Jackson Jones, Book 1_ The Tale of a Boy, an Elf, and a Very Stinky Fish - Jenn L. Kelly [4]
Jackson tried arguing, diplomatically of course, about Great-Aunt Harriett staying in his room. Diplomatic is like when you tell your big sister to stay out of your room or you’ll tell mom what she wrote in her diary. (Not that I condone diary reading. That’s an invasion of privacy.)
Jackson’s mom pulled him into her studio and sat him down. She diplomatically told him that Great-Aunt Harriett had had a very hard life, that she was very old, and could they cut her some slack? Diplomatically
means, “Chill out little guy. I love you, but I’m the boss, and you will be gracious about sharing your room.”
It was a good thing that Jackson had an awesome bunk bed. He loved his bunk bed. He had a fort made out of old green sheets on the top bunk. He kept a flashlight up there and, underneath his signed picture of Reggie Jackson, a pen and a notebook.
Jackson would sleep on the top and Great-Aunt Harriett would be on the bottom bunk.
Chapter 7
In Which This Book Begins
And now the adventure begins.
Chapter 8
In Which This Book Really Begins
It had been a perfect family reunion day. A day full of tofu dogs and bean burgers, baked potato chips, hiding the beet risotto in a bun (because the dog sure wouldn’t eat it), hide-and-seek, capture the flag, firefly goop, and swimming in the creek. Jackson’s dad even caught a horsefly with his bare hands (his bare hands!) and tied a piece of long hair around the horsefly’s belly so that when it tried to fly away, he could yank it back. Jackson beamed with pride. His dad was so cool.
Jackson had a perfect day, but he was looking forward to bed. He could use some downtime.
He meticulously brushed and flossed his teeth, then practiced his friendly smile in the mirror.
“Hi, I’m Jackson,” he smiled into the mirror. Jackson frowned and tried again.
“Do you want to play with me today?”
He wet his hair and brushed it up into a Mohawk. Not bad.
“Dude, did you, like see the game, like, last night?” The mirror didn’t reply.
“Hey, have you ever read…”
But cool guys don’t read books. Jackson sighed. Why couldn’t there be just one other dork at school? Why couldn’t there be just one person who didn’t have a friend yet?
But Jackson knew. He knew how it was to be the new kid in school. He knew it would take a while for everyone to like him. And then they would really like him. Jackson quickly blinked back hot tears. They would see that he was a cool guy too. But no crying. Not tonight. He frowned and patted the tips of his Mohawk. No more reading at school. I’ll be the cool guy everyone wants to hang out with.
Jackson climbed into his favorite red pajamas and stretched out on the top bunk. He snuggled down into his cozy sheets. He paused in reaching for his book.
But I can read at home, he reminded himself.
A huffing and a puffing made Jackson look up from his book. Great-Aunt Harriett trundled in, dragging herself over to the bottom bunk. She plunked herself down heavily, shaking the whole bunk bed. She let out a big sigh and smacked her toothless gums. Jackson slid further under his blankets and turned the page very quietly.
Oh dear, she’s started to talk.
“Jackson dear, have I ever told you about the house I grew up in?”
“Yes, Great-Aunt Harriett. Many times.” (page turn)
“Well, let me tell you about my house. It was a beautiful house, dear.” (She obviously hadn’t heard him.)
“It had a big front porch…”
“It had a big front porch that my daddy built way back when I was just a little girl. And if you