E-Book, Englisch, 183 Seiten
ISBN: 978-1-61842-162-3
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)
Autoren/Hrsg.
Weitere Infos & Material
EIGHT AND THREE QUARTERS Daddy said Kemo was an adventurer. I asked him if that meant he wore an eye patch or carried a compass. But Daddy said you didn’t have to be a pirate or an explorer to be an adventurer – all you had to do was be brave enough to make it through the journey that brought you here. Kemo wasn’t always called Kemo. He might’ve been Rover or Zeus or Spot. We don’t know because he started out somewhere before us. I think he was born in a cave in the wild, which is why he looks like a white wolf. I imagine that one day he went out looking for a flower to give to his mom, and he found the biggest, most beautiful flower ever, but when he tried to cut it with his teeth, he couldn’t because they hadn’t grown in yet. His tummy growled, telling him it was almost time for lunch, so he decided to go back home, but he wasn’t exactly sure where that was. He was lost. But, before he could get scared, this magical butterfly appeared and told him that she’d show him the way home. They laughed and played through the fields together, and when they got to the cave, they looked for Kemo’s mommy and brothers and sisters, but they were gone. They had moved somewhere else. Kemo didn’t know what to do. He felt sad and alone. But the butterfly told him that it would be okay – that even if he couldn’t see his mommy, it didn’t mean that she wasn’t there. It just meant that she was watching him from somewhere distant – like maybe the stars. And so, Kemo and the butterfly decided to wait for the stars to come out, and then look for the star that was his mommy’s, knowing that this star would lead him home. When night came, they saw these bright glimmering lights all bunched together on the edge of the horizon. Kemo knew that this one star in the bunch had to be his mommy because of how brightly it shined, and so they traveled a long distance - so long that the sun came up. Kemo was afraid that he would lose sight of his mommy’s star, but even as the sun rose, her star glinted, shining just for him. The butterfly was tired and told Kemo it was time for her to rest, but that Kemo should continue on his way. Kemo thanked the butterfly, and they said goodbye. The butterfly flitted away, disappearing in the bright light of the dawning sun. As he neared the glinting star, Kemo ran as fast as he could. When he got really close, he saw that it was a silver star, and it was hanging in the windshield of a big truck. It was Daddy’s silver star – the John Wayne one that Mom gave him. And this star was how Kemo knew that it was okay to take the beef jerky from Daddy at the rest stop and come home with him. Daddy said that even though he thought my story was nice, Kemo was most likely born in a family that couldn’t afford to keep him anymore, and so they probably dumped him by the side of the interstate. I told him that I liked my story much better than his. Mom died a little less than three years before Kemo came. I remember because a few days after Kemo arrived, Daddy got out the picture of Mom that he keeps in the back of the bottom drawer of his tool chest in the garage and cried. Daddy doesn’t normally cry. Ever. He only cries once a year – on the anniversary of Mom’s death. I cry a lot – when I cut my knee, when my stupid cousin Billy, Jr. is mean to me, when Daddy caught and threatened to kill that cute little mouse he found in the trap when all it wanted was some peanut butter, which I don’t blame it for. Peanut butter’s yummy. When I asked Daddy why he didn’t cry as much as me, he said he guessed he just wasn’t built that way. Sometimes I wish I could be like Daddy and cry less and do better at math, but I suppose you can’t change the way you’re built. Even at Christmas, when Aunt Lisa makes all of us watch that movie about the angel that shows the tall man all the good things he’s done in his life, and then, at the end, all the people in town show up and give him money to help him and his family, everyone except Daddy cries – even Uncle Billy. Although Uncle Billy pretends that it’s just his allergies acting up. But everyone knows you only get allergies in the springtime. Duh. You know, it would be nice if people would give you money when they knew you needed it – like in that movie. And then, when they needed it, you would give money to them. And it would just go back and forth, depending on who needed the money more at the time. That would be nice. But the world isn’t like that, and so Daddy has to be gone all the time. And I have to stay at Aunt Lisa’s and Uncle Billy’s with my stupid cousin Billy, Jr. and my other cousin Michael, who’s okay – except when his friend Steven’s around – and then, he’s a jerk. I guess Daddy being gone might be okay if he was doing something he really liked. I overheard Aunt Lisa telling one of her friends on the phone that she’s real glad when Uncle Billy’s at work cause it gives her a “break”. When I asked her why she needed a break, she said that it’s important for people to have time alone for themselves. But when I pointed out that most of the time me or my cousins were there and that she was usually talking on the phone, and so she wasn’t ever really truly alone, she pinched me on the cheek, which even though adults tell you they do for affection always kind of hurts, and then told me I was getting to be “too smart for my own good” and that she was just glad Uncle Billy was at work because he was getting to do something he loves. I didn’t really believe her, but I didn’t want to get my cheek pinched again, so I didn’t say anything more. Uncle Billy loves cars. He spends all day fixing them for people. And then, on the weekends, he has two cars at the house that Aunt Lisa says he “tinkers” with. I’m not exactly sure what that means, but I think it has something to do with drinking beers with your friends and arguing about sports and the weather and what tools and parts the cars need in order to be fixed. I wonder if I will ever need a “break” from Daddy or Kemo. I guess I’d be glad that Daddy was gone if he was doing something he loves instead of driving a big truck around the country. Daddy loves cowboys. I guess he could be a cowboy. Although, I’m not really sure what cowboys do except ride horses and shoot guns at bad people. And, I don’t know if they have cowboys anymore. The shows Daddy watches about cowboys are all in black and white, which means they’re really old. Daddy calls them classics, but I think the fact that they don’t have any color in them means that they’re probably dead or extinct, which is when they don’t make them anymore – like the dinosaurs and some kinds of tigers that my teacher, Mrs. Reagan, showed us pictures of. Besides, if Daddy was a cowboy, then he’d be extinct, and I’d really miss him even more. Daddy didn’t always drive a truck. Before Mom died, he was a carpenter, and Mom worked at the hair salon. She was the prettiest lady in town – that’s what Daddy says. They met in the third grade when Mom moved here with her parents. Daddy said he knew he was going to marry her the first time he saw her. I can’t imagine marrying any of the boys in my class. Gross. Anyway, after Mom died, Daddy started driving the big truck because it’s easier to pay hospital bills when you work for a big company. Daddy named the big truck “Dollor” after John Wayne’s horse. When I told him that Mr. Garcia, my Spanish teacher, said “dolor” meant pain, not horse, he just looked at me kind of funny - almost like the way he looks right before a big burp. I figured I’d leave it alone. I guess it doesn’t really matter who’s right. Who cares what you call a big truck anyway? Kemo also got his name from a cowboy show. I wanted to call him “Bart” or “Prince”, but Daddy really wanted “Kemo Sabe”, which sounded to me like the raw fish Hanna said she ate with her parents that made her sick when they went to Denver because her dad got an award for selling the most cars in the county. But Daddy said it came from the “Lone Ranger”, which is the black and white cowboy show where the man wears a mask. And, I think he has a cape and a sword, too, which is actually pretty cool. But I’m not sure. I usually read when Daddy watches TV. I like to read, even if Billy Jr. makes fun of me about it. My favorite books are ones with magic in them or where they live in different worlds – like Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings. I also like mystery books like Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys. The library at school has all of them and tons more. Mrs. Reagan said that I read even better than some of her fifth graders, and that my writing is advanced for my age. I usually get a smiley face sticker on my reports – like the one I just did on blue whales. Blue whales are the biggest animals that ever lived, and when they breathe, they make fountains from their blowholes, and they like to eat lots of tiny shrimp-like creatures called “krill”. They also live a really long time – like eighty years, and the only animals that aren’t afraid to attack them are Orcas. They normally die of old age, or if a cruise ship runs into them or something. When Aunt Lisa read my report, she said that blue whales reminded her of Mean Old Mr. Whitman...
