Children of the Wolf
/>Chapter 15
I skidded around the corner.
The hallway was dark but faint light filtered in behind me.
I could see Miss Possum struggling with something big. It was hard to see in the shadows, but I was pretty sure it had long arms and a shaggy head filled with sharp teeth. Miss Possum never stood a chance.
Her screams had stopped. All that came from her were little grunts and gasps.
She must be badly hurt already!
Snarling, I leaped onto the back of the werewolf.
OOF!
Something hard and pointed hit me in the stomach. The thing pulled away from me. Off balance, I went crashing to the floor.
Heavy objects fell all around me. I scrambled clear, trying to find the monster.
“Stop, Gruff, stop!” Miss Possum pulled on my arm. “You’re knocking these boxes everywhere. I only hope there’s nothing breakable in them.”
Boxes? I put my hand out and felt the corner of one. So that’s what hit me in the stomach. I must have jumped right on it, fooled by the shadows.
“You not hurt?” I asked Miss Possum.
She laughed nervously. “A mouse ran over my foot and I screamed,” she said. “When I jumped away, I hit this stack of boxes. I was trying to keep it from falling over.”
I was too relieved to feel foolish. Now maybe Miss Possum would agree to get out of here. “Cat not starve,” I said, grinning. “Eat mouse.”
“Right,” she said, with a nervous giggle. “Let’s just get these boxes straightened up and get out of here. I’ll tell Mr. Clawson about the cat and explain that I sent you home.
Outside the air was fresh and clean and sunlight sparkled in the trees. It felt so good I was ready to forget every single bad thing that had happened today.
Then Miss Possum said something that stopped me in my tracks.
My stomach churned with dread as again my world came crashing down around me.
Chapter 16
“We need to talk about your schooling, Gruff,” said nice Miss Possum with a sad little frown. “It’s not your fault you’ve never been to school, but I know you can’t do the sixth-grade work.”
I opened my mouth and shut it again. I was gasping like a fish.
Paul had told me that kids who couldn’t read went to first grade. I’d seen the first graders. They were little kids. None of them stood any higher than my waist. If I had to go to first grade I couldn’t bear it. How could I hold my head up around the kids my own age?
Miss Possum cocked her head and looked at me worriedly. “Well, never mind,” she said, patting my shoulder. “I think the stress of your first day is enough for now. We’ll wait and see how you’re doing next week.”
My heart leaped. Could I learn to read and write and talk in a week? I had to or else Miss Possum would send me to first grade.
I shuddered to think what that bully Rick would say if I was a first grader. And all the sixth graders would laugh like crazy.
I trudged toward the Parkers’ house, head down.
“Hey, Gruff. Hey!” I looked up to see Paul running toward me across a field. He had a big glove on his hand. A bunch of other kids stood around the field, looking at a kid with a wooden club on his shoulder.
“Come play baseball with us,” said Paul. “It’ll be a good way to meet everybody.”
Just then one of the kids threw something white at the boy with the club. He swung the club and WHACK! the white thing sailed high into the air.
Wow! My spirits seemed to fly up with it. I wondered if I could do that. It sure would be fun to try. I started running across the field with Paul and then I remembered that I had something more important to do.
“No,” I said, thinking of Miss Possum. “I learn read.”
Paul didn’t understand. “School’s over,” he said. “Forget about it.”
I was tempted. But I pictured myself standing in line with all the little first graders and Rick and all of Paul’s friends jeering at me. I left Paul and ran the rest of the way to his family’s house.
My head was spinning with all the alphabet sounds Kim was teaching me.
“Why have c?” I asked her. “Already have k sound and s sound. Not need c.”
Kim sighed and scratched her head. “For one thing, you need it for words like ‘church.’” She wrote down the word.
“What is church?” I asked.
Kim’s shoulders slumped. “This teaching stuff is much harder than I expected,” she said. “Anyway we’re supposed to be doing letter sounds. We’ll discuss church later. Now try and sound out this word.”
But before she could write it, a voice called from downstairs. “Dinner,” Mrs. Parker announced. “Kim, Paul, Gruff!”
My stomach growled. All this brain work had made me hungry. And the smells from the kitchen were wonderful. I jumped up instantly and bounded downstairs.
But where was everybody? I was the only one at the table.
Mrs. Parker came out of the kitchen carrying a steaming bowl. She looked surprised to see me. “Sit down, Gruff,” she said, smiling. “It’s nice to see one person in this house comes when I call. This family is very slow getting to the dinner table. Anyone would think they didn’t like my cooking.”
“Not like cooking!” I was shocked. “Smell is delicious.”
Mrs. Parker beamed at me. “Thank you, Gruff.”
She set the bowl down and turned away to go back into the kitchen. “I’ll be right back. And everyone else should be down in a minute.”
Meat smells rose into the air. My stomach growled again. I was starved. I knew I was expected to wait until the whole family sat down but it was very hard.
Finally Mr. Parker arrived and Mrs. Parker came back from the kitchen with a loaf of bread.
“What’s for dinner, Carol?” asked Mr. Parker, sitting in his chair at the end of the table.
“Beef stew,” said Mrs. Parker, sitting down at the other end.
She