Me and Mr. Bell Read Free

hill. There was no one else around. It was cloudy, but the air was warm. I wasn’t walking anywhere in particular, just crossing the field and feeling the grass with my hands. Dandelions were sticking out of the grass like soldiers with bright yellow helmets. I was always amazed that where the grass was short, the dandelions were short. Where the grass was long, the dandelions were tall. I figured they had to keep up with the grass if they wanted to get any of the sunshine. The cows loved to eat them.
    Mr. Bell came charging down the hill like a bear in a wool suit that was too small for him. I knew it was him even though I had never seen him before. He was tall, big and round and had a white bushy beard. He didn’t look like a farmer; a farmer would never have such a big belly. It didn’t seem to slow him down, though. He was talking loudly and waving his arms in the air, but there was nobody beside him. He was talking to himself.
    He reached the bottom of the hill and crossed the field as if he didn’t even see it. He walked right past me without seeing me, either! I wondered if maybe he was walking in his sleep. But it was the middle of the afternoon.
    I followed him. At the end of the field was a pile of stones. I was curious to see if he would stop and go around it, climb over it or maybe walk right into it. He didn’t seem to be looking where he was going.
    He went right over the rocks without even slowing down. But as he did, a pencil fell out of his pocket. So I ran and picked it up and tried to catch up with him. He was walking fast! I called after him. “Mr. Bell!” He didn’t hear me. “Mr. Bell!” Still he didn’t hear me. So I shouted. “ Mr. Bell!” Then he stopped.
    He turned around and saw me. He looked confused. He frowned and squinted at me as if he were trying to figure out what I was. I held up the pencil. “You dropped this, Sir.”
    He took a deep breath and let it out, and I thought I could feel it from twenty feet away. His face changed, like ice melting really fast. He turned from looking like a wild bear to looking like the friendliest person I had ever seen in my whole life. He came toward me, pushing the tall grass out of his way, reached out with fat fingers and took the pencil out of my hand. Then he smiled at me as if I were his best friend. His eyes twinkled under his bushy eyebrows.
    â€œNow, who would you be?”
    I didn’t know how to answer him, so I said, “Nobody.”
    â€œNobody?” He grinned. “I never met nobody before. Are you sure you aren’t somebody ?”
    â€œWell, my name is Eddie.”
    When I said that, his eyes opened really wide, his cheeks fell and he suddenly looked sad. I wondered what was wrong, but was afraid to ask.
    â€œWhat did you say your name was?”
    â€œEddie.”
    He wasn’t smiling now. He looked far away, and he looked sad.
    â€œEddie. Ah … my little brother was called Eddie. He died a long time ago, the poor fellow. A day doesn’t go by I don’t think of him.”
    I didn’t know what to say, so I said, “I have a brother, too.”
    He stared at me and started smiling again. “Well, shake my hand, young Eddie. I’m Alec Bell. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
    â€œI’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir.” I stuck out my hand, and he shook it. His hand was large, hot and sweaty. Then he nodded his head at me, winked, turned around and walked away, pushing the grass and dandelions out of his way. I stood and watched him go. I was excited now. I had just met the smartest man in the world.
    When I came in for supper and told my mother that I had met Mr. Bell, she made a face at me and told me to stop telling stories. I said that I wasn’t; I had really met him. She looked up from the stove where she was mashing potatoes. “Where?”
    â€œIn the field above