Read Online The Shells Of Chanticleer by Maura Patrick - Free Book Online

broke into chunks, revealing a hard, crunchy cake of buttery toffee underneath. It was chewy and nutty and clung to my teeth. When I finished chewing, there was another on my plate.
    “It’s from me,” said Bing. “In honor of your first day. You deserve it.”
    “It’s so good,” I said, eagerly biting off the feet first this time. Bing was nice, I had to admit.
    “Of course it’s good. Everything here is wonderful! You will see.” As I was putting the last bite into my mouth Bing said, “Okay, you shouldn’t be hungry after that! We don’t want to be late for the rest of your afternoon.”
    I sighed. I had hoped I would get the rest of the day off but I had hoped in vain.
    We left the dining hall and walked back through the center of Chanticleer. Rafe had resumed his post. I stopped to listen to his mysteriously rhythmic verse.
     
    “And what shoulder and what art
    Could twist the sinews of thy heart
    And when thy heart began to beat
    What dread hand and what dread feet?
    What the hammer? What the chain?
    In what furnace was thy brain?
    What the anvil? What dread grasp
    Dare its deadly terrors clasp?”
     
    I was amazed at the memory the boy displayed. I said, “He seems like he has it memorized pretty well. How much longer does he have to be out there?”
    “Why, until he loves it so much we beg him to stop. But it is not about the memorization, Macy! Tell me, is that the face of someone who loves public speaking?”
    I looked at Rafe’s downcast face and his cheeks flushed a pretty pink with embarrassment.
    “No?”
    “No is right!” Bing said. “Poetry should be recited with joy, with revelry! I should be moved with emotion by his performance. It should be ‘Tiger Tiger, burning bright, in the forest of the night!’”
    Bing recited the poem with dramatic flair, projecting his voice loudly. I saw people turn to stare at us. He continued, “Do I feel a surge of emotion when I hear Rafe? Sadly, no. The truth is that I am bored to tears. Rafe is far from learning his lesson here.”
    I swerved as Poppy brushed by me. There was now a World History book in addition to an Algebra book on her head.
    “Does she walk around all day like that?”
    “Yes,” he said. “Sometimes all night too.” Then he added. “No, I’m just kidding. We operate nine to five here. We are not slave drivers! Got to get your three meals a day and your shut-eye. As for Poppy, no, she hasn’t changed her mind yet about slouching. She’ll be here until she does.”
    We turned from the town square back down a familiar side street and before I knew it we were ringing the bell again at No. 18. The Prime Minister’s.

Chapter 5
     
    “No, Bing. No! Not again!”
    Bing looked at me grimly. “Yes, again.”
    I begged him. “No, please, why? Why do I have to? I’m afraid to.”
    He shushed me.
    “Did you already forget why you are here in Chanticleer? We may laugh about the things that happen to us, but what you need to accomplish here is not a joke. You have to try again. How else will you learn? Didn’t Ms. Clarice tell you that this would be work? I know her, I know she did.”
    She had. He was right. But right now I didn’t want to be there. I cried out in frustration, “I don’t want to be here. So I’m saying no. Take me back, Bing. Take me back to my room.”
    Bing wasn’t budging. “I won’t let you do that. You wouldn’t want to either, if you knew what it meant to fail here; what happens when you do. You wouldn’t want to turn into a shell of yourself, but you will be on track to do so if you don’t push yourself a little harder. You are my project and I won’t let you fail here.”
    He pressed the button and once again the gate unlocked. Ahead, the double doors swung open and the little old lady looked down upon us imperiously as she waited. I closed my eyes, wishing it all away, wishing myself back home, or even back in that hospital bed. But I wasn’t. I was there and had to deal with it.
    “Come