about it? Did they think that I had no feelings? That they could just pick me up like some dumbstuffed animal and set me down any old place, and I’d be fine?
As the car neared the end of my street, I started fidgeting.
“I’m bored and my leg’s hot,” I whined. “Also, I think I might be getting carsick.”
At the wheel, I saw my father shaking his head in disgust. “Come on, Howard. Not today, okay? Why don’t you take some time off from complaining and just relax?”
Relax?
I thought to myself.
Are you kidding? Complaining is my job now. It’s what I
do.
Suddenly my mother reached into a bag in the front seat and tossed me back an orange. She does this sort of thing a lot when we’re traveling. Since I’ve never been what you’d call a good little traveler, my mother buys a bunch of stuff to keep me busy so I won’t gripe. When you think about it, it’s kind of insulting—like feeding a gorilla a bunch of bananas so he won’t bother you.
I was particularly annoyed at my mother lately—especially after what I heard her say to Aunt Emily on the phone. It happened a couple of days before we moved. I was sitting on the back stairs, so she didn’t know I was around.
“Yeah, he’s not too happy about it right now,Em,” she had said. “But you know how kids are. Once you get them there, they always seem to bounce right back.”
Bounce right back! I’m not kidding. She really said that! She made me sound like a Nerf ball. Like she had a foam rubber son with no emotions at all!
The more I thought about it, the more annoyed I got. I tried to take my mind off things by looking out the window, but my father’s voice distracted me.
“Hmm,” he said, pondering out loud. “I wonder if the van will get to Massachusetts before we do.”
The moving van! Why did he have to bring up that stupid moving van? I hated that van and all the stupid moving men that came with it! The day they packed our stuff had been the worst day of my life.
My parents were upstairs when the knock came at the door. “Answer that, would you, Howard?” called my father. “We’re busy up here.”
“I can’t!” I called back. “I’m in my pajamas!”
My father was standing at the top of the stairs with his hands full. “No one cares what you’re wearing, Howard. Just let the men inside.”
“
I
care what I’m wearing! Have you seen thesethings? Would someone please tell Nana that I’m too old for Porky Pig pajamas?”
“Howard!”
My father was using his killing voice. You can push him so far, but when he uses his killing voice, it’s best to do what he says. I went to the door.
“Hi, sonny.”
There were three of them, all lined up in their brown moving-men suits. They came inside. One of them looked at my pajamas and whistled. “Porky Pig, eh?” he asked.
I covered Porky with my hands and ran up to my room. Then I locked the door so no one could come in. Later, when the movers were ready to pack my stuff, my father got a key and opened it.
It still makes me sick when I think about it. The moving man stomped right in and started dumping all my stuff into big boxes. He just heaped it together like it was garbage or something. When the marbles fell out of my Chinese checkers, he dumped them in the box without even putting them back in the game first. It really made me furious. I don’t even
like
Chinese checkers, but a guy still likes to keep his marbles together.…
I concentrated harder on looking out the car window. As luck would have it, we were just passingThornsberry’s house. Seeing it gave me this real empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. Barry Thornsberry is one of my best friends. Saying good-bye to him and to my other best friend, Roger Grimsley, had been the hardest thing I’d ever had to do in my whole life. The three of us practically grew up together. I know this sounds mean, but I felt closer to Thornsberry and Roger than I did to my very own baby brother. I mean, we’ve even known
As the car neared the end of my street, I started fidgeting.
“I’m bored and my leg’s hot,” I whined. “Also, I think I might be getting carsick.”
At the wheel, I saw my father shaking his head in disgust. “Come on, Howard. Not today, okay? Why don’t you take some time off from complaining and just relax?”
Relax?
I thought to myself.
Are you kidding? Complaining is my job now. It’s what I
do.
Suddenly my mother reached into a bag in the front seat and tossed me back an orange. She does this sort of thing a lot when we’re traveling. Since I’ve never been what you’d call a good little traveler, my mother buys a bunch of stuff to keep me busy so I won’t gripe. When you think about it, it’s kind of insulting—like feeding a gorilla a bunch of bananas so he won’t bother you.
I was particularly annoyed at my mother lately—especially after what I heard her say to Aunt Emily on the phone. It happened a couple of days before we moved. I was sitting on the back stairs, so she didn’t know I was around.
“Yeah, he’s not too happy about it right now,Em,” she had said. “But you know how kids are. Once you get them there, they always seem to bounce right back.”
Bounce right back! I’m not kidding. She really said that! She made me sound like a Nerf ball. Like she had a foam rubber son with no emotions at all!
The more I thought about it, the more annoyed I got. I tried to take my mind off things by looking out the window, but my father’s voice distracted me.
“Hmm,” he said, pondering out loud. “I wonder if the van will get to Massachusetts before we do.”
The moving van! Why did he have to bring up that stupid moving van? I hated that van and all the stupid moving men that came with it! The day they packed our stuff had been the worst day of my life.
My parents were upstairs when the knock came at the door. “Answer that, would you, Howard?” called my father. “We’re busy up here.”
“I can’t!” I called back. “I’m in my pajamas!”
My father was standing at the top of the stairs with his hands full. “No one cares what you’re wearing, Howard. Just let the men inside.”
“
I
care what I’m wearing! Have you seen thesethings? Would someone please tell Nana that I’m too old for Porky Pig pajamas?”
“Howard!”
My father was using his killing voice. You can push him so far, but when he uses his killing voice, it’s best to do what he says. I went to the door.
“Hi, sonny.”
There were three of them, all lined up in their brown moving-men suits. They came inside. One of them looked at my pajamas and whistled. “Porky Pig, eh?” he asked.
I covered Porky with my hands and ran up to my room. Then I locked the door so no one could come in. Later, when the movers were ready to pack my stuff, my father got a key and opened it.
It still makes me sick when I think about it. The moving man stomped right in and started dumping all my stuff into big boxes. He just heaped it together like it was garbage or something. When the marbles fell out of my Chinese checkers, he dumped them in the box without even putting them back in the game first. It really made me furious. I don’t even
like
Chinese checkers, but a guy still likes to keep his marbles together.…
I concentrated harder on looking out the car window. As luck would have it, we were just passingThornsberry’s house. Seeing it gave me this real empty feeling in the pit of my stomach. Barry Thornsberry is one of my best friends. Saying good-bye to him and to my other best friend, Roger Grimsley, had been the hardest thing I’d ever had to do in my whole life. The three of us practically grew up together. I know this sounds mean, but I felt closer to Thornsberry and Roger than I did to my very own baby brother. I mean, we’ve even known
Similar Books
