The Gift Read online

  Text copyright © 2018 by Jeri Anne Agee

  Illustrations copyright © 2018 by Skyhorse Publishing

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without the express written consent of the publisher, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles. All inquiries should be addressed to Sky Pony Press, 307 West 36th Street, 11th Floor, New York, NY 10018.

  First Edition

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are from the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

  Cover design by Sammy Yuen

  Cover illustration by Bryan Langdo

  Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-5107-2453-2

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-5107-2460-0

  Printed in the United States of America

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: Small Town, Big News

  Chapter 2: Lunchroom Disaster

  Chapter 3: The New Kid

  Chapter 4: The Tree House

  Chapter 5: Bouncy Pony Ride

  Chapter 6: Call from Mrs. Baker

  Chapter 7: Flying Tater Tots

  Chapter 8: The Fire

  Chapter 9: The Gift

  Chapter 10: Rainbow Park

  Chapter 11: Halloween

  Chapter 12: Peter, Peter the Pumpkin Eater

  Chapter 13: New Friends and New Beginnings

  Chapter 1

  SMALL TOWN, BIG NEWS

  My name is Birdie Mae Hayes and I live in Rainbow, Alabama with my mama, daddy, and my little brother Bubba. I’m in third grade and my best friend, Sally Rose Hope, lives right down the street from me. I know, I know, it sounds like the perfect life, except that my little brother Bubba drives me crazy, and lately I can’t stop feeling like something is about to happen. Or maybe like I’m waiting for something. I don’t really know how to describe it. I asked Sally if she ever feels like she’s waiting for something, and she said, “Waiting for what, like the bus or something?”

  I haven’t said anything to Mama about it because she would probably make me lie down or tell me it’s a phase and I’ll grow out of it. She’s always saying Bubba will grow out of phases, like sucking his thumb or eating paper (well, he still eats paper sometimes but Mama says he will grow out of that eventually).

  It’s been six weeks since school started, and it’s been pretty quiet around here. I mean, there have been a couple of little things, like when Bubba tried to clean off his feet in the toilet and got his foot stuck and the fire department had to come, or when Sally’s cat pulled a chunk of her hair out. Sally got a real cute haircut to cover it up though and no one could tell anything had happened. Except for on the weekends when she just gets up and comes over and her hair is still kind of sticking up and you can see a bald spot the size of a golf ball on the back of her head. Luckily, it’s growing back pretty fast, I know because she asks me about fifty gazillion times a day if her bald spot is showing. I mean, I’ve heard Daddy ask Mama that before but not all day long, every single day.

  I guess the biggest news to hit our town since the movie theater got a second screen is that someone is finally moving into old lady Miller’s house. Old lady Miller lived in that house by herself for as long as I can remember. Well, by herself if you don’t count about fifty cats. I’m just guessing it was about fifty because every time Sally and I would walk by her house we would try to count the ones we could see. We usually counted around twenty-five or so. We thought if we could see twenty-five cats there’s got to be at least another twenty-five we can’t see. Anyway, Mama said that old lady Miller got too old to take care of herself and her cats so she moved in with her son and his family. I sure hope they like cats!

  At church last Sunday all the talk was about the new family moving into old lady Miller’s house. You would think it was the Queen of England moving to Rainbow. Sally’s mama and daddy told my mama and daddy their last name is Doolittle and they have a girl who’s close to Bubba’s age and a boy about our age. If that’s true and he’s in third grade he’ll be in either Miss Flowers’s class or Mrs. Crumbly’s class.

  Miss Flowers and Mrs. Crumbly are the only two third-grade teachers and they are about as opposite as you can get. Miss Flowers is young and really sweet and Mrs. Crumbly is old and kind of grumpy. Well, I don’t really know if she’s grumpy or not. She’s never said anything to me but whenever I see her, she looks like a mad grandma. And I can hear her yelling at her class through the wall sometimes.

  Sally was real happy when she found out we got Miss Flowers instead of Mrs. Crumbly. Sally’s brother Darrel had Mrs. Crumbly two years ago and she didn’t want to be the one to remind Mrs. Crumbly of when Darrel put a piece of gum on her chair! Yep, she sat in it. Then she threatened to give the entire class extra homework for two weeks if someone didn’t come forward. Sally said Darrel admitted it right away because he would pick getting in trouble over extra homework any day.

  But if there is a new boy coming to our school anytime soon, no one seems to know anything about it, and no one has moved into old lady Miller’s house yet. I guess this feeling I’m having could be because of a new boy? But I sure hope it’s a lot more exciting than that. Mama says that sometimes you need to listen to your gut, and right now my gut is telling me that things are about to get a lot more interesting in my life.

  Chapter 2

  LUNCHROOM DISASTER

  A few days later, there was a big moving truck in front of old lady Miller’s house. Sally and I tried to watch as much as we could without being too obvious. We must have ridden our bikes back and forth in front of their house for over an hour and we still didn’t see anyone other than the movers. We never saw a mom or dad or any kids.

  Even the next morning when we got on the bus and stopped near the Miller house, only the usual kids were waiting. There wasn’t a new kid in the bunch.

  Then finally during the morning announcements, the principal, Mr. Green, announced, “Today is a special day because we have a new student. His name is Peter Doolittle Jr. and he is in Mrs. Crumbly’s third grade class. I want everyone to give him a warm Rainbow Elementary welcome!”

  I’m sure Peter Doolittle Jr. was already nervous enough on his first day at a new school without having Mr. Green tell everybody his name and whose class he’s in. I bet every kid in Mrs. Crumbly’s class was staring a hole through him.

  That day at lunch Sally and I were in the lunch line trying to decide between the Salisbury steak or the chicken nuggets when we saw a big crowd around one of the lunch tables. All I could see was Virginia Flanker in the middle of it all. It’s not hard to see her because she’s about six feet tall and her ponytail is up so high it makes her seem even taller! She still wears a dress to school every day but at least she hasn’t chased any of the boys around trying to kiss them this year . . . yet. She’s best friends with Doyle Baker, who’s in fourth grade. He is pretty much the school bully and is always trying to embarrass the younger kids. He and Virginia are friends because the Flankers and the Bakers have lived next door to each other since they were little. I don’t know if Doyle’s meanness rubbed off on Virginia or if Virginia’s meanness rubbed off on Doyle. Last year at th
e school carnival on the last day of school, Sally and I waited in the snow cone line forever. As soon as we got our snow cones Virginia came running up behind us and “accidentally” tripped and fell into us. We both dropped our snow cones in the dirt, upside down, of course. She said, “Oops, I didn’t see you there!” and ran away laughing.

  I was still thinking about my grape and cherry snow cone falling in the dirt when Sally elbowed me in the side because Miss Percy, our lunchroom lady, was asking me if I wanted the Salisbury steak or the chicken nuggets. Sally and I both decided on the Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes with extra gravy, and two rolls with extra gravy to dip them in. We both really like gravy.

  As we were walking over to our table I finally saw what all the fuss was about. There was a crowd of kids around a boy I’d never seen before. I was trying to get a better look when he turned his head and looked right at me. I could feel my face getting red. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going and didn’t notice that Sally had stopped walking. I walked right into the back of her and all I can say is huge gravy mess! Not only did I hit Sally in the back with my tray but my plate slid off my tray and right onto my shirt. Well, of course Sally let out a scream as soon as I smacked her in the back with my tray and everyone in the lunch room turned around to see what happened. The only thing I remember after that is the boy I’d never seen before handing me a big stack of napkins. He was tall with red hair and blue eyes, and that’s when I realized it must be Peter Doolittle. After that it was just a blur of lunch ladies and mops and Miss Flowers helping me get cleaned up in the bathroom. She left for a minute and came back in with a T-shirt from the lost and found. She said it was the best she could find. It was lime green and said I BROUGHT THE AWESOME, WHAT DID YOU BRING?

  Thank goodness it’s Friday, I thought.

  Chapter 3

  THE NEW KID

  Peter Doolittle still wasn’t on the bus after school that day.

  “Maybe he doesn’t know all the kids ride the bus around here,” I said to Sally. Sally wiped the sweat from her forehead and pulled out her paper fan and said, “Well, I don’t know where he’s going to sit if he does start riding the bus; we’re already packed in here like sardines.”

  We went to my house so I could change out of the I BROUGHT THE AWESOME, WHAT DID YOU BRING? T-shirt. Then we grabbed a snack and decided to walk over to the park before dinner. We were sitting in our usual swings when Sally’s brother Darrel, who’s in fifth grade, rode his bike right between us and pushed us both so we were swinging sideways and crashed into each other.

  Sally yelled, “Darrel, I’m telling Mama if you don’t stop bothering us every time we’re up here!”

  He just ignored her and kept riding his bike straight into the woods until we couldn’t see him anymore. There’s a hiking trail in the woods with a tree house back there that kids play in sometimes.

  We were just staring at where Darrel had ridden his bike into the woods and didn’t hear anyone walk up.

  “Hey!” we heard a voice say.

  We both screamed.

  Peter Doolittle Jr. said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Sally exclaimed, “You can’t just sneak up on people like that. You almost gave us a heart attack!”

  I realized who he was and said, “Hey, you must be the new kid. I’m Birdie Mae, and this is Sally.”

  He said, “I’m Peter. We just moved in down the street.”

  Sally said proudly, “Yeah, we know who you are—everybody knows. This is a pretty small town if you haven’t noticed. We were wondering why you didn’t ride the bus today. And are there any cats living in your house? And is Mrs. Crumbly really a mean teacher? And—”

  “Sally, stop asking him so many questions!” I said.

  Peter laughed and said, “That’s okay. I don’t mind. I wasn’t on the bus today because it was my first day and I had to go in early with my mom to fill out some papers and stuff, but I’ll be riding the bus from now on. And I haven’t seen any cats living in our house so far, and I haven’t been in Mrs. Crumbly’s class long enough to know if she’s mean or not, but I’ll let you know.”

  We talked for a little while longer until we heard some hoots and hollers and laughter coming from the woods where Darrel had ridden his bike.

  Peter asked, “What’s going on in there?”

  “Darrel, Sally’s brother, rode his bike in there and there’s probably some kids playing around on the tree house back there,” I said.

  Peter exclaimed, “There’s a tree house? Let’s go see what’s going on!”

  Sally and I just looked at each other because neither of us had ever actually been to the tree house. We’d never even walked far enough back in the woods to get a glimpse of it. But we both shrugged our shoulders, and the three of us started walking that way.

  Chapter 4

  THE TREE HOUSE

  It seemed like the longer we walked the bigger the trees got and the smaller the trail got. I was beginning to wonder if we took the wrong trail when we rounded a corner and walked into a clearing. Right there standing in the middle was the biggest tree I’ve ever seen. There were two bikes leaning against the bottom of the tree, and at the very top was a huge purple tree house with a bright green door. We looked up and there was Darrel with the school bully, Doyle Baker. Darrel was on the roof of the tree house leaning way out, trying to grab a rope that was tied to a tree branch. The tree house looked like it was about a hundred years old and might fall out of that tree any minute.

  Doyle looked up at Darrel and yelled, “Hey, I said I was going first!” and grabbed Darrel’s leg and almost made him fall.

  Darrel yelled back, “Hold your horses, I want to make sure the rope is tied tight enough.”

  Peter looked at us and whispered, “I don’t know what they’re planning on doing, but I sure hope it doesn’t have anything to do with swinging off the top of that tree house.”

  Just then I felt it—the feeling again, like butterflies in my stomach, but extra butterflies. Like something was about to happen . . . but it was different. It was stronger than usual, and it was starting to make me feel nervous.

  Sally looked at me and asked, “Birdie Mae, what’s wrong? You look like you’re going to be sick or something!”

  That’s when it happened: I closed my eyes for a second, and I saw a vision of Doyle Baker falling out of the tree and landing on the ground. Before I knew what was happening or why, I yelled, “DON’T DO IT!” at the top of my lungs.

  Sally and Peter both jumped when I yelled and then everything got quiet and everyone, including Darrel and Doyle, was staring at me.

  “Whoa!” exclaimed Sally. “What’s gotten into you?”

  Before I could say anything, Darrel hopped down off the roof of the tree house and said, “The roof is pretty bad but the real problem is that branch. I don’t think it’s strong enough to hold anyone swinging on that rope.”

  Darrel may ride his bike like a crazy person and get in trouble at school, but he’s not going to do something dumb like swing from a rope off the top of a tree house, I thought.

  Just then, Doyle pushed Darrel aside and climbed up on top of the tree house anyway. He gave the rope a couple of tugs, chuckled, and said, “It feels fine to me. Maybe you’re just a big chicken.”

  Darrel looked at Doyle for a long time and just shook his head and said, “Doyle, it’s a bad idea, but I’m not your mama and I can’t tell you what to do.” And then he climbed down the ladder and walked over to where we were standing.

  Doyle just laughed and yelled, “What are you, the tree house police or something?”

  Before anyone could say another word, he grabbed the rope and swung way out from the roof of the tree house. We heard a loud crack, and then we saw Doyle Baker fall and hit the ground. It happened so fast we didn’t know what to do. He sat up slowly, looked over at us, grabbed his ankle, and started crying like a baby. We ran over, and Darrel and Peter helped him up and dusted him off.
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br />   He tried to walk, and started crying even harder.

  Darrel has a big box strapped to the front of his bike that he uses to carry around all sorts of things. Last summer he found five puppies by the river, so he loaded them up in his box and rode around town with them until he found each one of them a good home. I guess today he planned on using it to carry Doyle, because he and Peter lifted Doyle up and squeezed him down into the box. Once he was in there, his knees were touching his chin and all you could see was his head and the bottom of his legs sticking out. I was wondering if they would ever get him back out.

  With Doyle crammed in the box, still crying like a baby, Darrel hopped on his bike and took off. He was pedaling so fast we had to run to try to keep up with him. Just as we came out of the woods we caught a glimpse of them at the bottom of the hill heading toward Doyle’s house.

  Peter, Sally and I just stood there looking down the hill. Then Peter said, “Birdie Mae, why did you yell for Doyle not to jump?”

  I guess Sally wanted to know the answer too because she turned around and looked at me and said, “Yeah, you’re usually not such a worrywart, what was that all about?”

  I said, “I don’t know, it just didn’t look safe and I thought somebody might get hurt.” I didn’t want to get into the whole thing in front of Peter.

  Sally said, “Of course someone was going to get hurt. No one should be up on that old thing, much less trying to swing like a monkey from a tree. You and Darrel both told him not to do it and he still did. He’s not the sharpest crayon in the box, if you know what I mean.”

  Then Peter said, “Well, I hope he’s okay. I guess I better be getting home. I’ll see you at school on Monday.”

  Once he was gone, I looked around to make sure Sally and I were alone and then I whispered, “Sally, something really strange just happened to me back there.”