Page 39 of Pete and His Precious

“Oh. I have to go to school. I forgot tomorrow was Monday.”

She wrinkled her nose, and I could plainly see she was not happy about that.

“I can’t promise we’ll be able to fit a whole lot in tomorrow afternoon, or any afternoon after school, but we can make plansnow to go to the farm on Saturday. I usually go there on my day off and give my aunt a hand. I know that she’ll miss me if I don’t, and I can go while you’re at school if you don’t want to, but...if you do, I’ll make sure she knows we’re coming Saturday. She might even make some kind of dessert, like pumpkin pie.”

“I love pumpkin pie! It’s my favorite!” Baxley said. And then she nodded. “Please? Every day that I don’t have to be in school, I’d like to be on the farm. I mean, if I like it as much as I think I will.”

“I think you’ll like it more,” I say, and they both look at me like they’d forgotten I was there. It had been so much fun watching the two of them interact, and remembering what Pete had said about not being very good with children. I can’t wait to rub it in that he is actually much better with kids than what he thought he was.

He doesn’t stay long after we go inside the house, and I don’t follow him out. As much as I want to.

He does turn and look at me once, and our eyes meet. I don’t know what he is thinking, but I am thinking that I can’t wait to see him tomorrow night.

Chapter 12

Pete

So spending Sunday afternoon with Baxley and Zoe was fun. And, it made me less apprehensive about what in the world I am going to do with a ten-year-old.

I kept wondering if I was going to have to babysit her, but I am pretty sure now that isn’t the case.

The morning isn’t bad. I just stand around while she is upstairs getting ready, and then when she moves into the kitchen, I do too.

The housekeeper, Glenda, is really sweet, and made me crepes for breakfast as well.

crepes are not my favorite, but I haven’t had anything to eat, and they go down real good with the coffee that she made. It is the best coffee I’ve ever had. Probably some kind of expensive French kind of coffee, but whatever it is, I appreciate it.

Then, I kinda sit around twiddling my thumbs, unsure of what I should do for the entire day. I consider going to the diner where Zoe said she was a waitress. That’s what I really want to do. But I know I probably should spend some time on the farm. Actually, this whole month, I will have every day there is school to spend almost eight hours working on the farm. Goodness knows there are plenty of things for me to catch up on, so, after I drop Baxley off, I head straight to the farm.

Aunt Arley is very happy to see me, I get a good bit done, and get a good lunch to boot.

If this keeps up, I am going to gain weight like crazy while I am off.

I heard that Kylie had a safe trip to the airport and her plane was in the sky. Of course, they wouldn’t know for sure whethershe actually made it for a few hours. I don’t even know how long it takes to fly to France. I’ve never flown anywhere.

Nor do I want to. Not that I’m afraid of flying, I’m just very content where I’m at. I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing the country a little bit, but I need to have a travel companion that I like well enough to want to spend days on end traveling with them. Traveling can be... Hair-raising, to say the least.

Anyway, when I get back from the farm, I shower and head back to the school, getting there fifteen minutes before it lets out.

I have to admit, I thought about Zoe all day. I don’t know what she thinks of me, and I kind of want to find out. But I have five hours before I can.

I’m just putting in time with Baxley, then something happens that makes me think that maybe this month with Baxley isn’t going to be too bad.

“How was school?” I ask her, thinking that is what the adult is supposed to say when a kid gets in their car after leaving the school building.

“Boring,” Baxley says, sounding as depressed as I always felt when I left the building. I know that some kids love school, and good for them. I wasn’t one of them. It looks to me like Baxley is the same, which is kind of surprising, because she seems like the type that would. She is quiet, and an only child, and just has the kind of personality that probably makes her good in the classroom, although that is pure speculation on my part.

“That’s too bad,” I say, feeling sad that kids had to waste their childhood going somewhere they hate.

I think I could have learned everything I learned in school in about six months of intensive training when I was eighteen.

I think I would have been pretty happy roaming the woods until I was seventeen and a half, had that six months of intensive training, and then be ready to face adulthood.

Maybe that’s just wishful thinking, but it feels like somewhere, someone needs to do a study, to see if kids thrive just as well growing up pretty much feral, until they are almost adults, when we can take them and cram everything in their heads instead of spending thirteen slow years killing them while we slow drip it to them.

“What do you do for fun at home?” I ask, feeling like we have exhausted the school subject with the two sentence exchanges that we had.

“Do you play ping-pong?” she asks me, instead of answering my question.

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