grew quiet.
“I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. But you can’t just give the at.óow to some bum. Garvey trusted me, and that’s the same reason I gave it to you.”
Peter nodded. “The at.óow
is
special to me, and maybe I trust the old man.”
“We don’t even know him.”
“Because we haven’t
tried
to know him,” Peter said. “Besides, how well did Garvey know you? How well do you really know me?”
Cole didn’t like that they were arguing. “Maybe we could just walk down to the Salvation Army and see if they have any blankets.”
“Whatever,” Peter mumbled.
“Do you need to let your parents know?”
“Let them look for me,” Peter said, starting down the street toward the Salvation Army store a mile away.
“I’m not mad,” Cole said.
“Neither am I,” Peter said, hobbling faster.
It took almost a half hour to reach the big white building. Neither of them spoke until they pushed through the front doors. A tired-looking checkout lady directed them behind the women’s dresses to a big shelf filled with blankets.
“There, now you can have your choice,” Cole said to Peter. “I’ll split the cost of buying one and we’ll give it to the old bum as a gift from both of us.”
Silently Peter examined each blanket on the shelf. When he finished looking at the last one, Cole asked, “So what do you think?”
“I don’t like any of them,” Peter said.
“There’s about a half million of them—how can you not like any of them? We’re looking for something to keep a homeless bum warm, not something to win a contest.”
“I said I didn’t like them,” Peter snapped, heading toward the front entrance.
Cole knew not to argue the point anymore.
“Let’s go past the abandoned building,” Peter said.
“Why?”
“I want to meet the old guy.”
“No way,” Cole said. “He’s probably a drug addict or an ex-convict.”
“Like you,” Peter shot back.
Cole gave up. “Do whatever you want with the at.óow. It’s yours.”
“I know that,” Peter said.
They walked in silence until Peter stopped suddenly and pointed. Ahead of them was the homeless man struggling to push his grocery cart down the sidewalk. He had a tree stump balanced awkwardly across the top of the basket. The sides of the cart bowed under the weight. Peter angled across the street, directly toward the homeless man.
Cole followed reluctantly.
The grizzled old man didn’t notice them at first as he grunted and strained to keep the cart moving.
“What’s he doing?” Cole whispered, approaching to within twenty feet.
“Go ask him.”
“This was your idea,” Cole said.
Peter hesitated, slowing almost to a halt.
Suddenly the homeless bum stopped and turned to stare at them. Cole and Peter froze in their tracks. Cole was about to run when Peter asked, “Do you n-n-need help pushing that thing?”
The man squinted at them. His stringy combed hair hung to his shoulders. Only a knotted rope around his waist kept his pants from falling down. Slowly his gaze softened as he recognized them. Then he smiled and shook his head before turning back to his cart. Not pressing their luck, Cole and Peter headed for home.
Cole felt bad. This was the first time since being on the island that he and Peter had really argued. Before splitting up, he said, “Peter, I’m sorry for things I said today. I just thought it was kind of dumb to give the at.óow to a homeless guy.”
“Isn’t it kind of d-d-dumb trying to make friends with Keith and changing the mascot name to Spirit Bear?”
Cole grinned. “Not any dumber than thinking the whole school should meet in a Circle.”
Chapter 12
A LL WEEKEND COLE wondered if the Circle would change things.
On Monday morning, an uneasy calm hung in the air as teachers and police patrolled the halls. Metal detectors still guarded each entrance. A list of eighteen suggestions made during the Circle was handed out during first period.
Cole looked down the list and
“I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. But you can’t just give the at.óow to some bum. Garvey trusted me, and that’s the same reason I gave it to you.”
Peter nodded. “The at.óow
is
special to me, and maybe I trust the old man.”
“We don’t even know him.”
“Because we haven’t
tried
to know him,” Peter said. “Besides, how well did Garvey know you? How well do you really know me?”
Cole didn’t like that they were arguing. “Maybe we could just walk down to the Salvation Army and see if they have any blankets.”
“Whatever,” Peter mumbled.
“Do you need to let your parents know?”
“Let them look for me,” Peter said, starting down the street toward the Salvation Army store a mile away.
“I’m not mad,” Cole said.
“Neither am I,” Peter said, hobbling faster.
It took almost a half hour to reach the big white building. Neither of them spoke until they pushed through the front doors. A tired-looking checkout lady directed them behind the women’s dresses to a big shelf filled with blankets.
“There, now you can have your choice,” Cole said to Peter. “I’ll split the cost of buying one and we’ll give it to the old bum as a gift from both of us.”
Silently Peter examined each blanket on the shelf. When he finished looking at the last one, Cole asked, “So what do you think?”
“I don’t like any of them,” Peter said.
“There’s about a half million of them—how can you not like any of them? We’re looking for something to keep a homeless bum warm, not something to win a contest.”
“I said I didn’t like them,” Peter snapped, heading toward the front entrance.
Cole knew not to argue the point anymore.
“Let’s go past the abandoned building,” Peter said.
“Why?”
“I want to meet the old guy.”
“No way,” Cole said. “He’s probably a drug addict or an ex-convict.”
“Like you,” Peter shot back.
Cole gave up. “Do whatever you want with the at.óow. It’s yours.”
“I know that,” Peter said.
They walked in silence until Peter stopped suddenly and pointed. Ahead of them was the homeless man struggling to push his grocery cart down the sidewalk. He had a tree stump balanced awkwardly across the top of the basket. The sides of the cart bowed under the weight. Peter angled across the street, directly toward the homeless man.
Cole followed reluctantly.
The grizzled old man didn’t notice them at first as he grunted and strained to keep the cart moving.
“What’s he doing?” Cole whispered, approaching to within twenty feet.
“Go ask him.”
“This was your idea,” Cole said.
Peter hesitated, slowing almost to a halt.
Suddenly the homeless bum stopped and turned to stare at them. Cole and Peter froze in their tracks. Cole was about to run when Peter asked, “Do you n-n-need help pushing that thing?”
The man squinted at them. His stringy combed hair hung to his shoulders. Only a knotted rope around his waist kept his pants from falling down. Slowly his gaze softened as he recognized them. Then he smiled and shook his head before turning back to his cart. Not pressing their luck, Cole and Peter headed for home.
Cole felt bad. This was the first time since being on the island that he and Peter had really argued. Before splitting up, he said, “Peter, I’m sorry for things I said today. I just thought it was kind of dumb to give the at.óow to a homeless guy.”
“Isn’t it kind of d-d-dumb trying to make friends with Keith and changing the mascot name to Spirit Bear?”
Cole grinned. “Not any dumber than thinking the whole school should meet in a Circle.”
Chapter 12
A LL WEEKEND COLE wondered if the Circle would change things.
On Monday morning, an uneasy calm hung in the air as teachers and police patrolled the halls. Metal detectors still guarded each entrance. A list of eighteen suggestions made during the Circle was handed out during first period.
Cole looked down the list and
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