The Mealworm Diaries by Anna Kerz Read Free Book Online Page B

Aaron’s attention because he stretched his neck and peered toward the back. “Hey, Jeremy!” He called and waved as he wove his way between passengers. “I’m going to the museum with my big brother. We’re gonna see the mealworms and the darkling beetles. Yeah. And the mummy, even.”
    â€œTell everybody, why don’tcha,” somebody called, and there was laughter.
    The boy with the motorcycle shirt trailed Aaron to the back. “This is Jeremy,” Aaron said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “He’s my friend.”
    â€œHi, Jeremy,” several voices called.
    Jeremy squirmed at the laughter that followed.
    The tall boy finally caught up. He smiled and said, “I’m Paul. Aaron’s Big Brother. I get to take him out once every two weeks. He can always think of some place he wants to go on our days together.”
    Jeremy’s mother smiled back. “It’s nice to meet you, Paul. You too, Aaron,” she said. Then to Jeremy, “The museum’s a great idea. Would you like to go?”
    â€œNot today,” he said quickly.
    â€œIt’s pretty neat,” the tall boy said. “Go if you get the chance.”
    â€œIt’s way neat. Way neat. It’s got everything.” Aaron nodded.
    â€œUniversity! University Avenue,” the driver called.
    â€œThat’s us. C’mon, Aaron. Let’s roll.”
    When the tall boy turned, Jeremy could see the back of his shirt—a motorcycle leaving, trailed by a funnel cloud.
    â€œThere’s even totem poles,” Aaron called before he stepped down into the street.
    â€œSo that’s Aaron,” his mother said with a grin.
    â€œNow you know why he’s called Aaron Cantwait. And just so you know, we’re not friends or anything,” he added.
    From the rear window, Jeremy watched the group on the sidewalk, a heaving shifting mob with Aaron bouncing in the middle.

TWELVE
    High Park was filled with people—moms and dads and kids, grandparents on lawn chairs and babies in strollers. Some people had pulled together two and three picnic tables and raised canopies to keep off the sun. They had portable barbecues and coolers. Some had covered the weathered tables with brightly patterned tablecloths. All of them seemed to be talking and laughing. They looked happy.
    â€œIt’s nice here,” his mother said.
    â€œHmmm.” Jeremy nodded. It was nice. But it’s not home , he thought. Not enough trees, not enough water. And people—so many people—all of them strangers. He yearned to be home in his corner of Nova Scotia where he knew everybody. Where everybody knew him. He glanced at his mother and saw his sadness reflected in her face. That only made him feel worse. He looked around for something to cheer her up. Then he saw it. “Look,” he said, pointing to a green dragon kite with a rainbow tail that hovered above a tree across from them. “See it? Right up there.”
    His mother smiled, and Jeremy did too as they watched the kite float on the wind. They saw it jerk sharply, first left, then right, and then it spiraled down.
    â€œOh! It’s going to get snagged,” his mother said. She was right. The kite dropped to a branch and hung with its dragon’s head on one side, the tail on the other. On the ground below, the small boy clutching the string started to cry.
    â€œPoor little guy,” Jeremy’s mother said.
    She began to rummage in her bag, but Jeremy’s gaze stayed on the boy and the kite. He saw a man hurry across the grass and put his hand on the boy’s head. The man wiped the boy’s nose with a tissue before he scrambled up the trunk and hoisted himself into the tree.
    â€œJeremy,” his mother said, “there’s something we have to discuss.”
    Jeremy heard, but he wasn’t listening. He was watching the man in the tree belly-crawl along the branch and stretch out his