Chapter Four~ Not Alone
1892 A.D.
"Have a good day, son," Thaddeus Thatch said, slapping Milo's cap onto the boy's head, handing him a sacked lunch and ushering him out the door.
"Yeah, sure," Milo replied. Grandpa said that every day before Milo went to school, but it never happened. Milo knew that he never would fit in with his classmates. He was smarter than all of them put together when it cam to books, but he was far too innocent and inexperienced in others to be considered anything more than a dork by the boys in his class. The girls weren't much nicer, either. A good day to Milo was a day that everyone ignored him and left him alone to his fantasies, his dreams of ancient times, when things were far more mystic and much better for a idealist like himself.
Unfortunately, Milo was rarely left in peace at Henderson Elementary School. He usually was too busy defending his life from the likes of Barnabas Jones, the school bully, to fantasize about far off lands like Atlantis.
"Hey, Thatch-head, what's for lunch?" a cruel voice lisped. Milo cringed. It looked like today was going to be no different. He turned to face the round-cheeked, freckle-faced giant that towered over him.
"P-p-peanut butter and banana sandwich, Barnabas," Milo stammered almost inaudibly. "And an apple for a snack."
Barnabas snatched the snack from Milo's small, shaking hand. "Peanut butter and banana, huh? Ya know, Thatch, sweets ain't good for you. I'd better confiscate this. You might get poisoned or somethin'."
"But, Barnabas! My Grandpa made that lunch for me!" Milo protested weakly.
"Yer Grandpa, huh? You a Grandpa's boy? Heh-heh-heh!" Barnabas teased. "Then why don't you go run home a-cryin' to yer Grandpa and have him make you a new one, cuz this one's mine!" Cackling, the little urchin stomped away, leaving a cowering Milo in his wake. Before he left, he spit at the smaller boy through the gap between his teeth.
"Oh, great. Yet another miserable day in my even more miserable life!" Milo cried.
"You know, you really shouldn't let him pick on you like that. That pug-nosed creep is no better than you are," an unfamiliar voice said from behind Milo. Milo turned and saw another little boy about his own age approaching.
"Who are you?" Milo asked uncertainly.
"My name's Billy," the boy said. "My family just moved here from Topeka. That's in Kansas."
"Oh. Hello. My name's Milo," Milo said, still shaken up.
"Do you go to Henderson Elementary?" Billy asked.
"Yes, actually, I do," Milo replied.
"Great! Today is going to be my first day there! I'm in the fifth grade," Billy said proudly. "Will you show me around the school, Milo?"
"Uh, sure!" Milo said excitedly. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all!
~*~ "Class, this is Billy McCormick," Miss Gunderson, the fifth
grade teacher, announced. "He and his family just moved here from Kansas. I
trust that you will all ne friendly and helpful to him whilst he gets his
bearings," she continued, shooting a glare at Barnabas Jones. Barnabas returned
the glare with a "butter wouldn't melt in my mouth" smile.
Billy nervously took the seat in the double desk adjoining Milo. Across the aisle, unfortunately, was where Barnabas had decided to sit, if only to torment the innocent boys. Today he started in earlier than usual, Milo noted. "Kansas, huh?" Barnabas sneered. "Didja live on a farm?"
Billy's face brightened. "Why, yes, I did live on a farm!"
Barnabas cackled. "Farm boy, huh? So why did ya come to New York, farm boy? Did your hogs leave town? Heh-heh-heh!"
Milo lowered his head. Billy stared at Barnabas in surprise. Farm boy? That was the first time someone had called Billy that and intended it as an insult.
Soon the whole class was snickering under their breaths. The nerd and the farm boy- what a perfect pair of losers! Milo felt awful. His presence was detrimental to Billy's reputation as well as his own! What a way for Billy to start his first day at a new school.
Billy just frowned. This was different than what he had experienced in Kansas. He would have to be quick on his feet in this new place- and his friend Milo had better learn to do the same, or get crushed on the way.
~*~ That afternoon, Billy went over to Milo's house to play.
Grandpa Thatch opened the door at the sound of the knock.
"Well, hello there, son! You must be Milo's little friend Billy. Come right on in." Billy stepped somewhat nervously into the entryway as Thaddeus continued. "I'm Milo's grandfather. Feel free just to call me 'Grandpa Thatch.' Milo's in the parlor."
Milo raced in before Thaddeus finished his sentence. "Hiya, Billy! What do you want to play first?"
"Well, Milo, is it okay if we go to the field around the block? There's a neat game that we like to play out west that I'd love to teach you," Billy suggested.
"Grandpa? Can I go? Can I? Huh? Huh?" Milo exclaimed.
"All right, all right, hold your horses there, son! Of course you can go if you're back before dark," Thaddeus chuckled.
"Yeah! Thanks, Grandpa!" Milo shouted as he and Billy raced out the door. Once outside, Billy handed Milo a curious elongated piece of wood, slightly wider on one end than the other. "What's this?" Milo asked.
"Oh, that's the bat," Billy explained.
"Bat?"
"I'll explain it more when we get to the field," Billy said, slipping his left hand into a strange leather glove and picking up a heavy white ball with his other hand. With that, they started their trek to the field. Milo asked a few random questions such as how did Billy like Fishkill and Henderson Elementary, but for the most part it was pretty quiet on the way over.
Thoughtfully, Billy asked, "How come you're staying with your grampa, Milo? Are your ma and pa out of town?"
"No, I live with my grandpa! My parents died a long time ago," Milo answered.
"They're dead? That's awful! I don't know what I'd do without Ma and Pa!" Billy gasped.
"Oh, it's not all that bad," Milo said. "Though I do miss them a lot. I barely remember them. They died in a train wreck when I was a toddler. But Grandpa's like a father to me!"
"Oh," Billy said distantly. Then he grinned. "Well, Milo, we're here! Are you ready to learn how to play baseball?"
"Baseball?" Milo asked confusedly.
"Yeah, baseball! The all-American sport!"
As Milo observed, Billy taught him the ins and outs of the newfangled sport. Then the two boys played heartily until well after dusk.
~*~ The next day, Milo headed off to school with a new self
confidence that he had never thought he could possess. He was no longer a loner;
now he could spend recess and lunch playing baseball with his new friend Billy
instead of having to sit alone and defending himself from the bullies.
When he got to school, he noticed that all his classmates were crowded in a corner of the playground. He wandered over to see what the commotion was about. Much to Milo's surprise, Billy was standing glumly in the center of the crowded circle, Barnabas standing nearest to him.
"Hey, Billy! What's- what's going on?" Milo asked. Billy was looking suspiciously at his feet.
"Well, if it isn't little Mr. Orphan! Living with his Grandpa! Doesn't have any parents like WE do! Stuck living with old grandpappy!" Barnabas sneered.
The crowd of children laughed and Billy slunk sadly away. For the rest of the day, everyone avoided Milo like he had a disease, as if having no parents was catching. And Billy just watched silently as Milo was tormented. It was the worst day of Milo's life. He counted the seconds until the final bell rang and he trudged slowly home.
"Hi, son," Grandpa Thatch said affectionately as Milo came in the door. But the little boy just walked droopily past him, up the stairs, and into his bedroom, where he softly began to cry. Thaddeus stuck his head into his grandson's room, eyes filled with concern. "Milo? What's wrong?" he asked.
"Oh, Grandpa, it isn't fair. Why did Mama and Dad have to die?" he sobbed.
Thaddeus frowned deeply. "Milo, I know it isn't fair. Your parents did not deserve to die. They were in the prime of life." He paused pensively. "I know you miss them every day of your life. I most certainly do!" He gazed at the little boy and had a nagging feeling in his stomach. There's more here than meets the eye. "What brought this on, Milo?"
"Oh, Grandpa! All the kids at school are making fun of me because I have no parents! I wish I had an mother and father like everybody else!" Milo wailed.
Grandpa Thatch frowned grimly. "Now Milo, listen to me. I understand how you feel completely. But there are some things we can't change. Now, I have tried my absolute best to raise you properly, and I see you not as some foster child, but as my own son. I had always hoped that you saw me the same way. I know I can't replace your parents, and I would never try. But Milo, I'm all you've got."
Milo sniffled. "I know, Grandpa. And I love you."
~*~ The next day when Milo got to school, he felt a little
better, but not much. His one and only "friend" had betrayed him. He was at the
mercy of the cruel children again.
"Well, if it isn't the orphan again. No friends. No family. Just old gramps," Barnabas teased. It stung Milo like a smack across the face.
"Oh, shut up, Barney!" a voice shouted. Milo gasped. It was Billy!
"What did you call me, farm boy?" Barnabas snarled.
"We're getting sick of putting up with your nonsense, pig-face!" Billy snapped. "Don't make fun of Milo anymore! It isn't his fault that his parents are gone, and he deserves to have friends, not to be made even more alone.
"Hey, Milo, let's play some baseball in the field after school," Billy finished, sticking his hand out in friendship. "You're not alone, and you never will be again."
~*~
1892 A.D.
"Have a good day, son," Thaddeus Thatch said, slapping Milo's cap onto the boy's head, handing him a sacked lunch and ushering him out the door.
"Yeah, sure," Milo replied. Grandpa said that every day before Milo went to school, but it never happened. Milo knew that he never would fit in with his classmates. He was smarter than all of them put together when it cam to books, but he was far too innocent and inexperienced in others to be considered anything more than a dork by the boys in his class. The girls weren't much nicer, either. A good day to Milo was a day that everyone ignored him and left him alone to his fantasies, his dreams of ancient times, when things were far more mystic and much better for a idealist like himself.
Unfortunately, Milo was rarely left in peace at Henderson Elementary School. He usually was too busy defending his life from the likes of Barnabas Jones, the school bully, to fantasize about far off lands like Atlantis.
"Hey, Thatch-head, what's for lunch?" a cruel voice lisped. Milo cringed. It looked like today was going to be no different. He turned to face the round-cheeked, freckle-faced giant that towered over him.
"P-p-peanut butter and banana sandwich, Barnabas," Milo stammered almost inaudibly. "And an apple for a snack."
Barnabas snatched the snack from Milo's small, shaking hand. "Peanut butter and banana, huh? Ya know, Thatch, sweets ain't good for you. I'd better confiscate this. You might get poisoned or somethin'."
"But, Barnabas! My Grandpa made that lunch for me!" Milo protested weakly.
"Yer Grandpa, huh? You a Grandpa's boy? Heh-heh-heh!" Barnabas teased. "Then why don't you go run home a-cryin' to yer Grandpa and have him make you a new one, cuz this one's mine!" Cackling, the little urchin stomped away, leaving a cowering Milo in his wake. Before he left, he spit at the smaller boy through the gap between his teeth.
"Oh, great. Yet another miserable day in my even more miserable life!" Milo cried.
"You know, you really shouldn't let him pick on you like that. That pug-nosed creep is no better than you are," an unfamiliar voice said from behind Milo. Milo turned and saw another little boy about his own age approaching.
"Who are you?" Milo asked uncertainly.
"My name's Billy," the boy said. "My family just moved here from Topeka. That's in Kansas."
"Oh. Hello. My name's Milo," Milo said, still shaken up.
"Do you go to Henderson Elementary?" Billy asked.
"Yes, actually, I do," Milo replied.
"Great! Today is going to be my first day there! I'm in the fifth grade," Billy said proudly. "Will you show me around the school, Milo?"
"Uh, sure!" Milo said excitedly. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all!
Billy nervously took the seat in the double desk adjoining Milo. Across the aisle, unfortunately, was where Barnabas had decided to sit, if only to torment the innocent boys. Today he started in earlier than usual, Milo noted. "Kansas, huh?" Barnabas sneered. "Didja live on a farm?"
Billy's face brightened. "Why, yes, I did live on a farm!"
Barnabas cackled. "Farm boy, huh? So why did ya come to New York, farm boy? Did your hogs leave town? Heh-heh-heh!"
Milo lowered his head. Billy stared at Barnabas in surprise. Farm boy? That was the first time someone had called Billy that and intended it as an insult.
Soon the whole class was snickering under their breaths. The nerd and the farm boy- what a perfect pair of losers! Milo felt awful. His presence was detrimental to Billy's reputation as well as his own! What a way for Billy to start his first day at a new school.
Billy just frowned. This was different than what he had experienced in Kansas. He would have to be quick on his feet in this new place- and his friend Milo had better learn to do the same, or get crushed on the way.
"Well, hello there, son! You must be Milo's little friend Billy. Come right on in." Billy stepped somewhat nervously into the entryway as Thaddeus continued. "I'm Milo's grandfather. Feel free just to call me 'Grandpa Thatch.' Milo's in the parlor."
Milo raced in before Thaddeus finished his sentence. "Hiya, Billy! What do you want to play first?"
"Well, Milo, is it okay if we go to the field around the block? There's a neat game that we like to play out west that I'd love to teach you," Billy suggested.
"Grandpa? Can I go? Can I? Huh? Huh?" Milo exclaimed.
"All right, all right, hold your horses there, son! Of course you can go if you're back before dark," Thaddeus chuckled.
"Yeah! Thanks, Grandpa!" Milo shouted as he and Billy raced out the door. Once outside, Billy handed Milo a curious elongated piece of wood, slightly wider on one end than the other. "What's this?" Milo asked.
"Oh, that's the bat," Billy explained.
"Bat?"
"I'll explain it more when we get to the field," Billy said, slipping his left hand into a strange leather glove and picking up a heavy white ball with his other hand. With that, they started their trek to the field. Milo asked a few random questions such as how did Billy like Fishkill and Henderson Elementary, but for the most part it was pretty quiet on the way over.
Thoughtfully, Billy asked, "How come you're staying with your grampa, Milo? Are your ma and pa out of town?"
"No, I live with my grandpa! My parents died a long time ago," Milo answered.
"They're dead? That's awful! I don't know what I'd do without Ma and Pa!" Billy gasped.
"Oh, it's not all that bad," Milo said. "Though I do miss them a lot. I barely remember them. They died in a train wreck when I was a toddler. But Grandpa's like a father to me!"
"Oh," Billy said distantly. Then he grinned. "Well, Milo, we're here! Are you ready to learn how to play baseball?"
"Baseball?" Milo asked confusedly.
"Yeah, baseball! The all-American sport!"
As Milo observed, Billy taught him the ins and outs of the newfangled sport. Then the two boys played heartily until well after dusk.
When he got to school, he noticed that all his classmates were crowded in a corner of the playground. He wandered over to see what the commotion was about. Much to Milo's surprise, Billy was standing glumly in the center of the crowded circle, Barnabas standing nearest to him.
"Hey, Billy! What's- what's going on?" Milo asked. Billy was looking suspiciously at his feet.
"Well, if it isn't little Mr. Orphan! Living with his Grandpa! Doesn't have any parents like WE do! Stuck living with old grandpappy!" Barnabas sneered.
The crowd of children laughed and Billy slunk sadly away. For the rest of the day, everyone avoided Milo like he had a disease, as if having no parents was catching. And Billy just watched silently as Milo was tormented. It was the worst day of Milo's life. He counted the seconds until the final bell rang and he trudged slowly home.
"Hi, son," Grandpa Thatch said affectionately as Milo came in the door. But the little boy just walked droopily past him, up the stairs, and into his bedroom, where he softly began to cry. Thaddeus stuck his head into his grandson's room, eyes filled with concern. "Milo? What's wrong?" he asked.
"Oh, Grandpa, it isn't fair. Why did Mama and Dad have to die?" he sobbed.
Thaddeus frowned deeply. "Milo, I know it isn't fair. Your parents did not deserve to die. They were in the prime of life." He paused pensively. "I know you miss them every day of your life. I most certainly do!" He gazed at the little boy and had a nagging feeling in his stomach. There's more here than meets the eye. "What brought this on, Milo?"
"Oh, Grandpa! All the kids at school are making fun of me because I have no parents! I wish I had an mother and father like everybody else!" Milo wailed.
Grandpa Thatch frowned grimly. "Now Milo, listen to me. I understand how you feel completely. But there are some things we can't change. Now, I have tried my absolute best to raise you properly, and I see you not as some foster child, but as my own son. I had always hoped that you saw me the same way. I know I can't replace your parents, and I would never try. But Milo, I'm all you've got."
Milo sniffled. "I know, Grandpa. And I love you."
"Well, if it isn't the orphan again. No friends. No family. Just old gramps," Barnabas teased. It stung Milo like a smack across the face.
"Oh, shut up, Barney!" a voice shouted. Milo gasped. It was Billy!
"What did you call me, farm boy?" Barnabas snarled.
"We're getting sick of putting up with your nonsense, pig-face!" Billy snapped. "Don't make fun of Milo anymore! It isn't his fault that his parents are gone, and he deserves to have friends, not to be made even more alone.
"Hey, Milo, let's play some baseball in the field after school," Billy finished, sticking his hand out in friendship. "You're not alone, and you never will be again."