The TV Kid Read Free Page B

would multiply like amoebas and fill the page.
    “Oh, all right.”
    “Really?” She looked up, smiling.
    “I think so.”
    “I knew you’d do well.” She leaned forward on her arms. “And it wasn’t the schoolteachers either —it was all that studying you did.”
    He glanced at the TV set. Farmer Fred was on. He was yelling, “Pull up your milking stools, boys and girls, and get set for Farmer Fred and his cartooooons!”
    Slowly Lennie started back to his room. The sounds of the first cartoon washed over him. It was Tweetie Bird and Sylvester. Tweetie Bird was crying, “I did! I taw a putty tat! ”
    His mom called, “Oh, Lennie, would you take a roll-away bed to three-fourteen?”
    “Yes’m.”
    As he came back through the office, pushing the bed, he saw that Sylvester was sawing a hole in the ceiling over Tweetie Bird’s cage. Lennie walked more slowly.
    “The bed, Lennie.”
    “Just let me see him fall to the floor.”
    Sylvester finished his circle in the ceiling and fell with a crash to the floor. He pulled himself up in the shape of a round paper doll.
    “I’m going ,” he said before his mother could remind him again.
    He pushed the bed out the door. There were three rooms occupied at the motel that afternoon. A farmer with a station wagon of roosters was in 310. A salesman was in 316. A family of five had just checked into 314.
    Lennie knocked at the door. “Here’s the bed,” he called out.
    “Come in.”
    Lennie opened the door and pushed the bed into the room. The television was on, and Lennie glanced quickly at it to see if he could catch the ending of the Sylvester cartoon.
    On the screen a man in a chefs suit was teaching the number three by juggling three pizzas. “ Three, ”he said.
    A girl of about five was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching the chef. Her mouth was open a little.
    “Cartoons are on Channel Seven,” Lennie said as he unfolded the bed.
    The chef took another pizza and started juggling. “ Four ,” he said.
    “Will that be all?” Lennie asked formally.
    The woman nodded, and Lennie turned to the door. The chef cried, “Five!” and the woman said, “See what else is on.”
    Lennie turned. He said, “We get Farmer Fred’s Cartoons, Gilligan’s Island, Bonanza, and Mike Douglas.”
    “Oh. Thank you.”
    “Sure.”
    Lennie started back to the office. His mother was sitting in one of the webbed chairs on the porch. It was her favorite time of the day—when she could sit out and chat with the guests. Now she was talking to the salesman in 316.
    “I delivered the bed,” Lennie said.
    She turned to him, her face bright. “Lennie, guess what this man sells?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Encyclopedias!”
    “Oh.”
    “Why, you should have been here last night.” She turned back to the salesman. “We had a regular school going out here, didn’t we, Lennie?”
    “Yes.”
    She looked at him. She said, “Listen, you go on in and watch TV if you like.”
    “I thought I wasn’t allowed.”
    “You deserve it for doing so well on your Science test.”
    “Oh, all right.”
    Lennie went into the office and sank down on the plastic sofa. He reached for the TV knob. He began to feel a little better. He said to himself, I think I’ll see what Hoss and Little Joe are up to. He leaned back on the plastic. It felt good and cool. He put his feet up on the plastic coffee table. He sighed with contentment.

Chapter Six
    L ennie came out the back door of the motel. Here lay the broken Fairy Land figures—the dwarfs and fairies that had been out in front of the motel until they crumbled. Lennie stepped around an armless Red Riding Hood and a headless fairy godmother.
    He climbed down the hill behind the motel and crossed the field. It was a Saturday, a bright October morning, and he had finished his chores at the motel. Usually he sat in the office on Saturday mornings and watched cartoons, but this morning he felt the need to get away.
    The day before he had