The True Blue Scouts of Sugar Man Swamp by Kathi Appelt Read Free Book Online

big. Something huge. Something that would take up at least two thousand acres.
    And that’s when the man said, “You must be Audie Brayburn’s grandson. I’m Sonny Boy Beaucoup. And this lovely lady is Jaeger Stitch.”
    Chap’s jaw must have dropped open six inches. As it turns out, he knew exactly who Jaeger Stitch was: the World Champion Gator Wrestler of the Northern Hemisphere. He had seen her before on television. What he didn’t know was what she was doing at Paradise Pies Café at the crack of dawn.
    Was she here to help Sonny Boy collect his boatload of cash? Chap’s hand started to shake. Surely their lease wasn’t up yet, was it? Didn’t they have a little more time? He gripped the handle of the coffeepot so hard that his knuckles turned white. Hot bitter coffee sloshed inside the pot.
    He knew it wouldn’t be very mannish to pour the hot liquid right in Sonny Boy’s lap, but he had a hard time resisting, especially when Sonny Boy looked directly at him and said, “Boy, you’ve got flour on your nose.”

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    E VEN THOUGH HE HAD ONLY been asleep for a few hours, Bingo opened his eyes. It was still dark, but the air had that “in between” feel to it, that it’s-not-quite-night but it’s also not-quite-day-either quality.
    His stomach growled. Despite his weariness from Mission Longleaf, he was having a hard time sleeping over the ruminations of his belly. What if he had a little pre-sunrise snack? What if he just slipped out of the DeSoto and grabbed a handful of ripe dewberries? What if he went right there and hurried back, lickety-split?
    He knew exactly where those dewberries grew. Right around the bend near Possum Hollow. And, if he hurried, he might be able to snatch them off the vines before the possums even knew about it.
    The truth was, the possums of Possum Hollow were greedy about those dewberries. And they had very sharp,pointy teeth, which they weren’t afraid to use. But who made them kings of the patch?
    So, hi ho , young Scout. It’s Mission Dewberry or bust.

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    B UST ? D ID SOMEONE SAY BUST ? Chap wiped the flour off his nose. If he’d only had an egg in his hand, he would have busted it right on Sonny Boy’s head.
    Before he could bust something else, namely the coffeepot in his hand, his mother walked up. Chap stood beside her and rocked back and forth on his heels. His mom reached over and put her hand on his shoulder to make him stop. Together they stared at the plans spread out on the table before them.
    There, in bold letters, they saw the words: “The Gator World Wrestling Arena and Theme Park.”
    They also saw that it would take up a significant portion of the Sugar Man Swamp. Grandpa Audie’s swamp! While Chap stared at the plans, he realized that there would be acres and acres of concrete. How many trees would have to be chopped down? A thousand? Ten thousand? More?
    The familiar flame rose up in Chap’s throat. He couldsee his grandfather’s outstretched arms, hear his voice say, This is paradise, old Chap. But Chap knew that without the trees there wouldn’t be much paradise. He stared at the plans, at the blank white space where the concrete would be poured for a parking lot. Suddenly, the blank white space reminded Chap of the blank white page in Grandpa Audie’s sketchbook, the one left open for the ivory-billed woodpecker. If Sonny Boy’s plans became real, the page would always be just that: blank. Trees didn’t grow in concrete. Without the trees, the woodpecker could never come back. IBWO. Ghost bird.
    Right then, Chap felt the ghost of his grandfather beside him. He rocked forward onto his toes, as if he might launch his body straight through the ceiling of the café.
    Chap watched the right corner of his mother’s mouth twitch again. She wiped her hands on her apron. He kept his own mouth clamped tight. Sonny Boy drawled, his voice as thick as