Bluefish by Pat Schmatz Read Free Book Online Page B

attention, and the book bang does it every time. Are you here with me now?"
    Travis nodded. His heart skipped as if McQueen had just shot a lightning jolt straight into his chest.
    "What I asked was, do you want to?"
    "Want to what?"
    McQueen didn't take his eyes off of Travis's for a second. His voice went quiet, nighttime quiet.
    "Learn to read, Mr. Roberts. Do you want to learn to read?"
    Travis swallowed hard as the heat crawled up his face.
    "I can read." His voice didn't sound like his own.
    "Do you want to learn to read better? Read easily? Without so much struggle?"
    McQueen's voice was a low- running motor, and his eyes were soft behind the glasses.
    "You, Travis Roberts, can learn to read. But only if you, Travis Roberts, decide to learn. If you decide, I'll teach you, and you will learn."
    A clump of mud rose in Travis's throat and stuck there. He couldn't have said anything if he wanted to. His eyes pricked.
    "When you decide, let me know," said McQueen.
    "Now, go to lunch."
    Travis went into a stall in the boys' room, closed the door, and sat on the toilet.
    The mud clump stuck in his throat,not going up or down.
    Mrs. Keatley, the reading specialist at Salisbury, used to say, "Try, Travis.
    Can't you just try?" At first he'd tried really hard. After a while, Mrs. Keatley's lipsticky lips got less smiley when she saw him, and they bothknew it was a waste of time. He stopped trying.
    He couldn't read. Not really. Not like Velveeta, or Amber, or Chad or Bradley or Megan or everyone else.
    Even Grandpa could read. He swallowed hard, pushing the mud down. Maybe he should try again. Just try, Travis.
    The memory of Mrs. Keatley's voice was enough to stop him. He stood up, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and rubbed his hands hard over his face. He stepped out of the stall just as Bradley came in from the hallway.

    "Hey, Travis, where's Velveeta?" he asked. "Is she sick?"
    "How would I know?"
    "Do you know about the girls' report cards?" Bradley held out a piece of paper.
    Travis scanned the paper and found his name. Across from it was a line of letters. A couple of As, a B and a C and two Fs. Of course there were Fs.
    "They've been doing report cards on all of us, and Cassidy made me a copy. I flunked tall and hot, but I got a C for cute and an A for smart. I don't get how hot and cute are different, do you?"
    Travis shook his head and handed the paper back to Bradley. He couldn't even tell what he got the two As for.
    "Chad was the only one who got an A for funny."
    A couple more guys banged in, and Travis headed for the lunchroom. He got tomato soup, figuring that could slide past the mud clump without too much trouble. He sat in the usual spot by himself.
    Amber Raleigh sat at the end of the table, reading.
    Travis glanced over as she turned another page. He reached in his backpack, took out the fox book, and looked at the picture. Remembered the beginning of the story McQueen had read. He traced the fox with his finger and looked at the hound in the background.
    He opened to the first page. It. Was. A. Something, so, something, that, something, the . . .
    He didn't want to try. Just the idea of trying made his guts clench. But McQueen hadn't said, "Try." He'd said, "I will teach you and you will learn."
    Like it was a done deal.
    Like he knew.
    After the last bell, Travis stood in the doorway of McQueen's classroom.
    McQueen was there. Travis almost backed out. Then he took a deep breath, walked quickly across the room, and stopped in the doorway of the office.
    McQueen looked up from the book he was reading.
    "Yes, Mr. Roberts?"
    "I decided."
    "Decided what, Mr. Roberts?"
    "I want to learn."
    McQueen grinned like he'd been waiting all day for Travis to stand in his doorway and say just exactly that.
    "I'll see you here Monday morning at eight. That'll give us half an hour before the first bell. Bring Haunt Fox with you."
    "Okay," said Travis, backing away.
    "Travis," said McQueen, "have a good weekend."
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