Me and Mr. Bell by Philip Roy Page B

could. But they did. My sister did. My father did. My friends did. Even my brother was learning to. So why couldn’t I? I looked down at the list that I had promised to learn, and I felt sick in my stomach.
    The next day was Sunday and we had to go to church. I didn’t mind going but hated having to dress up. I had one suit that used to be too big but now was too small. I had to wear it anyway. My wrists stuck out of the sleeves unless I pulled my shoulders up, which was uncomfortable if I did it for long. The pants didn’t cover my socks and didn’t even come close to my shoes. My mother said that I couldn’t go to church unless I was dressed up, and I had to go to church. Once we were there, I folded my arms the way my father did, and that hid the shortness of my sleeves.
    I was sitting there, between my mother and my brother, when all of a sudden somebody yelled out, “Where’s the Pope?” Then there was laughter – something you never heard in church. Everyone turned around and saw Frankie MacIsaac standing up, until his mother and father pulled him back down in his seat. Frankie was twenty years old, but acted like a child. He had an accident on the farm when he was little, and now he would always be like a child. People said that he was simple. When I turned back in my seat, I saw my father staring at me. It made me uncomfortable. I wished I knew what he was thinking. Then when we were leaving, Frankie saw me and grabbed the arm of my jacket. “Hi, Eddie!” he said.
    â€œHi, Frankie.”
    â€œHi, Eddie! Hi!” He seemed awfully anxious to talk to me. I glanced at my father. He was frowning and shaking his head at me. I turned away from Frankie and followed my father out the door.
    That night, I had a disturbing dream. I was sitting on a fence along a road. Frankie was sitting beside me, and we were staring at the road where people were walking by. The people were all dressed up for church, but we weren’t. I wanted to leave, but Frankie wanted to stay. “I think I’m going to go now, Frankie,” I said.
    â€œWe should stay here, Eddie.”
    â€œNo, I don’t want to stay here, I want to go.”
    â€œBut we can’t go, Eddie.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause we don’t have any legs, Eddie! We don’t have any legs!” And he started to laugh as if he were crazy. I looked down and saw that he was right, we didn’t have any legs.
    I woke to the sound of the back door slamming. It slammed so hard it shook the house. It must have been the wind. Then, I heard my father talking loudly with my mother. I wondered what was going on. I jumped up, got dressed and went down to the kitchen. My mother was sitting at the table with her arms folded. My mother didn’t sit down very often. She looked upset. My father was standing in the doorway with a spade in his hand. When he saw me, he said, “Grab your jacket and boots.”
    â€œYes, Sir.”
    â€œHe hasn’t had his breakfast yet, Donald.”
    â€œWe won’t be long.”
    My mother sighed heavily. “He needs to go to school.”
    My father looked at my mother, and his face softened a bit. He looked sorry. “He needs to learn skills that he can use, Mary. That’s what he needs. He needs that more than school.”

Chapter 11
    I grabbed my jacket, pulled on my boots and followed my father out the door. My mother shoved a cookie into my hand. My father carried the spade and took long strides. I had to run to keep up. He never said a word to me all the way to the field. I ate the cookie quickly in case he did. The wind was blowing hard, and it was wet but not really raining yet. The field was on the back side of the hill, behind the house and on the other side of our best field, where the hill sloped down toward the woods. It wasn’t deep, but it was wide. It was like a bald spot in the back of our farm. A useless piece of land. And