The Secret Life of Owen Skye by Alan Cumyn

Author:Alan Cumyn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Groundwood Books Ltd
Published: 2013-08-19T04:00:00+00:00

Cold Feet

ELEANOR WAS MRS. Foster’s eldest daughter. She had wild blonde curly hair that fell in front of her eyes whenever she bent forward, and long bony limbs. Sadie was the youngest, with straight reddish hair and bold blue eyes and tiny hands. She was quieter than her sister and seemed to fall in love with Owen that night the boys showed up at Mrs. Foster’s farmhouse half-frozen and lost. She made hot chocolate for him and brought him warm socks from her own drawer. She knelt close to him by the fire to help him roast his marshmallows. When she looked at him her eyes went dreamy and Owen’s neck started to roast and his hair stood up.

That night Uncle Lorne drove the boys home. Their parents were terribly upset about them being out so late and wandering so far from home, and they didn’t even know about the near-disasters on the ice and the train bridge. Margaret stood in the kitchen, which was steamy with the smell of soup that had been boiling for hours, and said that was it, they’d never be allowed out of the house on their own again.

Horace said he was going to give them each a hiding they’d never forget. He went to the cupboard and took out the warped ruler that he used in such times.

“I stole this ruler when I was in grade three,” Horace said. He whacked it against his thigh and all three boys jumped. Margaret stood against the counter and didn’t look as if she might be inclined to save her sons.

Horace held the ruler up for all of them to see. “What shape is it, Owen?” he asked.

“It’s w-w-warped, sir,” Owen said.

“And what does that remind me of?”

Owen’s lips were trembling badly. But he managed to say, “Of your own mistakes, sir! And how you have to stay straight! And it hurts you much more than it hurts us, sir, to have to beat us, but if you spare the bod you spoil the child, sir!”

“Rod,” Andy said.

“Spoil the rod!” Owen cried out.

“Spare the rod!” Andy said.

“Spare the child, spoil the rod!” Owen blurted.

“Quiet!” Horace said in his largest voice. Then he hit himself again on the thigh with the ruler.

There was a loud crack and half the ruler flew over the boys’ heads and into the soup pot behind them.

Owen couldn’t help it. He turned and looked at the soup pot and started to laugh.

“Shhhhh!” Horace said. “It isn’t funny!” Margaret went over to the pot and fished out the broken piece and said, “Spoil the rod!”

Then they were all laughing. Owen felt it jiggling his skin. He felt like a water balloon inside. He couldn’t stand up anymore. He collapsed on the cold kitchen linoleum and wobbled and gurgled with laughter and kicked out his legs in feeble spasms. Soon it was Owen who was so funny, and even Horace started snorting and wheezing and leaning against the wall in limp exhaustion.

That’s when Uncle Lorne came into the kitchen and said, “By the way, Lorraine and me are getting married.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.