using these,â said Pa, rotating the cards again.
âDo you want to play inside or out?â Spoon asked.
âOh, inside,â Pa answered, squinting. âItâs pretty darn bright out here. Almost too bright.â He smiled, rose, and walked to the front door.
Spoon grabbed his book and glass of water. He knew he would tell Pa about the sign before Pa went home. After all, what good was a secret if you didnât share it with someone?
Spoon took a sip of water. It was tepid now. Before he entered the shadowy house, he tossed the water that remained in his glass out over the porch railing onto the lawn. The water made a perfect arc. And for an instant, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a faint rainbow reaching up, up toward the sun.
Read on for a preview of The Year of Billy Miller , on sale September 2013
It was the first day of second grade and Billy Miller was worried. He was worried that he wouldnât be smart enough for school this year.
There was a reason he was worried. Two weeks earlier on their drive home from visiting Mount Rushmore and the Black Hills of South Dakota, Billy Miller and his family stopped in Blue Earth, Minnesota, to see the statue of the Jolly Green Giant. Billy instantly recognized the Giant from the labels of canned and frozen vegetables. The statue was spectacularâso tall, and the greenest green Billy had ever seen.
Billy was wearing his new baseball cap that said BLACK HILLS in glossy silver embroidery. It was a blustery day. The flag on the nearby pole snapped in the wind. Billy raced ahead of his familyâup the steps to the lookout platform. As he stood between the Giantâs enormous feet, a sudden gust lifted his cap from his head. His cap sailed away. Without thinking, Billy stepped onto the middle rung of the guardrail, leaned over, and reached as far as he could. He fell to the pavement below.
The next thing Billy remembered was waking up in a hospital. His parents, whom he called Mama and Papa, were with him, as was his three-year-old sister, Sally, whom everyone called Sal.
After tests were done, the doctor proclaimed Billy miraculously unharmed, except for a lump on his head. âYou fell exactly the right way to protect yourself,â the doctor told him. âYouâre a lucky young man.â
âAnd Papa got your hat back!â said Sal.
When they returned home, Billy proudly showed his lumpâand his capâto his best friend, Ned. He called his grandmother on the phone and told her about the incident, too. Everything seemed all right until a few nights later when Billy overheard his parents talking in the kitchen.
âIâm worried about him,â said Mama.
âHeâs fine,â said Papa. âEveryone said heâs fine. And he seems fine. He is fine.â
âYouâre probably right,â said Mama. âBut I worry that down the line something will show up. Heâll start forgetting things.â
âHe already forgets things,â said Papa. âHeâs a seven-year-old boy.â
âYou know what I mean,â said Mama. She paused. âOr heâll be confused at school. Or . . .â
Thatâs all Billy heard. He snuck up to his room and closed the door. And thatâs when he started to worry.
Billy didnât tell anyone that he was worried. Sometimes, he didnât know how to say what he was thinking. He had words in his head, but they didnât always make it to his mouth. This happened often, even before the fall.
âHappy first day of school,â said Mama.
âHappy first day of school,â said Papa.
Billy had noticed long ago that one of his parents often repeated what the other said.
Without taking the time to sit at the table, Mama rushed about the kitchen, stealing a few bites of Papaâs toast and a gulp of his coffee. She hoisted her big canvas bag onto the counter and reorganized its contents.
It was Mamaâs first