by Ilene Cooper
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2000 by Ilene Cooper
Interior illustrations copyright © 2000 by Amanda Harvey
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Random House
Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
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Stone Book and the colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.
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The Library of Congress has cataloged the first Random House edition of this book as follows:
Cooper, Ilene.
Absolutely Lucy / by Ilene Cooper; illustrated by Amanda Harvey.
p. cm.
“A Stepping Stone Book.”
Summary: Bobby is a shy boy until he gets a beagle puppy named Lucy, who helps him to make new friends.
eISBN: 978-0-307-51013-6
[1. Bashfulness—Fiction. 2. Beagle (Dog breed)—Fiction. 3. Dogs—Fiction.]
I. Harvey, Amanda, ill. II. Title. III. Series.
PZ7.C7856Ab 2004 [E]—dc22 2003014987
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
v3.1
For the real Emmelou and her boy, Bill —I.C.
To Michael —A.H.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
1. Shy Guy
2. The Birthday Present
3. Lucy
4. Lucy in Trouble
5. Lucy to the Rescue
6. One Friend
7. Dog School
8. Two Friends
9. One More Friend
Bobby Quinn did not have any friends. He was shy. He had been shy as long as he could remember.
He was very shy when he was three years old. His relatives came to the Quinns’ house for Thanksgiving that year.
Bobby ran into his bedroom and crawled under his bed.
“Bobby, come out and say hello,” his mother begged.
Nobody could make him come out.
Bobby was very shy when he was five years old. On the first day of kindergarten, Bobby cried. He didn’t want his mother to leave. He didn’t want to meet the children in his class.
“But Bobby,” his mother said, “don’t you want to make new friends?”
“Absolutely not!” Absolutely was the biggest word Bobby knew. He used it whenever he could.
Bobby cried every day for a month. When he stopped crying, it was too late. By then, none of the children wanted to meet him. They called him Cry Bobby.
Bobby was very shy in the first grade. He was shy in the second grade, too. He kept his head down. He didn’t look up, even when the teacher called on him.
After school, Bobby did his homework. He spent the rest of his time drawing. He was good at drawing. He drew dinosaurs and fast cars.
When second grade was over, Mrs. Quinn wanted Bobby to go to camp.
“Absolutely not!” Bobby said.
“But what will you do all day?” Mrs. Quinn asked.
“I’ll read. I’ll draw,” Bobby answered.
Mrs. Quinn sighed. “That sounds a little lonely.”
Bobby didn’t think it sounded lonely. He thought it sounded great. He was very happy when his parents said he didn’t have to go to camp.
One hot day in July, Bobby was sitting at his desk. He was drawing a big dinosaur with lots of spikes on its back. His mother came into the room.
“It’s such a nice day,” she said. “Why don’t you go out and play?”
“I don’t want to,” Bobby said. He didn’t look up from his drawing.
His mother tried again. “Have you seen the new children who moved in across the street? They’re setting up a volleyball net. Shall we go introduce ourselves?”
Bobby just shook his head no.
“Bobby, if you don’t try to be friendly, you’ll never have any friends. Doesn’t that bother you?” Mrs. Quinn asked.
“I don’t need friends,” Bobby whispered as his mother closed the door behind her.
But when he was alone in his room, he put his pencil down and looked out the window. What he said to his mother wasn’t really true. He would like to make a friend. He just didn’t know how.
Bobby’s eighth birthday came in the middle of July. His parents invited the relatives over for a party in the backyard.
Bobby had three cousins. Ryan and Brian were twelve-year-old twins. They didn’t pay too much attention to Bobby. His cousin Jenny was only four. She paid too much attention to Bobby. She followed him wherever he went.
Jenny and her mother and father were the first to arrive for the party. Bobby went outside. Jenny was right behind him. She watched him throw a ball against the side of the garage.
“Mommy’s having a baby,” Jenny said.
“I know,” Bobby answered.
“That’s why she’s getting so fat. She’s as fat as a pig, don’t you think?”
Bobby frowned. “That’s not a very nice thing to say, Jenny.”
Jenny looked surprised. “It isn’t? But I love pigs.”
Bobby didn’t know what to say to that.
“Bobby, do you like your birthday?”
“Absolutely,” Bobby answered.
“What does that word mean?” Jenny asked.
Bobby stopped throwing the ball. He thought for a minute. “Absolutely means yes. A real big, big yes. But if you say absolutely not, that means a real big no.”
“Why do you always say it?”
Bobby shrugged.
“I like the way it feels on my tongue.”
Jenny tried to say it. “Ab-see-loot-ee.”
“No,” Bobby corrected. “Absolutely.”
She tried again. “Ab-silly-oot-ly.”
Bobby gave up. “Maybe you’ll be able to say it next year, Jenny.”
Bobby started throwing his ball against the garage again.
“Hey, Bobby,” Jenny said, “I know what your mommy and daddy are giving you for your birthday.”
Bobby caught the ball. “You do?”
Jenny nodded.
“Tell me. What am I getting?”
Jenny put her hands over her mouth. She tried to keep the surprise inside. But she was so excited, the words burst out anyway.
“An eagle!”
“An eagle?” Bobby was shocked. “I’m getting an eagle?”
Jenny nodded her head hard. “I heard Mommy telling Daddy.”
“But an eagle is a bird,” Bobby said. “A big bird.”
Jenny nodded again. “Mommy said it would be nice for you to have a pet.”
Bobby plunked himself down on the driveway. A pet? He had a pet once. A turtle. It crawled behind the washing machine. Bobby never saw it again.
He didn’t do a very good job of taking care of the turtle. How could he take care of an eagle?
Bobby had read about eagles in school. The eagle was the symbol of the United States because it was strong and proud. Maybe his parents wanted him to be strong and proud, too.
Jenny tugged at Bobby’s shirt. “What’s the matter? You don’t like eagles?”
“I like them okay.” He thought about his small room. “But they are so
big.”
“It’s a baby eagle,” Jenny told him.
“How do you know that?”
“Mommy saw it. She said it was cute and small. And soft.”
Well, that sounded like a baby eagle. But baby eagles grow. Didn’t his parents know that?
Brian and Ryan arrived with their parents. They let Bobby play a game of three-way catch with them. They were being nice because it was his birthday.
“Do you know what I’m getting for my birthday?” Bobby asked.
Brian and Ryan looked at each other. “We’re not supposed to tell,” Ryan said.
“It’s a surprise,” Brian said.
“I don’t like surprises.”
“Okay, we’re giving you a book,” Brian said.
“About dinosaurs,” Ryan added.
“Have you heard anything about a bird?” Bobby asked.
“You mean, like a parakeet?” Ryan asked.
“Not exactly.”
The twins hadn’t heard anything about a bird.
The yard was set up with tables for a cookout. Bobby’s dad was grilling. Bobby decided to pretend that he didn’t know there was an eagle in his future.
Mrs. Quinn called everyone to come and eat. Bobby had one hot dog and one hamburger and lots of chips. He didn’t think he had room for cake. Then his father carried out a big square cake. It had chocolate frosting and the words Happy Birthday Bobby.
Bobby ate two pieces of cake, one with ice cream.
Finally, Bobby’s father said, “It’s time to open the presents.”
Bobby felt his stomach go up and down. Maybe it was all that food. Or maybe it was the thought of getting an eagle. He tried to practice making a surprised face. A happy, surprised face.
“Are you all right, Bobby?” his father asked. “You look so strange.”
“No, no, Dad. I’m okay.”
“Then let’s open presents,” Mr. Quinn said.
Bobby got lots of nice presents. There was the dinosaur book from Brian and Ryan. His grandparents in Florida sent a check. Jenny’s family gave him a paint set.
Bobby’s mother smiled. “Now it’s time for your special present,” she said.
His father said, “Close your eyes.”
Bobby was glad to close his eyes. It would be easier to look surprised when he opened them.
“Okay, Bobby,” his father called, “you can look!”
Bobby opened his eyes. He didn’t have to pretend to be surprised. Or happy. In his father’s arms was a puppy. The cutest, squirmiest little dog Bobby had ever seen.
Bobby reached out for the puppy. “It’s … It’s …”
“It’s a beagle,” his father finished for him. “A five-month-old beagle puppy.”
Bobby took the puppy. He whispered in the dog’s ear. “You’re not an eagle. You’re a beagle.”
He turned the puppy around and looked her in the eyes. “Absolutely the prettiest beagle in the whole world!”
“When are you going to name your dog?” Bobby’s mother asked.
Bobby was sitting at the kitchen table. The puppy bit at his shoe. “I have to find just the right name,” he told her.
“But it’s been three days,” his mother said. “We can’t start training the puppy until we name her. What about Snoopy? The beagle in the Peanuts cartoon is named Snoopy.”
Bobby shook his head. There was already one dog named Snoopy. Why have another one?
Bobby wanted a name that was special.
“How about Rover?” his mother asked as she started lunch. “Or King?”
“She’s a girl, Mom,” Bobby said.
“Right. Then what about Queenie? Or Princess?” Mrs. Quinn suggested.
Bobby shook his head.
Bobby’s father came into the kitchen. “I have a name,” he said.
Bobby looked up.
“Trey. It’s another word for three,” Mr. Quinn told Bobby. “The puppy has three colors. She’s mostly white, but she has streaks of brown and bits of black.”
“Trey,” Bobby said. He looked into the puppy’s eyes. They were the color of dark chocolate. “Hi, Trey,” he called.
The little beagle gave Bobby a funny look. “Nope,” Bobby said. “That’s not it.”
His father sighed. “Well, try to come up with something pretty soon.”
Bobby picked up his puppy and a library book about beagles. He went outside. The backyard had a fence around it, so the dog could not run away. He put his puppy down and looked through the book.
Bobby had read this book three times since he checked it out of the library. He had learned a lot about beagles. He learned they were dogs that liked to run and chase. They could be wild. They were also dogs that liked to chew. This puppy had already chewed up the wrappings from Bobby’s presents.
Bobby closed the book. He watched the dog as she ran around the yard. She was not a shy dog. She loved running up to people. She thought everyone was her friend.
This puppy reminded him of his favorite babysitter, Lucy. Bobby was very sad when she moved away.
Lucy was always happy to see him. She had lots of friends. Sometimes, she took Bobby to the park. They would see other children there. He would try to hide behind her. But Lucy would just whisper in his ear, “You are a great kid.” Then she would take him by the hand to meet the other children.
Bobby didn’t feel so shy when he was with Lucy.
Lucy. That would be a perfect name for the puppy. The dog was pretty like Lucy, and brave, and fun. Yes, he would name his beagle Lucy.
Bobby tried it out. “Come here, Lucy.”
Lucy stopped running.
“Lucy, girl. Come here.”
The puppy bounded over to Bobby. Bobby picked her up, and she started licking his face.
“Okay. Okay.” Bobby laughed. “I get it. You like the name Lucy.”
Lucy stopped licking. She looked right at Bobby and nodded her head. That’s what it looked like, anyway.
“Wow, Lucy!” Bobby said. “You already know your name.”
Was he lucky or what? Lucy was smart. Lucy was beautiful. Lucy could understand human talk. And most of all, Lucy liked him. Lucy wasn’t just the best dog in the world. She was his friend.
Lucy may have been the best dog in the world, but she wasn’t the easiest dog to live with.
She liked to howl. She liked to run. She liked to chew. She LOVED to chew.
One morning, Bobby’s mother asked, “Has anybody seen my slipper?”
Bobby had seen it. It was at the foot of his bed. A brown, fleecy slipper all curled up in a ball, looking like a mouse. It made Bobby jump when he saw it.
“I think Lucy got hold of your slipper,” Bobby told her.
His mom sighed. “Puppies like to chew. I should have been more careful. From now on, let’s put the things she might like to chew out of sight.”
The family tried. Mrs. Quinn gave Lucy her other slipper. “Chew away, Lucy,” she said. Then she moved the rest of her shoes to a shelf in the closet. She put her magazines on a table.
Bobby tried to make sure his clothes were picked up. He didn’t always remember. He remembered better after Lucy chewed a hole through his favorite Chicago Cubs T-shirt.
Mr. Quinn hung up all his clothes. He put his dirty socks in the hamper. He put his slippers on his night table.
“See?” he bragged. “It’s not hard to keep Lucy away from things. You just have to be careful. Like me.”
One hot evening, Mr. Quinn came home after work. He was tired and sweaty. He tossed a folder onto the sofa.
“What’s that?” Bobby’s mother asked.
“Some papers I have to read. I have a big meeting in the morning.”
“Do it after dinner,” Mrs. Quinn told him. “It’s almost time to eat.”
Bobby was slurping spaghetti when he heard another sound. It came from the living room. It was a tearing, ripping sound. Bobby looked up. His mother and father heard it, too. There was one more noise. Growling.
“I moved all the magazines,” Mrs. Quinn said.
“It must be …” Mr. Quinn jumped up. Mrs. Quinn and Bobby hurried to follow him.
The living room was covered with pieces of paper. They were the important papers that Mr. Quinn had brought home with him. Some of them were torn. Some were chewed. Lucy was pawing and biting a piece of yellow paper.
“Oh, no!” Mr. Quinn moaned.
Mrs. Quinn rushed to pick up the papers. Bobby grabbed Lucy up in his arms. She wriggled to get free.
“No, Lucy. Chewing those papers was a bad thing to do.”
Lucy looked around. She watched Mr. Quinn rubbing his hand through his hair and Mrs. Quinn gathering papers. Lucy seemed to know she had made a big mess of things. She hung her head.
“You can still read them,” Mrs. Quinn said. She picked up a piece of paper with a big hole in the middle. “Well, maybe not this one.”
“It was my fault,” Mr. Quinn said. “I shouldn’t have left the folder on the sofa.” He still looked mad.
Lucy wriggled out of Bobby’s arms. She trotted over to Mr. Quinn. He was now down on his knees, helping his wife pick up the papers. Lucy licked his hand.
“Lucy, are you trying to make up with me?” Mr. Quinn tried to keep a stern look on his face. Lucy licked his hand again.
Mr. Quinn had to smile. “It’s very hard to stay mad at you. Almost as hard as keeping things out of your way.” He rubbed the dog’s head.
Lucy jumped up and down, happy again.
“What are you going to do?” Mrs. Quinn asked her husband.
“I guess I’ll read what I can,” Mr. Quinn replied as he stood up. He started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Bobby asked.
“When I was about your age, I once forgot to do my homework. So I told the teacher my dog ate it.”
“You did?” Bobby’s eyes were wide.
“My teacher didn’t believe me.” Mr. Quinn laughed harder. “I wonder if my boss will believe me when I tell him that your dog ate my homework!”
The month of July was hot. Bobby’s mother said it was hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk. But when Bobby asked her for an egg, she just glared at him. The hot weather was putting everyone in a bad mood.