The Waffler by Gail Donovan

Author:Gail Donovan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group, USA
Published: 2013-07-30T04:00:00+00:00

“Yes, the flip-flop thing,” answered their dad, sounding annoyed. “But not now. I don’t want to miss the parade. Come on, Monty—while we’re young, please? Put that rat away and let’s go.”

It wasn’t Monty’s fault they hadn’t left yet!

By now he didn’t even want to go to the parade with his dad, but he didn’t have much choice. He was going and his dad was going. They were going together. He put the rat back in its cage, and they left the house and walked up Atlantic Street and down Congress Street. At the bottom of the hill they found a spot to wait.

Monty’s dad pointed to the patchy gray sky. “Looks like it can’t decide whether to rain or not.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?” asked Monty.

“It was supposed to be,” said his dad, “but I guess it wasn’t. Hey, I’m sorry, okay? I’m glad you wanted to come with me.”

Monty was still sore. “I promised Leo,” he said.

“Who?” asked his dad.

“My Kindergarten Buddy,” explained Monty. “Leonard Schwarz.” He told his dad all about Leo and his sister named Harriet and his dog named Noodle.

“That’s pretty nice of you to come and watch him.”

“I guess,” said Monty.

His dad might think that Monty was being nice, but the truth was, hanging out with Leo was easier than dealing with the kids in his own grade. Leo thought he was awesome. Leo never called him Waffles.

“Who’s he marching with?”

“His Scout troop.”

“I was a Scout,” said his dad.

“You never told me that,” said Monty.

“I didn’t get too far,” admitted his dad. “But your granddad did. He went all the way to Eagle Scout.”

“He did?” Monty felt like an idiot for not knowing. But his grandfather had died before Monty was born, and his dad hardly ever talked about him.

“He gave me the badge he got when he made Eagle Scout,” said his dad, “but I lost it. I wish I’d been able to hang onto that.”

A loud noise rumbled overhead.

“Here come the planes!” said his dad, but his voice sounded funny. Tight—like he could hardly get the words out.

Monty glanced up and saw something he suddenly realized he had never seen before. His dad had tears in his eyes. It made Monty feel funny, as if he had seen something he wasn’t supposed to. Quickly he looked away—up at the sky where the planes emerged from the clouds, zoomed high above the parade route, and then disappeared. The parade was starting.

One after another, the groups went by. The high school marching band trooped by playing “You’re a Grand Old Flag.” Monty wondered if he would still be in the band in high school. He didn’t see any guys playing flute, though. How could he talk his parents into letting him switch instruments again?

The band went past, and then came a convertible car with Miss Maine perched above the backseat, smiling and waving. Then came some soldiers in uniforms, marching. First were some men and women, and then some older men, and then a couple of super- old guys.

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