by Ilene Cooper
After a few more children shared, Mrs. Lee said, “I have an idea. What if we wrote about what we’re grateful for in rhyme?”
The class was silent. Rhyme?
Mrs. Lee must have read their minds. “I know. Putting thoughts down on paper is one thing. Making a short poem out of them is a little harder.”
A lot harder, Bobby thought.
“But why don’t we all give it a try?” Mrs. Lee said. “It might be fun.” She added, “We can write our poems on the backs of the posters. That way they will be easier to read.”
And hide behind, Bobby thought, perking up.
When the last bell rang and the kids were putting on their jackets, Bobby asked Candy, “So, what’s your surprise?”
Candy pretended to zip her lip.
Shawn laughed. “You can’t tell us anything about it?”
“Well …” Candy couldn’t stay zipped for long. “I’ll tell you one thing. You and Bobby are a part of it.”
Bobby and Shawn looked at each other.
“We are?” Bobby asked.
Candy grinned. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Bobby wandered into the kitchen. Lucy trotted right behind him.
Mrs. Quinn was making pies. She had flour on her hands and her apron. She had a dot of flour on her nose.
“Mom, what rhymes with Lucy?” Bobby asked.
“What do you think rhymes with Lucy?” his mother asked.
“All I could think of was juicy,” Bobby replied.
“Well, that’s a start,” Mrs. Quinn said. She rolled out the pie dough on a board covered in flour.
Bobby climbed on a stool next to the counter. “Not really. I have to come up with a poem about Lucy for the Thanksgiving poster. I can’t say, ‘Lucy is juicy.’ ”
Lucy, who was trying to climb onto Bobby’s lap, started barking. She seemed to say, Don’t call me juicy.
Bobby picked her up. Lucy drooled a bit as she made herself comfortable.
“I guess she can be a little juicy.” Bobby picked up a napkin and rubbed at the wet spot on his pants. “But I don’t want to say that in a poem.”
“How about you come up with a rhyme for dog instead?” Mrs. Quinn suggested.
“Dog, log, hog …” Bobby rattled off a few rhyming words. He didn’t see what he could do with any of those.
Mrs. Quinn took a pie out of the oven. It smelled wonderful. Lucy lifted her nose and gave a long sniff.
“What kind?” Bobby asked.
“Apple,” his mother answered. “This next one is pumpkin.”
“Yay!” Bobby cheered. Pumpkin was his favorite.
Lucy smelled the apple pie. She wiggled a little in its direction.
“No, Lucy,” Bobby said firmly, and held her tighter. “I guess wiggly is a word for Lucy.”
He couldn’t think of any words that rhymed with wiggly, though. Well, there was Wrigley. Wrigley Field was where his favorite baseball team, the Chicago Cubs, played. But it didn’t make much sense to say Lucy was wiggly and would like to visit Wrigley. Even if he wanted to take her, dogs weren’t allowed in the ballpark.
The doorbell rang. Lucy jumped off Bobby’s lap.
Bobby followed Lucy to the door. Through the glass on the side of the door, he saw Candy. Butch was with her. They both looked eager to get out of the cold.
Bobby opened the door wide. “C’mon in.”
Lucy looked at Butch and gave a little growl. Butch lunged toward Lucy and he started sniffing her. Then Lucy sniffed back. They remembered they were friends.
“Well, hello,” Mrs. Quinn said, coming out of the kitchen.
“Hello, Mrs. Q.,” Candy said. “Are you baking?”
Mrs. Quinn nodded. “Pie.”
“Pie?” Candy seemed disappointed. “I don’t like pie much,” she said. “I like cake. ’Cause it has frosting. So, of course, I like cupcakes, too. And cookies. My mom makes special cookies for me with frosting on top. Then they’re almost like eating cake. Peanut-butter cookies with chocolate frosting. Maybe my name should be Cookie instead of Candy. But not Cake. Cake would be a stupid name.”
Bobby wasn’t sure what to say to that, but he had to agree. Cake would be a stupid name.
Candy asked Bobby, “You’re not allergic to peanuts, are you?”
“Nope,” Bobby answered.
“Good. I’ll bring you some cookies next time my mom bakes them. They’re scrumpdidilumptious.”
Candy got a dreamy look on her face. It was clear she’d like one of those chocolate-frosted peanut-butter cookies right now!
Mrs. Quinn walked over to the living room desk and pulled out a large envelope. “I have something for you, Candy. Here you go.”
Candy didn’t seem at all surprised to be getting an envelope from Bobby’s mother. But Bobby was very surprised.
“What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the envelope.
Candy grinned. “Can’t tell you.”
Bobby remembered something. “Is this about the Thanksgiving program?” he asked.
Just like she had done at school, Candy zipped her lip.
Bobby wondered if he should be worried. Candy could get carried away sometimes.
He was just about to try to get Candy to unzip her lip when a chorus of barks came from the kitchen.
Mrs. Quinn dashed out of the living room and into the kitchen. Candy and Bobby followed her.
The first thing they saw was Butch standing with his front paws on the counter. The apple pie was just about in reach. He stretched toward it. Woof!
His long pink tongue flipped back and forth. Pie! Soon!
The second thing they saw was Lucy dancing around Butch, bark, bark, barking. If barks were words, Lucy would be saying, Get away from that pie!
“Butch!” Candy, Bobby, and even Mrs. Quinn yelled the dog’s name at the same time.
Butch acted as if he didn’t hear them. His eyes were on the prize. Just one more swipe, and he would have a paw full of apple pie.
Lucy ran between Butch’s legs and the counter. Then she gave one of her long howls. Hooooooooooowwl!
Butch couldn’t ignore that.
He looked down at Lucy. She gave a little growl.
Butch looked surprised.
Lucy growled again.
Butch forgot about the pie. He backed off. All four paws were down on the floor.
Bobby picked up Lucy. “Good dog!” he said.
Candy pulled on Butch’s collar. “Bad dog!” she said.
Mrs. Quinn grabbed the pie and took it off the counter. She put it on a shelf so high, even she almost had trouble reaching it.
“I think we better go,” Candy said. “Butch likes pie much more than I do.”
Nobody argued with her.
Candy and Butch headed for the door. “Mrs. Q., thanks for the …” Candy slapped her hand over her mouth.
“You’re welcome,” Mrs. Quinn said.
As soon as they were gone, Bobby tried to find out what was in the envelope.
Mrs. Quinn zipped her lip.
Bobby laughed. He knew the envelope had something to do with the Thanksgiving program. He just hoped it wasn’t something that would embarrass him. He couldn’t worry about it, though. He still had to come up with a poem for his poster.
He followed his mother into the kitchen.
Suddenly it came to him.
“Mom, I’ve got a word for Lucy that’s easy to rhyme.”
“What’s that, Bobby?” she asked.
“Best!” And best of all, it described Lucy perfectly.
Mrs. Quinn walked into the living room. She had a list in her hand.
Bobby was sitting on the couch. He was working on his poem. He had finished the art earlier in the morning. It had turned out great!
The picture of Lucy filled up the poster. Everyone at the program would be able to see Lucy’s brown-and-white spots. Her silky ears. Her chocolate-drop brown eyes.
Mr. Quinn was sitting next to Bobby. He was tryin
g to find the football game he wanted to watch on TV.
Mrs. Quinn walked over to them. She shook her list.
Bobby and Mr. Quinn looked up.
“Ah, are you trying to tell us something, Jane?” Mr. Quinn asked his wife.
“Why, yes, I am,” Mrs. Quinn said with a smile. “We have a lot to do today.” She looked down at her list. “We have to buy a Thanksgiving tablecloth. Some orange and brown candles. We need to pick up at least two folding chairs. And I have a bunch of things to get at the grocery store.”
“The grocery store?” Mr. Quinn asked. “Again?”
“Yes.” Mrs. Quinn nodded. “And we will probably have to go back to the store a few more times before Thanksgiving.”
Mr. Quinn sighed. “I’m sure we will.”
Bobby was glad there was nothing for him to do on his mother’s list. Then his mother said, “And, Bobby, I’m going to need you to clean up the guest room. Nanny is going to sleep in your room, and you’ll sleep in there.”
The guest room was the smallest room in the house. It was even too small to be the baby’s room. It should have been called the guest closet.
“And then, while your dad and I are out shopping, you can go over to play at Dexter’s house.”
“Dexter?” Bobby asked nervously. He liked Dexter, but he had never been to his house.
“Yes. Shawn and his family are away. The last time I saw Dexter’s mom, she asked if you could come over someday. Well, today would be perfect,” his mother said. “I already arranged it.” She was looking at her list again.
“Okay,” Bobby said. There didn’t seem to be much room for discussion.
Bobby figured he might as well start on the guest room. His mother brought him a cardboard box. He was throwing a few newspapers and magazines into it when Lucy padded in.
Bobby thought Lucy might want to tear up the papers. She liked that. But Lucy just nosed around the pile of papers and hopped on the bed. Then she curled up.
This isn’t like Lucy, Bobby thought. She had been very quiet since her run-in with Butch yesterday. Saving the pie seemed to have tuckered her out.
Bobby stopped what he was doing. He sat down next to Lucy and patted her on the head.
“Are you okay, girl?” he asked.
Lucy raised her head and looked at him.
Bobby felt Lucy’s head the way his mother did when he was sick. It seemed to be all right. He touched her nose. It was wet like always. Bobby still wasn’t satisfied.
He went downstairs. “Mom,” he said, “I don’t think Lucy is feeling well.”
“Why do you say that?” his mother asked.
“She’s not acting like herself. She’s resting a lot more. She’s pretty quiet.”
Mrs. Quinn was looking through her coupons, getting ready for the shopping trip. “She was fine yesterday when she kept Butch away from the pie.”
Bobby shook his head. “I think that tired her out.”
Mrs. Quinn glanced up at Bobby. “Well, we can’t do anything about it today, Bobby. The vet isn’t open on Sunday. I don’t think this is an emergency.”
“No, probably not an emergency,” Bobby agreed softly.
“We have to get you over to Dexter’s,” Mrs. Quinn said. “Put on your jacket. We’re going to leave in a few minutes.”
Bobby went to say goodbye to Lucy. She was still resting on the bed. “Be good, girl,” he told her.
Lucy yawned. She didn’t look like she was going to cause any trouble.
Bobby was nervous when his parents dropped him off at Dexter’s house. He was fine going to Shawn’s, but this was something new.
He took a deep breath while he was waiting for the door to open. Then he had a thought. His mom and Dexter’s mom had arranged this playdate. Maybe Dexter didn’t even want him to come over.
But there was a big smile on Dexter’s face when he opened the door.
“Guess what? I’ve got a new set of Star Wars Legos!” Dexter exclaimed before Bobby could even say hello.
“Cool!” Bobby said.
“We can do a whole battle thing,” Dexter told him, leading him up to his room.
Dexter’s house was smaller than Bobby’s, but more people lived there. Bobby was surprised that Dexter shared his room with his baby brother. That meant the room had a bed and a crib. A shelf for games sat below a shelf for stuffed animals.
Dexter pulled out the Legos. Bobby started looking at the pieces, but he was curious about the baby.
“How old is your brother?” he asked.
“Cam is almost a year old,” Dexter said. He plopped down on the floor and Bobby sat next to him.
“What’s it like? Having a baby in the house, I mean?”
Dexter shrugged. “Okay, I guess. He’s a baby, ya know?”
Bobby didn’t know. But he guessed he would find out soon enough.
The boys were getting ready for a Star Wars battle when Dexter’s oldest sister walked into the room. Cam was in her arms, and he was crying. Loudly.
“Hey, Ashley,” Dexter said. “What’s wrong with the little man?”
“He needs his diaper changed,” Ashley told him.
Bobby tried to remember if he had ever seen a baby’s diaper changed. If he had, he hadn’t paid much attention.
“Well, who wants to help me?” Ashley asked.
Bobby was startled. She didn’t mean him, did she?
But Dexter shook his head and said, “I’ve already done it twice today, Ashley.” He pointed at Bobby. “Bobby can do it.”
“Me? I don’t know how,” Bobby squeaked.
“You don’t have to do much,” Ashley said. “Just make sure he doesn’t roll off the table.”
“Roll off the table?” Bobby repeated.
Ashley motioned Bobby over to the small changing table in the corner of the room. She didn’t seem like she would take no for an answer.
“Stand on this side of the table and hold on to his shoulder,” Ashley ordered. “I’ll change him from this side. Make sure he stays steady while I clean him up.”
To Bobby, it sounded like a battle plan worthy of Star Wars.
Cam was still sniffling a little when Ashley carefully laid him down on the table. His big brown eyes kind of reminded Bobby of Lucy’s.
Bobby held on to Cam’s shoulder. Not too tightly, he hoped. But not too loosely, either.
Ashley acted as if she had changed a lot of diapers. So maybe she wasn’t surprised by what was inside. But only one word came to Bobby’s mind: GROSS!
It was a good thing Cam had gotten quiet. Crying, along with this mess, might have been more than Bobby could handle.
“The first time is always the worst,” said Ashley. She quickly wiped Cam down, threw the dirty diaper in a bin, and wrapped Cam’s bottom with a fresh one.
Bobby finally stopped holding his breath.
When she was done, Ashley helped Cam sit up. “Is that better, Cammie?”
Cam stuck his thumb in his mouth. He looked over at Bobby, and with his other hand, he hit Bobby on the nose. Then he took his thumb out and giggled.
It wasn’t a hard slap. Cam wasn’t even one, after all. Still, it was the first time Bobby could remember ever being touched by a baby. Was that what being a brother was all about? Slaps, giggles, and dirty old diapers?
Bobby wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He wasn’t sure at all.
Bobby lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling. He was wide-awake. Lucy was at his feet. Soft little snores meant that she was sleeping.
Spending the afternoon with Cam had made Bobby think. He didn’t know if he was up for the job of big brother.
After Cam had been changed, he’d crawled around on the floor. Dexter and Bobby had made sure that Cam didn’t put any of the Star Wars pieces in his mouth. And there were lots of pieces!
When Cam was thirsty, Dexter gave him his water bottle.
When Cam started crying, Dexter found his favorite teddy bear under the bed.
Could
Bobby do all that?
When Bobby finally fell asleep, he dreamed about babies.
The next morning, Bobby was sort of happy he had to go to school. There was too much going on at his house.
As Bobby searched for his book bag, his mother looked at her watch. “I have to pick up Nanny at the airport in a couple of hours. But before that I have to stop at work for a few things. Then once Nanny and I get back, we have to—”
Before his mother could finish, Bobby said, “And don’t forget we have to take Lucy to the vet.”
“Lucy?” Mrs. Quinn seemed like she didn’t remember what Bobby was talking about. Then she said, “Oh, the vet.”
Bobby pointed at Lucy’s dish. It was still half full of kibble. “She’s not eating much.”
“I see,” Mrs. Quinn said. “All right, we’ll try to get Lucy there this afternoon.”
Bobby wasn’t sure that he liked the word try. He just knew Lucy wasn’t feeling her best. He would make sure that Lucy made it to the vet later.
The school day went slowly. The class wasn’t going to practice with their posters until the end of the day. Mrs. Lee kept the posters all together, leaning against the side of her desk. Bobby wished he had a chance to look at Candy’s poster. He didn’t really like surprises.
Finally it was poster time. Mrs. Lee had the kids line up at the back of the room.
“Okay, I know it’s going to be cozy,” Mrs. Lee said.
Cozy was Mrs. Lee’s word for being right on top of each other. She handed out the posters.
“So no pushing or jabbing or even talking!” she went on. “We’ll sing the song. Then when I point to you, step in front of the group and read your poem.”
Shawn went first. On his poster, he had drawn his parents, his sister, Sara, and his brother, Ben. Shawn was in the picture, too. His mouse, Twitch, was on his shoulder.
Shawn was good at drawing. His poem was pretty good, too.
“I’m thankful for my family, my sister and brother, Sara and Ben.
Someday Ben won’t be a pest, but I’m not sure when.
I also have a mouse named Twitch.
I’m thankful he doesn’t make me itch.”
A few more kids read their poems. One girl was thankful for books. A couple of boys were thankful for sports.