The Naked Mole-Rat Letters by Mary Amato

Author:Mary Amato
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Holiday House
Published: 2005-03-21T16:00:00+00:00

“How can a string of words reach you across the way?

Can this song find you and say all there is to say?

Letters of love, fragile and thin,

Sometimes get lost in the wind . . .”

He stopped. “It’s a song,” he said.

Listening to a boy read a love song written by your dad has to be one of the most embarrassing scenes in human history. It reminded me of the time Beth saw Dad in his underwear. Only this was five thousand times worse because this was Johnny Nye, not Beth.

“He sounds serious,” Johnny said. “Who is she?”

“You can close it. I don’t need to see any more.” I got up so fast I pulled the tablecloth, and the dishes rattled. My face felt like a field that had caught fire. “Thanks a lot,” I said quickly. “See you.”

I walked out the door. To my dismay, Johnny followed. I didn’t want to have to think of anything else to say. I just wanted to get out of there.

His grandma was talking to two chickens over by a little shed I hadn’t noticed. She stood up and looked at me as if surprised. “Who’s this, Johnny?”

Her question caught me off guard. My brain was already overloaded. How could she not remember me?

Johnny stepped in. “It’s Frankie Wallop, Mammaw.” His voice was patient and soft. “I was showing her something on the computer.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Frankie.” She smiled, and the empty look in her eyes made me feel so sad, I had to look away. She really didn’t remember meeting me. Was this Alzheimer’s?

The whole picture: Johnny and his grandma on this lonely road with the trailer and the chickens . . . I was seeing it, but I couldn’t imagine living it.

“I’m gonna walk Frankie home,” Johnny said.

I didn’t even have a chance to digest that statement because what he did next blew me away. Tough Johnny Nye, the kid who gets into trouble for ditching school and cussing teachers and setting off cherry bombs, walked over and gave his grandma a kiss on the cheek.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just started walking.

“See if your girlfriend wants any tomatoes, Johnny,” his grandma called.

I’m sure she meant girl friend and not girlfriend, but I was too embarrassed to look at Johnny. I kept walking. He caught up to me with two tomatoes in his hands and an embarrassed look on his face.

“Sorry about that girlfriend thing,” he mumbled. “She didn’t know what she was saying.”

“That’s okay,” I said. I wanted to ask him about his grandma’s memory and how bad it was and how long she’d been that way. And I wanted to tell him how sweet he was with her. But I kept my mouth shut.

We walked in silence. After a while he looked at me and said, “I thought that was pretty cool.”

“What?”

“Your dad writing that song.”

I was too shocked to say a word.

“I like writing songs,” he said, and I wondered if he had written the song he had played.

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