by David Blaze
MY FOX ATE MY HOMEWORK
DAVID BLAZE
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by David Blaze, Children’s Author
All Rights Reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the author is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
FRIDAY MORNING
My teeth clicked and clacked when I stepped into my new school. Goose bumps popped up all over my arms like hot air balloons. I wasn’t nervous — just cold. I knew I’d never wear shorts and a t-shirt there again.
Okay — I was a little nervous.
“Come on in,” the sixth grade English teacher said when I stepped into her classroom. She was standing in front of a chalkboard with the name Miss Cox written across the top of it. She was older than any of the teachers I had in the city, and she had a high-pitched twang in her voice that made me shudder. “Don’t be shy.” She waved for me to come to her desk.
Twenty or thirty kids stared at me from their desks. My hands felt sweaty. “Can you dance?” one of the girls shouted at me. I felt ashamed to shake my head no. I did the chicken dance once at a birthday party. I knew that didn’t count.
“Class,” the teacher said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, “I’d like to introduce you to Jonah Johnson.”
“Joe,” I said right away. I didn’t like being called Jonah. I didn’t expect anyone to understand, but I didn’t want to feel like a little kid.
Miss Cox chuckled. “Of course, Joe. Whatever you prefer.” She motioned toward the class. “Go ahead and find a seat. We only have a few minutes left.”
Some kid in a tank top jumped out of his seat and shouted, “He has to sing the song!”
I had no idea what he was talking about. My mom had begged me not to sing in public after she heard me singing in the shower one day.
Miss Cox shook her head and told the other kid to sit down. “This is Joe’s first day, and he doesn’t know the rules yet. I think we can give him a pass this one time.” She winked at me. “Anyone who’s late has to sing a song in front of the class. We’ll teach it to you later, Joe. Besides, I’m sure you have a good reason for being late on your first day.”
I had a really good reason. It was Friday and I didn’t want to be there at all! Why couldn’t my mom let me start this school on a Monday like everyone else? She had to pry me out of my bedroom kicking and screaming. She even threatened to dress me like the little girl she always wanted.
I walked through the rows of desks to the back of the room. I didn’t want to sit near the front because that’s where you get asked all the questions.
“Not here,” some big kid with wavy blond hair growled at me before I could sit at the only open seat. He was so big he looked like he was supposed to be in the ninth grade. He stared at the desk when he spoke. “That seat is reserved.”
The desk had dust on it, so I knew no one had sat there in a long time. “I’ll find another seat next week. Let me sit here for now.”
“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear, Jonah,” he hissed. “This seat is reserved, Jonah.”
My face felt hot when he called me that name twice. “It’s Joe,” I reminded him. “Call me Joe.”
He stood straight up, kicked his chair back, and waved a fist at me. I gulped. He was the tallest sixth grader I’d ever seen. He was wearing a gray t-shirt and gray shorts.
Miss Cox appeared by my side out of nowhere. “Do we have a problem here, Shane?”
The kid snickered, shook his head, and sat back down.
Miss Cox took a deep breath and motioned for me to follow her. She led me right back to the front row of desks and an open seat. I had been there for less than five minutes, and I was already embarrassed out of my mind. It was going to be a long day.
“Don’t forget about the paper due on Monday morning,” Miss Cox said to the room. “I want to see three paragraphs about your best friend. I’ll be grading for grammar, punctuation, and speech.”
I raised my hand. “Speech?”
Miss Cox smiled. “Yes, Joe. In this class we work on presentation skills. Anything you write, you say in front of the class.” She lowered her voice. “I know it’s short notice, but is this something you can do by Monday? I heard you’re a writer.”
I didn’t have any problem with writing three paragraphs. I was a writer for my other school’s newsletter. But making a speech in front of the class? I gulped. I’d never done that before. I looked up at Miss Cox and said the only thing I could say to save myself from more embarrassment. “Sure, no problem.”
The class bell rang, and everyone jumped out of their seats. There was so much noise and talking in the room I couldn’t concentrate on how scared I was about Monday morning. I knew I shouldn’t have started this school on a Friday. I mean, who starts school on a Friday?
“Are you okay?” the girl next to me asked. She had two ponytails and big dimples.
I stood up and slung my backpack over my shoulder. “I don’t know yet.”
She chuckled and stood next to me with a huge smile. “My name’s Melissa.”
I pulled my new class schedule out of my backpack. “Do you know where Room 104 is?”
She snatched the paper out of my hand and headed toward the door. “Yeah. That’s my next class too. Follow me.”
At least there was one friendly person at the school. She had a bit of a twang in her voice, but not as bad as Miss Cox. I’d have to get used to it in the country.
“Where are you from?” Melissa asked when we walked into the hall.
“Orlando,” I said proudly. She had to be impressed with a big city boy like me coming to this small country town in Alabama. She smiled and kept walking.
I felt obligated to ask her some questions back. I wasn't a big talker, but I knew most kids liked talking about themselves. Melissa was the only person willing to be my friend so far. I couldn’t risk losing that. “Where are you from?”
She stopped in front of Room 104, looked directly into my eyes, and said, “I came from my mama.” She burst out laughing.
She didn’t stop laughing, and it was so contagious I couldn’t help but laugh with her.
The laughing stopped when Shane appeared by my side. I’m not short, but he was at least four inches taller than me. He was trouble — I couldn’t show him any fear.
“We need to talk,” Shane blurted out. He didn’t look angry like before. I didn’t know how much I could trust him, and I didn’t know how much time there was until the next class started. “It’ll only take a minute,” he pleaded.
I glanced at Melissa. She shrugged her shoulders and walked into the classroom. “I’ll save you a seat,” she promised.
I looked back up at Shane. “It’s fun to mess with the new kid. I don’t want any trouble.”
Shane frowned like he was hurt. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he confessed.
I wasn’t sure how to respond. All I could say was, “Oh. Okay.”
He smiled for the first time and punched my shoulder playfully. “So you’re a writer?”
This was going a lot better than I expected. It wouldn’t be hard making friends after all. “I dabble here and there,” I proclaimed.
“I won an award at my other school.”
Shane’s eyes got big. “That’s awesome!” he shouted.
Another kid wearing a tank top joined us. His hair was cut like a sailor’s. It took me a second to realize he was the kid from Miss Cox’s class who had tried to make me sing a song.
“Hey, Joe,” Shane said to me. “This is my best friend, Sam.” They pounded fists. “Isn’t it funny that Miss Cox wants us to write a paper about our best friends?”
My stomach churned. I had a bad feeling this wasn’t going so well after all.
“Sam and I grew up together,” Shane continued. “We like to go fishing and hunting.”
I tried to step backwards toward the classroom. I already knew what he was going to ask me.
“Say,” Shane said to me, “you’re a writer and we’re friends now, right?” He followed every step I took. I was pretty sure we weren’t friends.
He reached out and grabbed my shirt collar with one hand. “Where are you going?” He tightened his grip. “I’m gonna need you to write my paper for me, Jonah.”
I love to write, but not under threats and not for someone else. “My name is Joe.”
Shane and Sam both snickered as he released my shirt and straightened it out. “This is going to be a long year for you if you don’t write it. And you’ll be very, very sorry.” He shoved me into the room. I stumbled and fell flat on my back. Shane towered over me, smirked, and said, “Make the right decision.”
The two bullies high fived each other and disappeared down the hall. I stared up at the ceiling and wished I was invisible.
“Are you okay?” Melissa asked after I got up and sat next to her. “Shane is a big bully. If you give him what he wants then he’ll never leave you alone.”
She was right. But to be honest — I was scared to death of the big kid! I didn’t know yet my whole world would be turned upside down after school that day, but I knew right then and there what choice I would make about writing Shane’s paper.
FRIDAY AFTERNOON
I went straight to my room when I got home and lay on the bed. It was so lumpy that my back had hurt all morning after tossing and turning in it all night. It’s weird to call it my room and my bed when just yesterday I was living somewhere else.
My mom knocked on my door. “Is it safe to come in here?”
This was my great-grandma’s house, and it had been built in 1930. The floors creaked and the walls smelled like smoke. I wasn't sure any room in this house was safe. “It’s open,” I told her.
She sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s hard leaving everything behind. But I have to do what’s best for us.” She glanced around the room. “Right now this is it.”
I sat up and stared at the dirty white wall in front of me. “I know.” She had lost her job, and we had nowhere else to go. Great-grandma had left this place to my mom in her will. “Thank you, Mom.” She was a warrior and she’d never give up.
She leaned against my shoulder. “Now you’re talking to me?” We both laughed. “How was your first day of school, Mister?”
All I could think about was Shane’s order to write his paper. It made me feel sick. How could I write three paragraphs for him anyways? He had only told me that he and the other guy liked to hunt and fish. I definitely did not want to write it. On the other hand, I definitely did not want to get beat up.
“It was okay,” I told my mom. “I get to do some writing — like I did for the other school.” I thought about telling her the truth, but she already had too many things to worry about.
She hugged my shoulders. “That’s great, Jonah! You’re a wonderful writer.” She was the only one allowed to call me Jonah.
We both jumped when a knock at the front door echoed through the walls. My mom stood up and asked me, “Who could that be?”
“Maybe it’s the pizza delivery man,” I said with high hopes.
She shook her head and walked out of the room. I followed her to make sure everything was okay. My mom had spent a lot of summers in this town many years ago, but she didn’t know anyone there now — except for my uncle.
She opened the door. “Hello,” said a big, chubby man in a striped suit. He smiled wide and waved a smelly cigar. “Miss Johnson?”
“Yes?” she replied. “Can I help you?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you on such a beautiful day.” He bowed slightly to reveal an almost bald head. “My name is Mitch Connors, and I’m from the IRS.” He cleared his throat. “My condolences for the loss of your grandmother.” He sounded sincere.
“Thank you,” she said. She pulled me forward. “This is my son, Jonah.”
Mr. Connors extended his hand to me. As I shook it, I said, “Please call me Joe.” He nodded.
The man returned his attention to my mom. “Miss Johnson, we need to discuss your late grandmother’s property taxes. She never paid them.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but my mom didn’t have any money. Mr. Connors seemed like a nice man, but I didn’t want him to be there anymore.
“Jonah,” my mom said, “go out back and make sure the chicken coop is locked before it gets dark.” I wish I could say I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I had spent enough time there to know my great-grandma kept a bunch of chickens out back.
I didn’t want to leave my mom stranded there with that man. I was scared he was going to give her more bad news. She looked at me and winked.
“Go on now,” my mom said. “Everything’s going to be okay.” I wanted to believe her, but I knew it wasn’t true.
“It was nice to meet you, young man,” Mr. Connors said as I walked away. I didn’t respond to him. I shook my head and marched straight to the back of the house.
I could still hear him talking before I slammed the door. “This house will belong to us on Tuesday unless you can pay the $14,112.00 that’s due.”
I already knew we’d be living somewhere else next week. That was a good thing because I wasn’t a big fan of the mosquitoes out there. And now I didn’t have to worry about Shane or the paper about my best friend. Which was another good thing. I didn’t have a best friend.
I stood in front of a wooden shack outside the back door. It had a half moon carved into it. This wasn’t the chicken coop — no sir. This was the outhouse.
My mom used to tell me how houses didn’t have indoor plumbing in the old days. The toilets were outside in these outhouses. This house was upgraded years ago and there was a toilet inside now, but this magnificent building was still there.
I passed the outhouse and headed for the chicken coop. A large area of land around it was fenced in so the chickens could come out to eat and get some exercise. The chicken coop reminded me of the tree house I had in the city (except it was on the ground). It was made out of wood and had a door so a person could walk into it. The chickens laid their eggs in there.
They were already in the coop. There were only twelve chickens left. Great-grandma used to have a lot more, but she always said one disappeared every now and then — like a magic trick.
Right there in the back was Old Nelly. She was my great-grandma’s favorite chicken. As my great-grandma got older, she swore Old Nelly talked to her and laid golden eggs.
Now, let’s get one thing straight — Old Nelly didn’t lay golden eggs. None of that chicken’s eggs could be sold and they were not safe for human consumption. Old Nelly only laid rotten eggs!
I froze when I stepped out of the coop — half in fear, half in amazement.
An animal I had never seen before stared at me. It looked a lot like a dog, but it had to be something else. It wasn’t very big — the size of a Scottish terrier like our neighbor in Orlando had. It was a bright brown color — almost orange. The end of its tail was white, just like its chest. All four paws were black.
There were two things about this animal I would never forget. It had the bluest eyes I had ever seen, like the ocean. And it was smiling at me.
I bent down slowly and pi
cked up a stick. I wasn’t afraid of the animal. I had always wanted my own dog and this was my chance. I tossed the stick to the side and shouted, “Fetch!”
The animal jumped like it was going to run away. Then it looked over at the stick and back at me. I don’t want to sound like a crazy person, but I’m telling you this creature shook its head no at me.
“What are you?” I whispered. “You’re not a dog. If you were then you’d have a collar.” I took a step toward the animal with my hands out to show I wasn’t a threat. Something told me this creature could be my friend. “This is nuts. You’ve got to be some kind of dog. Where’s your collar?”
I stopped a few feet in front of the animal I hoped was a dog. It stared at me with its blue eyes, and then looked around like it wanted to make sure no one else was watching. It stood up slowly on its two hind legs — just like a human! What it did next took my breath away.
“I don’t know,” the animal said like a child. “Where’s your collar?”
I fell flat on my butt and scooted backwards with my hands. My great-grandma had said Old Nelly talked to her. Now that dog-like animal was talking to me. Maybe that land made people crazy.
“Jonah!” my mom screamed from the back door. “Where are you? You better not be in the outhouse!”
I couldn’t move anymore when the animal walked up to me like a human. “I’m a fox,” he said. “Don’t tell anyone you saw me here.” It winked at me and raced toward the fence. I stood up and watched in disbelief as it jumped over the fence and ran out of the yard.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON
“You locked the chicken coop, right?” my mom asked when I walked back into the house. I couldn’t remember, but that didn’t matter at the moment — so I nodded.
“We’re going to stay with Uncle Mike for a while,” she said.
