Ch. 1

Sitting at his wooden desk, James finished his last math problem. Most of the kids in his second grade class were finding addition and subtraction with more than two numbers to be a bit tricky, but James found it not just easy, but enjoyable. Then again, James found school in general to be enjoyable, no matter the subject.

There, done. James took a few minutes to check over his work and was satisfied to see his math was correct. The little boy slid his workbook into his backpack along with the rest of his homework. There wasn't much; Thursdays were mostly review days because James's class usually had a test or quiz of Fridays. There would be a spelling test tomorrow for certain- James was already familiar with the words for tomorrow, but he'd gone over them again to be sure- and Ms. Devon sometimes surprised everyone with a quick ten-question math quiz first thing on Friday morning.

Well, he'd be ready if that happened. And anyway, the main homework Mrs. Devon always assigned was thirty minutes of reading a book. For some of the class- James and some of his friends, for example- reading was not so much an assignment it was something they did for fun. But there were others who complained about "having to spend so much time with a boring book."

"You know, if the book is boring, they can choose something else," James had once remarked to his friend Tessa.

"I know. And Ms. Devon said if we read in class, it counts toward homework."

Well, James had already read more than enough to count toward homework, but he'd checked out a new book from the school library today and so far it was good. Standing up from his desk, James paused by his bed to look out his bedroom window. Although it was just after 6 o'clock, the sky had been dark for nearly two hours now. Despite the snow that covered Central Park, no one was outside walking or enjoying the February evening. James wasn't surprised though; the winter had been especially cold and the snow was too frozen to properly play in. Recess during the school day was bad enough, but at least he and his friend could run around and play games to take their minds off the cold. Still, going back into the classroom was usually a relief and much as he loved playing outside, James was happy to stay inside once it got cold and dark.

At least he had the choice to do so now. James shivered as he remembered the previous winter when he'd still been living with Spiker and Sponge. Cold and dark hadn't mattered to them; they had kept James outside for as long as they'd deemed necessary until he'd finished whatever chores they'd assigned him. Chopping wood in the freezing temperatures had been horrible, but trying to shovel icy snow without a coat, hat or gloves was worse, especially if it got dark before he'd finished. The only good thing about all the forced labor he'd had to do was that he hadn't gotten sick, but he'd still been so cold by the time he was allowed to go to bed and his room hadn't been much of a relief. The single woolen blanket his aunts had given him hadn't offered much in the way of warmth and James had often fallen asleep with his stomach growling and doing his best to ignore the cold jets of icy air that blew through his wooden window shutter.

Well, all that was behind him now. James tore his eyes away from the window to glance around his current bedroom. Despite being painted white, the walls still retained the texture of the peach pit and the wooden floor was covered with a thick blue rug. Unlike the creaky iron bed with its lumpy mattress and threadbare blanket at Spiker and Sponge's house, James's current bedframe was carved from mahogany and the mattress was the perfect balance of firm and soft. His pillows, covered with blue pillow cases, were like fluffy clouds and his blankets and comforter never allowed cold air to bother James at bedtime. Aside from his white wooden desk where he did his homework, James's room also boasted an oaken bookshelf (organized, but well-stocked) and a decent-sized chest where James kept his favorite toys. A closet had been built into the far wall and next to it was a chest of drawers. While Mrs. Ladybug or Miss Spider usually handled the laundry and vacuuming, James always made sure that his room was clean and his things were put away. The single lamp on his bedside table filled James's room with a cozy warm glow and the little boy sighed with contentment as he sat down on his bed and flipped his book open.

From downstairs, James could hear the familiar sounds of his family talking. While he could also hear the occasional rattle of a pot or pan hinting that dinner preparations were underway, it was the ongoing murmur of conversation that made James turn his attention away from his book. For the past few days, his family had been talking amongst themselves about something or another, but those conversations always stopped once James was around. Yet the little boy had heard enough to know that everyone had planned to be home early tonight for "a final discussion;" as such, James was willing to bet that if his family was going to tell him what was going on, it would probably be tonight. Still, even as he looked back down at his book, the familiar voices floated upstairs to reach his ears.

"Any word on how long it's gonna be?" That was Centipede's voice.

"From what we can tell, she's going to need to stay in hospital for a least a week," Mrs. Ladybug answered. "But depending on the tests..."

Hospital? Who was in the hospital?

A bit of soft murmuring, then Mr. Grasshopper spoke up.

"Quite frankly, it seems to be the best possible solution. He won't have to change schools and we're close enough that the two can visit. And, of course, we have the room."

"But will he want to stay with us?" asked Earthworm's nervous voice. "We're strangers to him."

"Just like anyone else he'd stay with," Centipede shot back.

"Well... I guess..." Earthworm's voice dropped, but James had a feeling he was still listing off any possible issues concerning the mystery subject.

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Earthworm," Mr. Grasshopper said, the sigh in his voice confirmation enough that he had heard Earthworm's worries several times over.

"Of course it will be." Miss Spider sounded completely at ease, which made James smile. "And it is something good we can do, is it not?"

"It certainly is," Mrs. Ladybug answered. "Goodness knows they've both been through enough."

"Yes, and..." The sound of the electric mixer cut off Miss Spider's voice. James turned his attention back to his book, knowing that it wouldn't be long before he was called downstairs. The whir of the mixer meant mashed potatoes as a side dish and they were always prepared roughly five to ten minutes before everyone sat down to eat. While that would normally mean James could read a chapter (or two) before dinnertime, James found his mind was more invested in his family's conversation than the words on the page.

So, someone- a boy, from the sound of it- was probably coming to stay with them because someone else was in hospital. And from what Mr. Grasshopper had said, this mystery boy went to James's school and wouldn't have to go to a different school if he came to stay at the Peach Pit House. But who was it? No one in James's class mentioned having a relative who was sick or hurt and he didn't really know any of the older or younger kids in his school. As such, James wasn't sure just who would be coming to stay with him and his family, but he did agree with Miss Spider that it would be a good thing.

Outside, a cold wind made a few tree branches rattle against his window and James looked up to see them waving against the dark sky. James shivered; was the boy who would be staying with them okay? Was he somewhere warm and safe, even though his family member was in the hospital and couldn't be with him? James hoped so; he hated to think anyone had to be stuck somewhere cold and dark with no one to take care of them. And if James and his family could help someone who might not be lucky enough to have magic crocodile tongues help him out of a bad situation, then James was happy to help.

"James," Miss Spider's soft voice called from the top of the stairs. "Come, my James; time for dinner."

"Coming!"

James closed his book and left his room, stopping in the bathroom to wash up. Despite the house's heat, James didn't think he would ever get tired of how good warm water felt on his hands and face when it was cold outside or how wonderful it was to enjoy a delicious dinner in the company of a family who loved him so much. And from the sound of it, he would get to share that feeling with someone else soon.
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"So, yeah, now I get to deal with that tomorrow." Centipede rolled his eyes as he stabbed a piece of roast beef a tad harder than necessary.

"Why do they want to buy both the buildings?"

"I dunno, kid. They're both dumps; good for nothing unless they wanna knock 'em down and start from scratch. But these people? Nah, they want them as is."

"I must say that sounds more than a little suspicious, Centipede," Mr. Grasshopper said. "Perhaps you should consider having these buyers investigated."

"Already bein' done, both through the police and private investigators. Should have somethin' to go on by Monday, but I still gotta sit through a meetin' where they try to convince the zonin' board that they're not tryin' to pull a fast one."

"Humph, just watch out they don't get suspicious; who knows what desperate men will do? Why, imagine if-"

"I think we get your point, Earthworm," Mrs. Ladybug sighed. "But I'm sure it'll work out for everyone, wouldn't you agree, Centipede?"

"Course it will. This ain't my first rodeo. I can handle myself. Right, Jimmy-boy?" Centipede grinned at James.

"Right."

"See? I'm good."

"Of course you are, Commodore." Miss Spider shook her head, but smiled nonetheless.

"Still, I-" Earthworm's newest reason to panic was swiftly cut off by Mrs. Ladybug.

"James dear, do you know of a boy named Dylan Anderson?"

James paused, swallowing his bite of mashed potatoes as he considered the question, then shook his head.

"No, I don't think so."

"I didn't think you would," Mrs. Ladybug replied. "He goes to your school, but he's nine and in the third grade."

"Wait, he's nine?" Centipede frowned. "Wouldn't he be eight if he's in the grade above Jimmy's?"

"Maybe he just turned nine," James said. "A few of the kids in my class are already eight."

"A good point, my boy. Is that the case with young Dylan, Mrs. Ladybug?" Mr. Grasshopper asked.

"I can't say for certain; only what I was told by his case worker."

"Case worker?" James asked, feeling a flutter in his stomach. While the time between his parents' deaths and being sent to Spiker and Sponge had been brief, the little boy remembered all too well having to talk with various adults with various titles, all of them pertaining to what was to happen to him after his mother and father died. At the time, he had been too upset to really think about what they were telling him, but James did remember they had been more interested in him answering questions as quickly as possible than in offering him any kind words. The title of "case worker" had applied to several of those adults and James couldn't remember a single good thing about any of them.

"Dylan lives with his grandmother and sadly, she needs to stay in the hospital for at least a week," Mrs. Ladybug was saying now. "Because of that, he needs somewhere to stay and thankfully, the hospital has a group of people who help children just like him and they're quite kind."

Oh, well, that was good to hear. While James didn't know Dylan, he didn't want to think another boy was going through what he had experienced. "Can we help him too?" James asked now.

"Actually, that's what we've been discussing for the past few days," Mr. Grasshopper said. "And we think we can."

"The hospital case worker mentioned Dylan's case to me because of the fact that he goes to your school, James," Mrs. Ladybug explained. "Dylan had a neighbor looking after him for an hour or two every day, but the neighbor can't look after him properly for long periods."

"So then, can he stay with us?"

"That's what we were thinkin' kid."

"I take it you are in agreement, James?" Miss Spider asked with a smile.

"Yes. I want to help Dylan if I can."

"Well then, James, if it's alright with you, then I see no reason why we shouldn't help this young lad." Mr. Grasshopper gave James a proud smile of his own. "And I must say that, when it comes to helping children, we've been extraordinarily lucky."

"That we have," Miss Spider agreed. "And now we can help another boy who needs us."

"Yeah, but he ain't gonna hold a candle to our boy."

"Centipede!"

"What? It's true!"

"When is Dylan coming to stay?" James asked.

"I'll be speaking to the case worker tomorrow and he'll probably come over early Sunday afternoon after he visits with his grandmother."

"Then, I'll have time to show him the best places to play in the park, right?"

"Hey, great idea, Jimmy. Bet he'd love to see that."

"From the sound of it, Dylan could certainly use a friend," Miss Spider noted. "And I can think of no one better than you, James."

"And I'll introduce him to my friends too."

"That's kind of you, James dear. That may just be what Dylan needs after all he's going through."

"And if there's anyone who can help someone feel better, it's you, James," Earthworm added. "I just hope this Dylan won't feel too out of place with us."

"Aw, c'mon, the kid just needs a little help," Centipede said, gulping down his last piece of roast beef. "It'll be fine."

James nodded, finishing his own dinner. Already, his mind was in a whirl of excitement over the new and he couldn't wait to meet Dylan. While he was glad that Dylan wasn't in as bad a situation as James had once been, James was certain Dylan was probably missing his grandmother. Well, he knew what it was like to miss someone and James was determined to do whatever he could to help his new friend.

And even if Dylan was only staying for a week or so, there was no reason they couldn't continue being friends when Dylan went home, right?