Free The Boy on the Porch by Sharon Creech Page A

they’ll stop being scared? Why are they scared? What should we be doing?”
    â€œâ€™Night, John.”
    By the second week, John and Marta had learned that a pile of old lumber, a hammer, and some nails were a good outlet for the children’s aggression.
    â€œWhat are they making, John?”
    â€œI think it’s a fort.”
    â€œThey sure like to hammer things.”
    â€œJacob didn’t hammer. He made music out of everything.”
    By the third week, Tyler and Zizi were speaking to John and Marta.
    â€œTheir language!” John said. “Did you hear what she called her teacher? Where did they learn words like that?”
    â€œNow you want them to stop talking?”
    â€œI was just used to Jacob, that’s all. I mean he was so . . . so different . . . from Tyler and Zizi.”
    â€œI guess every kid is different.”
    It was the goats that finally softened the children. The goats nuzzled Tyler and Zizi and chased them and butted into them. Round and round the pasture the children ran, shrieking with laughter. Early each morning before the school bus stopped at the end of the drive, Tyler and Zizi ran to the barn and fed the goats. Each afternoon, when they returned from school, they raced up to see the goats.
    One night at dinner, Tyler said, “It’s okay here.”
    â€œYeah,” Zizi agreed. “It’s okay.”
    John looked at Marta. “Is that a compliment, do you think?”
    At the general store, Shep said, “I see you’re buying jelly beans again. That kid come back?”
    John felt stabbing heartache. He’d thought maybe he would think about Jacob less with other kids around, but he was thinking about Jacob more . He remembered every little gesture, every touch, every look on Jacob’s face. When they took Tyler and Zizi to get new shoes and clothes, he remembered taking Jacob to the same stores and how proud the boy had seemed with his new shoes.
    â€œNo,” he replied to Shep. “These jelly beans are for different kids. We’re fostering them.”
    â€œIs that right?”
    John spotted a roll of tar paper. That would be perfect for the kids’ fort , he thought. “I’ll trade you this here belt for that roll of tar paper,” he said.
    â€œYou’re going to run out of belts pretty soon, ain’t ya?”
    John and Marta stood at the fence watching Zizi wrap her arms around a goat’s neck.
    â€œYou cutie,” Zizi sang to the goat. “You cutie dootie.”
    â€œYou hear that?” John said to Marta. “I think Zizi is turning soft.”
    â€œMaybe,” Marta said. “Of course this morning, she stomped a caterpillar to bits and called it a creepy turd .”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œShe’s a funny kid, that Zizi is.”
    They could hear Tyler hammering on the fort on the far side of the barn.
    â€œDid you hear what Tyler called you last night, John? He called you Good Pa.”
    â€œIs that what he said? I thought he called me Goo-bah. I thought it was an insult.”
    â€œWho’d ever guess kids could make you laugh so much?”
    â€œJacob made us laugh.”
    â€œSure, he did, but I didn’t think all kids could make you laugh.”
    â€œMarta, we haven’t seen all kids yet.”
    Tyler and Zizi left one day in the late spring. They’d all known this day would come, but that didn’t make it any easier.
    â€œYou can visit us any time you want,” Marta reassured them.
    â€œYou can write to us, too. We’d like that,” John said. “And come visit the goats. They’ll miss you.”
    â€œSo will we,” Marta said.
    That night, Marta said, “I guess I’m always going to cry when a child leaves.”
    â€œDo you think we shouldn’t have any more kids here? Do you think we should think about this some more? Are we always going to feel so awful when they