0764214101 by Tracie Peterson

so bad.
    A little nose poked out of the red pouch. The boy petted it and tucked it back in.
    Harry moved forward. He really wanted to see the fluffy thing. “Can I see it? I saw you chasing it earlier.”
    The boy nodded.
    Miss Porter in her yellow dress laughed. “Yes, Mr. Whiskers escaped, and we had to chase him. He’s too little, and we didn’t want him to get hurt. He’s just a baby.”
    The boy with the red pouch held out the animal in his little hands.
    Harry gasped, “It’s a bunny rabbit! I love bunny rabbits!” He jumped up and down. “They hop all over the place and like carrots. And they’re fast, fast, fast.” He smiled at Miss Porter. She smiled back and watched him with a strange look on her face. Harry hoped that didn’t mean she wouldn’t like him. A lot of times people had looked at him like that and then got mean.
    Her strange look went away. “Yes, they are.” Miss Porter’s yellow skirt fluttered in the breeze like butterfly wings. Her laughter made his heart happy.
    Harry reached out to touch the baby bunny. Its little nose tickled his hand. He leaned his head to the side and held his hands next to the boy’s. “You have little hands. Look how big mine are.”
    The boy nodded.
    “It’s okay. You can talk to me. I’m nice. My name is Harry.” He waved at the boy again. Just to show how nice he was. And he smiled. Real big.
    Miss Porter in the yellow dress touched his arm. “This is Jimmy. He doesn’t talk right now.”
    “Oh.” Harry scratched his head. “Why don’t he talk?”
    “I don’t know, Harry. But it’s all right that he doesn’t talk right now. Maybe one day we’ll be able to help him talk again. Do you understand?”
    Harry nodded. “Uh-huh.” He turned to the little boy Jimmy. “I’ll still be your friend whether you talk or don’t.”
    Jimmy smiled at him.
    “Are you all alone, Harry?” Miss Porter looked behind him.
    “Yep.” He swallowed. “I mean, yes, ma’am. My ma always told me I better have good manners. And I try, I really do, butsometimes I forget. Sometimes I use the word ain’t , too, and Ma never liked it.”
    “Where’s your ma now?” She looked over his shoulder again. He looked back to the hill he’d come down earlier.
    “She died. So she’s in heaven. With God. And Jesus, too. And my grandma. And—”
    “I’m so sorry, Harry.”
    “It’s okay. She died a long time ago. I can’t really remember her face anymore. But I remember what she taught me, and I remember her voice. She sang to me, too. Only she didn’t tell me I’d have to live with my uncle. I didn’t like that.”
    “So is your uncle around?” She looked happy to hear him talk. No one really listened to him anymore.
    He shook his head really hard. “No, no, no. I don’t live with him no more. He’s mean, mean, mean.” Brother warned him to never mention any names, or the fact that Pa had once owned this land. And Harry didn’t mind. He never wanted to say Uncle John out loud ever again. He couldn’t remember why he wasn’t supposed to, but there were lots of things he forgot lately. His cousins had hurt his head a lot. Since then, things were sometimes fuzzy.
    “I’m sorry.” Miss Porter in the yellow dress looked sad, but then she smiled again. “Why don’t we talk about happier things? We could play a game.” She turned to the little boy who didn’t talk. “Jimmy, would you like to play a game?”
    His little head bobbed and he smiled.
    Harry liked these people. They were nice.
    “All right, then”—Miss Porter put a finger to her lips—“what should we play?”
    Harry’s stomach growled a lot louder than before. He felt heat race up his neck, and he grabbed his belly.
    Miss Porter smiled at him. “Are you hungry, Harry? We havethis great big picnic and we haven’t finished yet. We have plenty to share.”
    “I don’t want to miss the game. I like games.” He was torn between hunger and his new friends. He hadn’t played a game in