The smile was back. But mostly what you could see on Molly’s face was relief—the same kind of relief I felt when I found out Pete didn’t hate me.
Slowly she got out of the chair and gathered Madeline in her arms. “Thanks, Howard Jeeper.”
When she got to the door, she turned around and sort of giggled. “This will be fun, being friends again. Won’t it?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Fun.”
She turned the doorknob and stopped again. “Hey, Howard?”
“What, Molly?”
“Does this mean that we can play house sometimes?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, Molly.”
“Oh.”
As she left I laughed to myself. I guess I practically even got a kick out of her for a second.
Two days later she showed up at the front door with Sally. I really panicked. I mean, it’s one thing to have one little kid hanging around; but I didn’t want my house turning into a day-care center or anything.
When I opened the door, Molly was grinning from ear to ear. Sally was hiding behind her. I think the kid has a problem.
“Hi, Howard Jeeper!” greeted Molly cheerfully. “This is my friend Sally. Do you remember her? She’s the one who’s afraid of big kids.”
I peered around Molly’s back. “She’s handling it beautifully,” I said sarcastically.
“I know,” Molly replied. “That’s because she signed up for karate lessons. She already knows how to put on the little white suit they give you. She can bow, too. Bow for him, Sally.”
Sally started bowing. She bowed about ten times before I could think of something to say.
“Er, nice bowing, Sally,” I managed at last.
Sally bowed thank you.
“We just came over to tell you that I won’t be playing with you today,” Molly explained. “See, Sally’s here to play with me, and we’re probably going to play some of that stuff that I like but you don’t. And I’d let you play anyway, except I don’t think you’d have a good time and Sally said she didn’t want you to.”
I looked at Sally. She bowed.
“That’s okay,” I said, feeling relieved. “I don’t need to play.”
Molly thought it over. “Maybe you and I can play tomorrow or the next day. See, Sally,” she said, turning to her friend, “Howard Jeeper and I flock together sometimes, except that there are other times when I play with just you, and he plays with these big, mean guys. Right, Howard?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, right, Molly.”
When you have a friend like Molly Vera Thompson, it’s easier to agree with her than to try to explain. Even if it means agreeing with something stupid.
Molly continued. “And, anyway, we only like some of the same stuff, not all. Like we both like to color, don’t we, Howard? Oh, yeah, and we both don’t like chipmunks.”
I just nodded.
I’m still not sure this friendship won’t kill me. She’s a funny little girl and I admit I kind of like her; but I still might end up dead.
10 Ollie called after school. He wanted to come over. He didn’t even hint around about it or anything. He just said, “Hi. Can I come over?”
I stuttered for a second, then told him Gaylord was taking a nap. He wasn’t. I just told Ollie that.
It’s not that I hate Ollie or anything. But after a while guys like Ollie can start to get on your nerves. I mean, when you first meet them, they seem funny and everything. But let’s face it, putting an orange in your mouth isn’t really much to base a friendship on. Not when you’ve had the kind of friends that I have.
Besides, after I got to know him better, I found out that Ollie Perkins and I don’t have that much in common when you get right down to it. He thinks a lot of stuff is cool that I don’t. Like when he went to this big shopping mall last week, he got his ear pierced. A lot of the guys thought it made him look real neat. Mostly I just thought it made him look like my mother.
I still think he’s funny sometimes. Like yesterday at lunch he got a grape stuck in his nose. He kept holding his ears and trying to blow it out, but it wouldn’t come. Finally he had to go to the lavatory and stab it with a pencil. I’m still laughing over that one.
Anyway, besides finding out more about Ollie, I found out some other stuff about living here too. Take my street, for instance. Chester Pewe Street. I found out that Chester Pewe wasn’t a revolutionary War hero at all. Chester Pewe was a crossing guard. Molly’s grandmother told me. She’s lived in this town all her life, so she knows practically everything there is to know about it.
“Sure, I know old Ches Pewe,” she informed me one day as she was sweeping the sidewalk. “He crossed kids safely at our corner for almost twenty years. When he finally retired, they decided to rename the street in his honor.”
I must admit the news was a letdown. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with being a crossing guard. But when you count on a guy to be a big Revolutionary War hero, finding out he stood on your corner with a stop sign is a little disappointing.
Even so, I couldn’t let it keep me from writing to Roger and Thornsberry. Too much time had already passed. I still missed them a lot. And, besides, I wanted them to write back. I know this sounds stupid, but I just needed to know that they were still alive and everything.
Writing letters is hard for me. Usually I only do it if my mother makes me, like after Christmas, when I’ve gotten gifts from relatives. But at least when you write to a friend, you don’t have to make up a bunch of lies. I mean, if a friend sent you a pair of purple socks, you could probably just send them back and say “no thanks.” Especially a friend like Thornsberry, for instance.
Dear Thornsberry,
I’m not very good at writing letters. But I thought I’d give it a try. I wouldn’t want you and Roger crying because you miss me so much (ha ha).
In case you’re wondering how I’m doing, the answer is … okay, I guess. Things are really different here, though. For one thing, Massachusetts is a lot colder than Arizona. At recess you have to run around the playground in a heavy jacket and gloves. After you run, you get all sweaty on the inside, but you can’t take your jacket off If you do, your sweat freezes.
I haven’t made that many friends yet. Mostly, there’s just these two kids I walk home from school with. One sort of reminds me of you. (Not as ugly, though!) His name is Pete Jones and he’s pretty quiet, so it’s taken us a while to get to know each other. My mother says we’re finally starting to grow on each other. (It makes us sound like fungus. Yuck.)
The other guy’s name is Ollie Perkins. In some ways he’s kind of a jerk. He can be pretty funny, though. He’s always in trouble. Yesterday in school he didn’t feel like doing his math, so he went to the nurse and said he had an earache. She sent him back with this big wad of cotton hanging out of his ear. He had to wear it all day. Pete and I laughed so hard, we couldn’t even eat lunch.
There aren’t very many kids living on my block. In fact, there’s only one. Her name is Molly Vera Thompson and she’s a first-grader. She was sort of a pain at first, but I’ve finally gotten used to her. Last night her grandmother had to go somewhere, so Molly ate dinner at our house. After we finished, she told my mother she was a better cook than Ronald McDonald. I’m not kidding. She says stuff like that all the time. You’d probably get a kick out of her or something.
Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. About the name of my street. Do me a favor and don’t laugh. Chester Pewe was a crossing guard, but if anyone asks, I’d appreciate it if you’d say he was a Revolutionary War hero. Say that he hung around a lot with George Washington and the guy on the Quaker Oats box. It’ll make it seem more real that way.
Well, gotta go. Say hi to Roger for me, okay? Oh, yeah, and one more thing. Remember that kid in the Kenneth shirt he told us about? The one who had just moved there? If you see him, tell him the kid in the red jacket says hello. I think maybe he’ll understand.…
BARBARA PARK is one of today’s funniest authors. Her Junie B. Jones books are consisten
tly on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists. Her middle-grade novels, which include Skinnybones, The Kid in the Red Jacket, Mick Harte Was Here, and The Graduation of Jake Moon, have won more than forty children’s book awards. Barbara Park holds a BS in education. She has two grown sons and lives with her husband, Richard, in Arizona.
Everything you’ve heard about me is true. (Almost.)
SKINNYBONES
BY BARBARA PARK
For the smallest kid on the baseball team, Alex “Skinnybones” Frankovitch has a major-league big mouth! But even Alex knows he’s gone too far when he brags his way into a pitching contest with T.J. Stoner, the best baseball player—and the biggest creep—in the entire school. What a mistake! This might be one mess that not even Alex can talk his way out of.
“Clever and funny.”
—American Bookseller “Pick of the Lists”
It was his big break … or was it?
ALMOST STARRING SKINNYBONES
by Barbara Park
When Alex Frankovitch—better known as Skinnybones—gets the chance to star in a TV commercial, it seems as though his dreams have come true. Who cares if it’s just a cat food commercial and he plays a six-year-old wearing a dorky coonskin cap? It’s still national television—and a rare opportunity to thumb his nose at his classmates. So why does the Alex Frankovitch Fan Club attract only two members—a cat and a toddler? And why do all the kids laugh hysterically every time they see him? Is this the end of Skinnybones’ career as a Big Celebrity?
“Park is laugh-out-loud funny!”
—Booklist
“Once again demonstrating her remarkable ear for dialogue, Park also shows a good sense of timing in this fast-paced outing.”
—School Library Journal
PUBLISHED BY RANDOM HOUSE, INC.
Geek Chronicles 1:
Maxie, Rosie, and Earl—Partners in Grime
Meet Maxie, Rosie, and Earl: just three regular kids who wind up waiting to meet their doom at the principal’s office. Shy Earl is there because he refused to read out loud. Nosy Rosie is there because her teacher is sick of her tattling. And then there’s Maxie, who got in trouble when he tried to defend himself from the other kids in his class. There they wait, like three sitting ducks with no hope of escape—until the fire alarm goes off. Realizing their big break, Maxie, Rosie, and Earl make a run for it—and head straight for the Dumpster …
“Park does it again. Here’s a book so funny, readers can’t help but laugh out loud.”
—Booklist
Available wherever books are sold!
ISBN: 0-679-80643-1
Geek Chronicles 2:
Rosie Swanson: Fourth-Grade Geek for President
Rosie Swanson has always considered it her duty to make sure that the authorities are aware of what’s going on in her school. So what if her classmates think she’s a geek and a snitch? She knows that she’s only doing her job. Now, to help fight for the good of the school, she’s decided to run for president of the fourth grade.
But how does someone like Rosie defeat popular kids like Alan Allen and Summer Lynne Jones? With the help of her pals Maxie and Earl, Rosie comes up with a brilliant campaign. She even fights her urge to tattle and forces herself to “be nice to people who make you puke.” But when Alan starts stealing Rosie’s campaign slogans, it’s time to watch out! You just don’t mess with Nosy Rosie …
“Right on target … a very good read.”
—Booklist
“As bright and funny as they come.”
—Kirkus
Available wherever books are sold!
ISBN: 0-679-83371-4
Kids love Barbara Park’s books so much, they’ve given them all these awards:
Arizona Young Reader’s Award
Georgia Children’s Book Award
Great Stone Face Award (New Hampshire)
IRA-CBC Children’s Choice
IRA Young Adults’ Choice
Maud Hart Lovelace Award (Minnesota)
Milner Award (Georgia)
Nevada Children’s Book Award
OMAR Award (Indiana)
Rhode Island Children’s Book Award
Tennessee Children’s Choice Book Award
Texas Bluebonnet Award
Utah Children’s Book Award
Young Hoosier Book Award (Indiana)
Barbara Park, The Kid in the Red Jacket
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