Share Your Chapter One discussion
This topic is about
The Blue Bicycle
Chapter One Excerpts
>
A Boy's Chapter One
date
newest »
newest »
Mod
Thanks so much, Sandra! How do I find your blog?
Thanks Sandra. I gave the post and blog a shout out.
Mod
I thoroughly enjoyed this excerpt...makes me want to read it all!
Mod
“Artie!”
Uh oh. Mrs. Winslow. Now I gotta stop, see what she wants. She’s the principal, but two years ago she was my first grade teacher. That was when Mama cried all the time, just ‘fore Daddy moved out.
“Are you riding or walking today, Artie?”
She looks me over.
“I rode my bike.”
“What’s that on your face?”
I don’t say ‘cause I don’t want her to know Brent gave me some chocolate, and I ate it in class.
”Wait right here,” she tells me. She goes to her office. She’s got a round mirror, the same size as my face. She smiles when she stoops and says, “Tell me what’s wrong with this picture, young man.”
Well, first off, my hair is all messed up. Mama calls me a sandy-haired mop-top, but I can’t make it stay in place, no matter what. So now I comb it a little with my fingers and push it down in the back where it stands up. My cheeks are a little bit red, but that wouldn’t show if I didn’t have this white skin, almost like Daddy’s. My nose is dripping, but I think it’s ‘cause it’s too thin to store up much snot. I sniff, real hard. Then I laugh.
I never noticed my ears sticking out like that. And the chocolate gunk around my mouth makes me look weird, like the clown I saw at the circus with Papa Merle last year—the one who snuck up and scared me. I start licking at the chocolate. Mrs. Winslow pushes my hand away, fishes in her pocket for a Kleenex, and wipes off what’s left.
She’s looking at something outside, so I twist around to see. Huh. Nothing but the same old Weaverville houses. And a bunch of tree branches swooshing around like they’re dancing. The sky’s real blue with a little cloud scooting along. Mama says that’s the way it always is here in the mountains in April. ‘Cept when it rains.
Mrs. Winslow kind of sits on her heels and makes a line with her mouth, the way Mama does when she’s looking at me real hard. After that, she pulls my jeans up and buttons my coat all the way. I start squirming ‘cause I gotta go. I can’t keep my daddy waiting.
“All right, Artie,” she says. “But no more running.”
I’m out the door in a blue streak. That’s one of Mama’s sayings, and it’s true, I run pretty fast. There’s my bike, the cool one with the high handlebars. Mama says it was a StingRay Krate when she got it, before Papa Merle painted it blue. You can still see where the name used to be.
Now I can’t get the key to go in the lock, and I think a bad word I got from Daddy. I don’t say it, though, and finally the lock comes off. So I jump on and push hard on the wood blocks Papa Merle fixed on the pedals. It’s hard to get started. I almost fall down, I’m wobbling so much. A lady in a van sees me and waves for me to go first. The stickshift won’t work, so I push really hard on the pedals. Uhff, it still won’t go. The lady smiles and waves at me and goes on by.
Boy, it’s Friday, and Daddy’s coming! He said he’d take me to the park at Lake Louise. We’re gonna play catch. He played in Little League when he was little like me, but he got in some trouble. After that, he quit.
I hit the stickshift real hard, and this time the chain goes clackety-clack. The bike jerks, and all of a sudden it’s easy to pedal. The wind’s whistling down South Main Street. It makes my eyes water. Now it’s in my ears, telling me, wheee, hurry up, Artie!
I pedal really hard. Pretty soon, I’m almost at the top, where you can see between the houses to the Balcrank plant. The mountains look like a big pile of dirty clothes, except they’re purple.
Uh oh. I didn’t pick up my stuff this morning. Gotta do that ‘fore Daddy comes. It’s gonna be cold over at Lake Louise when we play catch. That’s all right, though. I’ll wear some mittens with my ball glove.
Daddy used to be in the carnival before he married Mama. That was after the bad thing happened in his head and he quit school. In the carnival he threw knives. Mama—her name’s Marie—she used to say she was glad she didn’t know him then. He’d hear that and say all the other carnies loved him, and she woulda too. Then he’d laugh real loud and hug her.
A coupla weeks ago, I wanted him to teach me to throw knives like that. So the next day he showed up making funny faces, and I think he was drinking some. He borrowed my bicycle pump to blow up this big doll that looked like a lady with a little place between her legs.
I pointed to it. “What’s that for, Daddy?”
He laughed real soft. “Walk up to it an say hello,” he said. “Say it real loud.”
It was dumb, but I did it.
“Now,” he said, “put your ear up to it and tell me what you hear.”
I didn’t hear nothing. I told him so.
“Nothing?”
“Nossir.”
“You don’t hear no voice coming back? Telling you what to do?” Then he slapped one of his skinny legs and laughed so hard he doubled over.
That was dumb, too.
Then he stopped laughing and told me, “All right, boy, stand it up next to that big oak.” While I did that, he went back to his truck and pulled out this big box and set it on the ground. It had all these big, shiny knives inside. He picked out four he said were his favorites. He spread ‘em around in one hand, and pulled one out by the shiny blade part. Then he winked and said, “Watch this.”
It went whistling through the air. “Phwhht.” It stuck in the tree, right beside the lady doll’s head. That was so cool! He did it three more times, and every time the points went thunnng! when they stuck in the tree. It was only a play-lady, but you could tell if it was a real one she wouldn’t be worried.
“Let me, Daddy, let me!” I hollered.
Right then, Mama came to the door and walked across the yard to see what I was doing. She started frowning when she saw the doll.
“Casey,” she yelled, “are you out of your mind? What if some of the neighbors see that thing?” She was shaking her finger real hard, and that always means she’s really, really mad. “Artie,” she said, “get away from it.”
“Daddy wanted me to say hello to it, Mama, right there.” I pointed at the little pocket.
Daddy was laughing to himself with his head down and kinda pawing the ground with one foot.
“Casey Royal!”
I thought she was going to make her throat sore, she screamed so hard. Then she pulled out one of the knives and stabbed the doll.
Daddy laughed some more. He made his arms and legs move like the doll did when the air went out. So Mama pulled another knife out and flung it real hard, and it stuck in the ground by his foot. That made him laugh even harder, so she stomped back in the house and slammed the door.
Daddy quit laughing then, but it took a minute. He worked his mouth back and forth. Then he spit some brown gunk. Snuff, I think. “She don’t look like her old self. She been sick again?”
“Yessir,” I told him. “She’s got the cramps. She spends a lotta time in bed.”
“Huh. Well, she looks like she’s lost some weight too.”
He’s so skinny himself, and white looking—you can see blue stuff under his skin. And he’s tall, not like Mama. She’s short and has dark skin. She’s pretty, too. But she frowns a lot when he comes around now. She told me he’s got lots of problems, and one is he’s always been a lady’s man. She said they like him, even with that long face and big eyes that look like they’re too close together. I guess liking ladies back is okay, though. Mama’s a lady, the best one I know.