The Absolute Value of Mike

The Absolute Value of Mike Read Free

Book: The Absolute Value of Mike Read Free
Author: Kathryn Erskine
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How many exits do we need?”
    â€œActually,” I corrected her, “it says Gate 3B .”
    She squinted at it. “Oh. Well, that’s a bad sign.” She held out her tiny pale hand. “Anyway, I’m glad to finally meet you, dear. Do you like scrapple?”
    I stared at her. “Excuse me?”
    She took a step closer and looked up at me. Even though I wasn’t that tall, I still towered over her. “Scrapple,” she repeated.
    What the heck was scrapple? “What?”
    She chewed her lip for a moment and waved her hand at me, and I bent my head down to her level.
    I could hear her taking a big, raspy breath. “SCRAPPLE,” she shouted.
    â€œOw!” I put my hand over my ringing ear.
    â€œOh, that must be your good ear. My left ear is my good one, too! We already have something in common.” She patted my hand—the one that wasn’t holding my ear. “We need to go to Shop ’n Save because I want to buy you some food and Poppy really needs his scrapple.”
    I stared at her stupidly because I couldn’t think of what to say.
    Moo gazed at me, her smeared red lipstick making her smile even broader. “You look like your father, dear. Only not as . . .”
    Smart. “Yeah, I know.”
    She glanced at the Exit 88/Gate 3B sign for a moment, then looked around the concourse as if she were lost. “But I can’t see you.”
    â€œI’M RIGHT HERE.”
    She flinched and turned her owl glasses to me. “I know, dear. What I meant was I can’t see your eyes because your hair is in front of them.”
    I tried pushing some hair out of my eyes, but it didn’t work very well. My hair grows in stupid swirls all over the place. I figure it’s a commentary on what’s directly underneath.
    â€œYour hair is very different from your father’s. James’s hair was so limp. Yours is—well, you just don’t see that many people with cowlicks.”
    â€œThat’s because I got all of theirs.”
    â€œWould you like me to give you a trim?” She reached over and touched one of my swirls.
    I cringed at the thought of someone with her eyesight cutting my hair.
    â€œOh, that’s right, James hated anyone touching his hair, too.” She sighed. “At least you don’t cover your ears and scream.”
    â€œExcuse me? Dad used to do that?”
    â€œYes. You mean he’s outgrown that?”
    â€œYeah, well . . . he’s fifty-six now. What else did he used to do?”
    â€œWell, he was always forgetting things.”
    â€œHe still does.”
    â€œAnd he loved candy.”
    â€œThat hasn’t changed, either.”
    â€œHe had . . . unusual ideas.”
    â€œThat’s because he’s a genius.”
    â€œOh, is that what they’re calling it now?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œNever mind. I’m glad to hear he’s grown up a little. It takes some of us a long time, doesn’t it? Still, little steps eventually get us somewhere. Speaking of which, we need to get moving.” She turned and started off the way she came, her pale yellow sneakers looking like duck feet padding down the concourse, pushing through the small crowd of people.
    I grabbed my backpack and sports bag and followed her.
    â€œJames said you’re going to help Poppy, and I must say, he could certainly use the help. Are you good at working with wood?”
    I thought about my C’s in shop class. It was the fine corners I wasn’t any good at. But a screw didn’t have fine corners. “Woodworking? I can’t get enough of it!”
    She clapped her hands. “That’s wonderful, Mike!”
    â€œWhat exactly am I going to be doing?”
    â€œOh, Poppy will let you know.” Her smile remained frozen. “Eventually.”
    â€œEventually?”
    But she hurried on. “I want you to have some fun, too! All work and no play makes James a very

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