Read Online The Trouble Begins by Linda Himelblau - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Linda Himelblau
Ads: Link
but they can't fix anything. I'm gonna fix that old man's lawn mower for him. His lawn should look just like everybody else's around here. I won't take it all apart. I'll just loosen all these places so it falls apart when he pushes it. He'll think it just got so old it died. It's easy to loosen these bolts because he oils it so much.
I wonder what else is in here. I think my cat has a way to get in. When she comes for the fish or other stuff I give her she often comes running from the back of the shed. I hope the old man doesn't hurt her if he finds her inside. I better get out. It wasn't very smart of him to put this old trunk here so I could climb back out the window easier. I wonder what's in it.
A lot of old junk is what's in it. I'll make sure there's nothing good at the bottom. Old toys. This little truck is so heavy. I wonder if that old man played with a truck. Can it be that old? Here's a football and a baseball and bat. I have to be careful so I can remember where all this stuff goes back. Thewhole bottom's covered with boxes. They could have good stuff in them. I'll come back later. He just went walking down the street. I don't want to be stuck in that window when he gets back. I'll fix the plywood back over it just like it was.
“Boys and girls, today we're going to be authors again. We're going to write another personal narrative piece for our portfolios.” Everybody groans. On the overhead projector Mrs. Dorfman puts a big plastic page with “Personal Narrative” in fancy writing. She covers up the bottom part. Then she talks and talks and talks. I look at car pictures in a magazine I found on the rack in the Counseling Center. I read it in my lap so Mrs. Dorfman and Veronica can't see it. Anthony's squirming around trying to shoot a miniskateboard over to Jorge with his foot.
“And the subject will be …” Mrs. Dorfman stops in midsentence. I look up. She's waving her pencil around like something wonderful is about to happen. She uncovers more of the writing on the projector. “Write About a Family Journey,” it says. She reads it in a loud excited voice. There's a picture of an American family waving from their car. Kids who usually write stuff raise their hands. “We wrote about that already,” someone blurts. That's what Mrs. Dorfman calls it when you just yell something without getting called on. I'm not a blurter because I don't talk. Sometimes Mrs. Dorfman makes the blurter stand up and apologize to the class. This blurter doesn't get in any trouble.
“Relax, relax.” She smiles. “All your questions will be answered in due time.”
“Du Du time,” whispers Anthony. Jorge laughs. I kick the mini-skateboard down the aisle.
“Paragraph one will be about where your family planned to go and why you decided to go there. It doesn't have to be a vacation. We're writing about the journey, there and back, and the destination, what we did there. Does anyone have a good idea he or she can share?” Kids raise their hands. One kid says, “We went to La Mesa on the bus.” Some kids snicker. I don't know why.
Alan raises his hand in the front of the room. “We rented a RV to go to Carlsbad Beach for my brother's birthday,” he says.
“Wonderful! That's a story,” says Mrs. Dorfman, smiling. She talks again about paragraphs and stuff like that.
Mrs. Dorfman smiles at the hand-raisers. “Those are wonderful ideas, boys and girls.” She pulls the sheet on the overhead down so we can see another line. “Paragraph two will be about the trip itself. Did you enjoy it? How did you pass the time? How did you think about your destination— where you were going?
“Paragraph three. Describe your destination, the place to which you went. Tell about your activities. What did you do there?” Mrs. Dorfman's talking faster now because almost everyone's yawning and wiggling around in their seats. Not just me. Her voice is getting louder. “Paragraph four.” She forgets to uncover the last line.
I wonder what else is in here. I think my cat has a way to get in. When she comes for the fish or other stuff I give her she often comes running from the back of the shed. I hope the old man doesn't hurt her if he finds her inside. I better get out. It wasn't very smart of him to put this old trunk here so I could climb back out the window easier. I wonder what's in it.
A lot of old junk is what's in it. I'll make sure there's nothing good at the bottom. Old toys. This little truck is so heavy. I wonder if that old man played with a truck. Can it be that old? Here's a football and a baseball and bat. I have to be careful so I can remember where all this stuff goes back. Thewhole bottom's covered with boxes. They could have good stuff in them. I'll come back later. He just went walking down the street. I don't want to be stuck in that window when he gets back. I'll fix the plywood back over it just like it was.
“Boys and girls, today we're going to be authors again. We're going to write another personal narrative piece for our portfolios.” Everybody groans. On the overhead projector Mrs. Dorfman puts a big plastic page with “Personal Narrative” in fancy writing. She covers up the bottom part. Then she talks and talks and talks. I look at car pictures in a magazine I found on the rack in the Counseling Center. I read it in my lap so Mrs. Dorfman and Veronica can't see it. Anthony's squirming around trying to shoot a miniskateboard over to Jorge with his foot.
“And the subject will be …” Mrs. Dorfman stops in midsentence. I look up. She's waving her pencil around like something wonderful is about to happen. She uncovers more of the writing on the projector. “Write About a Family Journey,” it says. She reads it in a loud excited voice. There's a picture of an American family waving from their car. Kids who usually write stuff raise their hands. “We wrote about that already,” someone blurts. That's what Mrs. Dorfman calls it when you just yell something without getting called on. I'm not a blurter because I don't talk. Sometimes Mrs. Dorfman makes the blurter stand up and apologize to the class. This blurter doesn't get in any trouble.
“Relax, relax.” She smiles. “All your questions will be answered in due time.”
“Du Du time,” whispers Anthony. Jorge laughs. I kick the mini-skateboard down the aisle.
“Paragraph one will be about where your family planned to go and why you decided to go there. It doesn't have to be a vacation. We're writing about the journey, there and back, and the destination, what we did there. Does anyone have a good idea he or she can share?” Kids raise their hands. One kid says, “We went to La Mesa on the bus.” Some kids snicker. I don't know why.
Alan raises his hand in the front of the room. “We rented a RV to go to Carlsbad Beach for my brother's birthday,” he says.
“Wonderful! That's a story,” says Mrs. Dorfman, smiling. She talks again about paragraphs and stuff like that.
Mrs. Dorfman smiles at the hand-raisers. “Those are wonderful ideas, boys and girls.” She pulls the sheet on the overhead down so we can see another line. “Paragraph two will be about the trip itself. Did you enjoy it? How did you pass the time? How did you think about your destination— where you were going?
“Paragraph three. Describe your destination, the place to which you went. Tell about your activities. What did you do there?” Mrs. Dorfman's talking faster now because almost everyone's yawning and wiggling around in their seats. Not just me. Her voice is getting louder. “Paragraph four.” She forgets to uncover the last line.
Similar Books
