me?”
The last time he’d asked Archie to go somewhere with him it was to a demonstration.
“Come with you where?”
“To the Meeting House.” He sat back. “I know some of us have a sceptical attitude towards the Neighbours’ Project…” That would be Savanna. She wanted to know what Cooper was trying to prove. The boys just thought it was a joke. The only extracurricular activities they took seriously involved sweat and jock straps. “But it’s actually a lot of fun,” Cooper continued. “Makes you feel like more than a ball of fluff on the carpet of time.”
“Yeah, it sounds like it’s cool and everything…” I was the only one who’d given any real thought to joining, but Savanna had laughed so much when I told her that I kind of chickened out. “It’s just that, you know…”
“What?” He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re too busy?”
“That wasn’t what I was going to say. I was going to say that I don’t exactly belong to a church.”
“Me neither.” The smile came back. “The only faith I have is in doom.”
I laughed. I was also the only one in our group who found Cooper funny haha – instead of funny peculiar. “Which means you’re never going to be disappointed.”
He picked up his glasses and shook them at me. “You see … you’re like me – you’re a realist. On whom the fate of our troubled world depends.”
“I thought you were a pessimist.” Another of Savanna’s names for him was Mr Negativity. She said he was the guy who looked at a silver lining and saw a cloud.
Cooper laughed. “You mean because I’m supposed to be anti-everything?”
“You do have a reputation.”
“So do you. You want to save everything.”
“Not
everything
.” I had a long list of things I thought the planet could do without. “If every golf course on the planet was turned into a primeval swamp I’d jump for joy.” To give you just one example.
“You see?” Cooper laughed. “You
are
like me.” He
gave me the thumbs up. “And like the good folk at Neighbours. Pessimism is thinking you can’t change anything – ever – and none of us thinks that.” He gave me a wink. “You’re just the kind of person we need.”
“I don’t know … I’m really better with other species…” You know where you are with whales.
“Look, I’m not trying to pressure you.” Cooper tilted his hat back on his head. “Not too much, anyway. I’m just saying you should come along and see what it’s like. You don’t have to commit yourself to anything. Just check it out. They can always use another volunteer. And, despite your intense love of poikilothermic herptiles, you have had dealings with human children, right? Didn’t you do some teaching in the summer? So you’re not unfamiliar with the concept.”
“Well … sort of…”
This is a tree. This is a bat roost. Those are deer droppings. Here’s how you plant a seedling…
“But those were little kids.” I was OK with little kids – they were close to my height.
“We have little kids!” He clapped his hands together. “We have lots of little kids, Gracie. Really cute little kids. And you have experience. Mrs Darling – she runs the programme – she’ll be really excited to get somebody with experience.”
“Yeah, but you know … I’m really more into the environment than little kids.”
Cooper was amused. “I hate to be the one to point this out, Ms Mooney, but little kids are part of the environment. Besides, this is a good chance for you to spread the word. Inspire them. Convert them to the cause. Not every book for little kids is about teddy bears and talking giraffes. It’s more
goodbye moon
than
goodnight moon
nowadays, isn’t it? I bet you could get some stories from the library about the stuff you’re into.” I’d never really noticed before, but he actually had a really nice smile. “You know, iguanas and trees and the collapse of civilization as we know it.”
“You could be right…” Mr
The last time he’d asked Archie to go somewhere with him it was to a demonstration.
“Come with you where?”
“To the Meeting House.” He sat back. “I know some of us have a sceptical attitude towards the Neighbours’ Project…” That would be Savanna. She wanted to know what Cooper was trying to prove. The boys just thought it was a joke. The only extracurricular activities they took seriously involved sweat and jock straps. “But it’s actually a lot of fun,” Cooper continued. “Makes you feel like more than a ball of fluff on the carpet of time.”
“Yeah, it sounds like it’s cool and everything…” I was the only one who’d given any real thought to joining, but Savanna had laughed so much when I told her that I kind of chickened out. “It’s just that, you know…”
“What?” He cocked an eyebrow. “You’re too busy?”
“That wasn’t what I was going to say. I was going to say that I don’t exactly belong to a church.”
“Me neither.” The smile came back. “The only faith I have is in doom.”
I laughed. I was also the only one in our group who found Cooper funny haha – instead of funny peculiar. “Which means you’re never going to be disappointed.”
He picked up his glasses and shook them at me. “You see … you’re like me – you’re a realist. On whom the fate of our troubled world depends.”
“I thought you were a pessimist.” Another of Savanna’s names for him was Mr Negativity. She said he was the guy who looked at a silver lining and saw a cloud.
Cooper laughed. “You mean because I’m supposed to be anti-everything?”
“You do have a reputation.”
“So do you. You want to save everything.”
“Not
everything
.” I had a long list of things I thought the planet could do without. “If every golf course on the planet was turned into a primeval swamp I’d jump for joy.” To give you just one example.
“You see?” Cooper laughed. “You
are
like me.” He
gave me the thumbs up. “And like the good folk at Neighbours. Pessimism is thinking you can’t change anything – ever – and none of us thinks that.” He gave me a wink. “You’re just the kind of person we need.”
“I don’t know … I’m really better with other species…” You know where you are with whales.
“Look, I’m not trying to pressure you.” Cooper tilted his hat back on his head. “Not too much, anyway. I’m just saying you should come along and see what it’s like. You don’t have to commit yourself to anything. Just check it out. They can always use another volunteer. And, despite your intense love of poikilothermic herptiles, you have had dealings with human children, right? Didn’t you do some teaching in the summer? So you’re not unfamiliar with the concept.”
“Well … sort of…”
This is a tree. This is a bat roost. Those are deer droppings. Here’s how you plant a seedling…
“But those were little kids.” I was OK with little kids – they were close to my height.
“We have little kids!” He clapped his hands together. “We have lots of little kids, Gracie. Really cute little kids. And you have experience. Mrs Darling – she runs the programme – she’ll be really excited to get somebody with experience.”
“Yeah, but you know … I’m really more into the environment than little kids.”
Cooper was amused. “I hate to be the one to point this out, Ms Mooney, but little kids are part of the environment. Besides, this is a good chance for you to spread the word. Inspire them. Convert them to the cause. Not every book for little kids is about teddy bears and talking giraffes. It’s more
goodbye moon
than
goodnight moon
nowadays, isn’t it? I bet you could get some stories from the library about the stuff you’re into.” I’d never really noticed before, but he actually had a really nice smile. “You know, iguanas and trees and the collapse of civilization as we know it.”
“You could be right…” Mr