by Lynne Jonell
Abner stretched his legs to miss the worst of the mess. He tried to set Tomas down on a clear space, but the little boy landed right on a chunk and slipped.
Tomas sat down suddenly on his bottom, looking surprised. Then he started to cry.
“That’s what happens when you eat a whole bag of cookies,” said Celia. She didn’t feel one bit sorry for Tomas. He had eaten her cookie, and now he had wasted it.
“Babies don’t know any better.” Tate dug in her pocket for a tissue, but couldn’t find anything but the grasshoppers she had taken from Tomas’s tray. She flung them onto the ground.
Derek reached into the stroller’s pocket and found the napkins from the bakery. “Here, use these.”
Tate wiped Tomas’s face. “Hold still,” she told him. “You don’t want to be sick again.”
Tomas wiggled and kicked, but Tate held him firmly until his face was clean. Then she looked up to see Abner staring at them both.
“What?” said Tate.
Abner grinned. It had been a very hard day, but things were looking up. “Tomas spit up all the grasshoppers,” he said. “Look at him! He’s kicking the ground and he’s not bouncing!”
“Well, it’s about time something went right,” said Tate. “Now the only one who has to get rid of grasshopper magic is you.”
“It will take Abner a lot longer,” said Celia. “Because he ate more grasshoppers than you or Tomas.”
“A lot more,” said Derek. He looked at Abner. “Do you want me to punch you in the stomach? You might barf your grasshoppers, too.”
“No thanks,” Abner said. “Nice offer, though. Really.”
“Just trying to help,” Derek said.
Abner ignored this. “At least we can take Tomas back to his mother now. Put him in the stroller, Tate, and let’s roll.”
But Tomas didn’t want to go into the stroller. “No!” he said.
“Oh, come on, Tomas,” Tate said. She tried to push his feet through the stroller’s leg holes, but Tomas stiffened his fat little knees and stuck out his lower lip.
“NO!” he said again. “Tomas down!”
“Okay, fine.” Tate put the little boy down on the grass. “But you have to hold someone’s hand.”
“NO!” said Tomas.
Derek grinned at him. “I bet I know your favorite word.”
Tomas ran away, giggling. Derek and Celia ran after him, and each grabbed a hand.
“Keep going,” Tate called. “We’ll catch up.”
Abner said, “Better hop in the stroller, Tate. I need some kind of weight to hold me down if I’m going to walk.”
Tate sat in the stroller with her legs hanging over the front and her arms dangling to the ground. “I look like a fool.”
“Join the club,” said Abner, who hadn’t forgotten the grinning boys.
He pushed forward with his feet, and the stroller bumped over the rough ground. He passed the little white dog, who was sniffing at the grasshoppers Tate had thrown on the grass. When he rounded the curve of the hill, he saw that the horse show had begun.
Derek and Celia had sat down on the side of the hill, with Tomas between them. They had a good view of the hurdles and the track for the horses.
The crowd clapped as a black horse and its rider went over three hay bales, one right after the other. The next in line was a pale horse with a dark mane and tail.
“Horsie!” shouted Tomas, and he jumped up. Derek and Celia pulled him down.
“Keep hold of him,” called Abner.
Derek and Celia turned their heads to answer. Then they started to laugh. They pointed their fingers.
“What?” Abner turned around. Behind him, on the other side of the hill, a little white dog—a surprised-looking dog—was bouncing high.
“Oh, no,” moaned Abner.
“Oh, NO!” shouted Tate. But she wasn’t looking at the dog. “Tomas, stop!”
In a half second, Abner saw it all. Derek and Celia had let go of Tomas to point at the bouncing dog. Tomas had taken off, straight for the track. And the pale horse was already jumping the hurdles, going fast.
Tomas was behind one of the hay bales, right in the path of the horse. The rider didn’t seem to see him.
Other people had seen. Faces in the crowd were filled with horror. Mouths were open, shouting. As if in slow motion, Abner saw people move forward to save the little boy. But in that half second, when everything seemed to freeze, Abner knew they would be too late.
Before he knew he had made a decision, Abner’s knees bent and his feet flexed. He sprang out and down, in a long, low grasshopper bounce. The sound of thundering hooves filled his ears as he grabbed Tomas around his middle and pulled him in close, as if he were a football.
Abner twisted in midair. He hit the ground with a thud, ramming his shoulder, banging his head, scraping his ear. Then everything went dark.
Abner opened his eyes. He was flat on his back. Above him was the sky, and a crowd of faces. Everyone was making a lot of noise.
“Mom?” Abner said.
“Oh, Abner, you’re all right!” said his mother. She wiped her eyes.
Abner struggled to sit up. “Is Tomas okay?” He looked around.
“Tomas is fine,” said Mrs. Willow. “You saved him, sweetheart. His mother already came and took him home. Now lie down again. Your head is bleeding.”
Abner felt something drip down the side of his forehead. Suddenly he felt woozy. He lay back and closed his eyes. Over him, the voices kept on talking.
“He’s a hero!”
“What a leap! I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Well, the body can do amazing things in times of stress.”
“I’d like to see him try out for the track team. With a long jump like that, we’d be sure to win State!”
Another voice came closer. Strong, expert hands turned his head this way and that. A bandage was wrapped around his head. “Do you think you can walk, son?” asked the town doctor.
Abner wiggled his toes and felt a certain bounce. “Maybe,” he said. He looked around for his brother and sisters. “I need someone to lean on, though.”
Tate came up at once and took one arm. Derek and Celia took the other.
“But don’t you want a grownup to help you?” asked their mother. “Someone stronger, in case you fall?”
“No thanks,” Abner said.
Tate spoke up firmly. “He needs us.”
Derek whispered to Celia, “Yeah, he needs us to hold him down!”
Abner did the flat-foot shuffle over to his mother’s car. Once he was home, he put his feet up. He even napped in a chair in the sun.
It was a good thing he did. Because late that night, when everyone else was asleep, Abner went outside to bounce in the moonlight. He bounced half the night, until the grasshopper magic was all used up. And then he went to bed.
The next morning, Abner waited at the stable for his horse to be saddled for the parade. He was wearing the uniform that Mrs. Delgado had sewn, and he had a real sword from the historical society, too. Mrs. Gofish had said that since Abner was a real hero, he shouldn’t have to carry a fake sword.
Even better, Abner had a bloody bandage around his head. His mother had wanted to give him a clean one for the parade, but he wouldn’t let her. The dried blood was perfect for a war hero.
“Pssst! Hey, Abner!”
Abner looked. Peeking at him from the doorway of the stable were his brother and sisters.
“We wanted to say good luck,” said Tate. She came forward and patted the big brown horse on the nose. “Do you have your speech?”
Abner touched the vest pocket of his uniform, and the folded paper inside made a crinkling sound. “It’s right here.” He had practiced it that morning, and it wasn’t too bad. It was short, at least.
“Is your head better?” asked Celia. She gazed at him with worried eyes. It was the third time she had asked.
Derek said, “I guess you don’t need bravery practice anymore,” and ev
eryone laughed. “Can I see your sword?” he asked.
Abner showed him the sword. Then the horse was ready, and the others had to back away as it was led out of the stable. Abner put his left foot in the stirrup, bounced up, and swung his right leg over the horse’s back. It was hard, but he did it the first time. There was a little extra spring in his feet that he hadn’t had two days ago.
Did a little of the grasshopper magic stay for good? Maybe he would go out for track, after all.
The others left to find a good parade-watching spot. “Salute us when you pass, okay?” Derek called, and then they were gone.
The stableman showed Abner how to hold the reins, and then walked alongside, just in case. The horse moved under Abner, its hooves making a clip clop clop sound on the pavement. Its broad back was covered with hair so short and groomed that it shone in the sun. A warm smell of horse filled Abner’s nose.
His parents had told him that he didn’t have to ride in the parade if he didn’t feel well enough. And he had thought about staying home. But Mrs. Delgado had worked hard on his uniform. Besides, Abner had already pushed a baby stroller full of kids and balloons down Main Street, in his own personal kiddie parade. After that, riding a horse in a real parade didn’t seem hard at all. He still felt a little twinge when he thought about reading the speech, but he shrugged it off. He guessed he would be as brave as he needed to be.
And it was fun to hear all the comments as he passed.
“Yes, sir, I’m telling the truth!” said a large man with a red face. “I swear, that dog was bouncing! I don’t mean jumping, I mean bouncing higher than your head!”
Abner chuckled as they turned onto Main Street. The man was going to have a hard time getting anyone to believe that story.
“Abber! Abber!” someone shouted, and Abner looked down to see Mrs. Delgado and Tomas. The little boy was waving as hard as he could wave. “Horsie! Horsie, Abber!”
Abner waved back. “Hey, Tomas!”
Mrs. Delgado called, “My hero!”
Abner swayed gently with each stride of the horse. The sky was blue, somewhere a band started to play, and all at once Abner was happy. He might not be as brave as General Abner Willow, but he was brave enough. And even though grasshopper magic, just like every other kind of magic on Hollowstone Hill, had led to trouble, still it had been amazing. He looked up at the rooftops and wished for a moment that he could bound over them again.
But riding a horse was exciting, too. He saw his parents in the crowd, and he waved. Beside them were Tate and Derek and Celia, and right next to them were the boys from yesterday—the ones who had laughed as he pushed the stroller down the street.
They weren’t laughing now. They were eyeing his bloody bandage with respect.
Abner gave the salute he had practiced that morning in the mirror. And his brother and sisters, and the grinning boys from yesterday, saluted right back.
Lynne Jonell is the author of the popular Emmy and the Incredible Shrinking Rat, a Booklist Editors’ Choice and one of School Library Journal’s Best Books of the Year, as well as the first two books about the Willow family, Hamster Magic and Lawn Mower Magic. She has also written three other novels and seven picture books. Lynne has never eaten a grasshopper, but that’s only because she hasn’t found a magic one.