor.”
    â€œSend it off again.”
    â€œWell, I will. I need to read it over—maybe I can make it better.”
    â€œYou want me to read it?”
    â€œOh, no, no, I think I’ve got to make my own decisions on this. I know you wouldn’t want me fiddling with your Richter-scale monster. By the way, what is that thing that’s coming up after four thousand years of