Free This Journal Belongs to Ratchet by Nancy J. Cavanaugh Page A

sang the chorus of “Hang on Sloopy” into the end of a wrench.
    I tapped out the beat with a screwdriver and some pliers.
    And we both laughed.
    I knew Hunter had lots of friends and probably goofed around like this all the time, but for me, this moment was a dream come true.
    We finally got Hunter’s small engine running. It was the kind of thing Dad and I did every day; but for Hunter, this was his dream come true.

WRITING EXERCISE: Write a memo to a group of people you know.
    Writing Format —MEMO: A brief written message that asks and answers questions, gives instructions, describes work done, and reminds people about deadlines and meetings.
    A few days later, Dad reviewed the safety rules again , and then he handed out this memo.
    Note: Since Dad still can’t use his hand to write, he told me what to write for this memo. So technically, I’m cheating. I think the word is “plagiarism.” But I’m sure, if by chance, Dad actually reads this, he won’t care.
    Day: Saturday
    To: Go-Cart Class
    From: Mr. Vance/aka Raccoon Dog
    Subject: Engine Test Next Saturday
    1. You must know:
    * Safety rules
    * Names of tools
    * How to use them
    * Names of engine parts
    * How to take engine apart
    * How to put engine back together
    2. Ratchet and I have taught it. You’ve practiced it. Now we test it. And, hopefully, you prove it.
    3. You pass the test: We all go to the junkyard to find parts. You build your car. And race at Moss Tree Park.
    4. You don’t pass the test: No trip to the junkyard. No building a car. No race at Moss Tree Park.
    5. Today we’re going on a field trip to Moss Tree Park. In order to have the race, we have to save the park. If we keep the park clean, we have more chance of saving it. Fill up one plastic bag with garbage, then go home and study.

WRITING EXERCISE: Life Events Journal
    Dad handed out the engine test memo. The boys complained about picking up trash. Then moaned and groaned “pretending” to be worried about the test, but Hunter freaked out. He was NOT pretending. He said he’ll NEVER be able to pass the test. The worst part is he’s probably right. He still doesn’t know a crankshaft from a piston. And I keep wondering, How can that be?
    How in the world will he ever pass the test?

WRITING EXERCISE: Poetry
    Scattered among the leaves and twigs,
    Resting in the grass and moss,
    Lazy people’s trash.
    Plastic bottles, empty bags,
    Straws, and tin cans.
    Rowdy boys
    And one quiet girl
    Fill up plastic bags.
    But the girl finds
    Something else left behind
    From a long time ago
    In the bark of a tree.
    Carved letters leave
    A mark of love.
    Just one more reason
    This park and these trees
    Should be saved.

WRITING EXERCISE: Life Events Journal
    Today Dad sent me up to Gas Gulp to fill up our gasoline container. He needed it to test an old riding mower someone had dropped off for him to fix.
    He wasn’t supposed to be working in the garage yet, but he said, “You know what they say — idle hands means an idle mind, and the Good Lord gave me too many brains for that.”
    I was thinking the Good Lord should’ve given Dad the brains to listen to the doctor.
    Marty, the owner of Gas Gulp, really wasn’t supposed to sell gas to a kid, but Dad had fixed his car for free a bunch of times, so Marty would’ve even delivered the gas to our house if Dad wanted him to.
    I liked running errands for Dad because it got me out of the garage, but my timing was really bad. I was filling up the container when Hunter and Evan showed up on their bikes. Probably to buy candy. Marty sold candy bars real cheap, to drum up more business.
    He always said, “The way to a man’s wallet is through his gas tank. The way to get him to fill up that tank at your station? Give him a reason to stop. Candy bars are a good reason, and cheap ones are an even better one.”
    That’s why Gas Gulp was always more crowded than