Brendan Buckley's Sixth-Grade Experiment

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Authors: Sundee T. Frazier
forever, waiting for my body to hit the packed dirt. Instead, the ground squished. A funky smell filled my nostrils. I laid my head on the ground and moaned. The fresh cow pie under my hip was still warm from the oven.
    Dad sprinted past.
    â€œYou all right, there?” Grandpa Ed pulled me to my feet.
    I nodded. My butt hurt, and I was hot from embarrassment, but other than that I was fine. My
do bok
, on the other hand … I twisted my head, trying to get a look at the damage.
    â€œThat’s quite a tire tread you got there.”
    I groaned. “Dad’s going to kill me.”
    â€œExcuse me.” A woman with a shovel moved in. “We need to get this up before anyone else steps in it. Or what’s left of it, anyways.” She glanced at my behind. “There’s a men’s restroom right over there.” She pointed past a Dumpster labeled DOO-DOO ONLY .
    â€œCan you wait just a second?” I asked the lady. “I can help you with that.” Grandpa Ed had picked up my duffel bag. I zipped it open and pulled out Mom’s Tupperware container and gardening spade.
    â€œIt’s certainly fresh,” Grandpa Ed said. “I think I see some steam coming off it.”
    I scooped up a shovelful, plopped it into the container, and snapped on the lid. The woman looked at me like I was nuts. “I’m not even going to ask,” she said. “All done?”
    â€œYes, ma’am. Thank you.” I wrapped the little shovel in the old towel I’d brought and dropped everything back into the bag.
    â€œWe’d better get you cleaned up,” Grandpa Ed said. We walked toward the bathroom. When we passed the area behind Dumbo’s Jumbos, two uniformed security officers held the boy by his arms. Dad was there, too, holding Gladys’s straw bag. He glanced our way. I hurried into the bathroom.
    After I’d used up almost a whole roll of wet paper towels on my
do bok
, and then taken care of some of myown business, we came out. On my backside was a large light brown stain shaped like Australia. The rest of my family waited near the restroom exit. Gladys had her bag securely over her arm. She munched on a Krusty Pup corn dog.
    â€œAre you all right?” Mom asked. “Gladys said you fell pretty hard.”
    â€œNot before he diverted the juvenile delinquent right into the hands of the authorities. Opening the pigpen for kicks, then running off with my bag.” Gladys scowled. “What’s wrong with people?”
    â€œWell, all’s well that ends well, I guess,” Mom said. “Did you get what you came for?”
    â€œMission accomplished.” I grinned, then got serious when I saw Dad’s face. He eyed the stain. His mouth pulled to one side.
    Gladys linked her free arm with mine. “You’re my hero, Milk Chocolate!” She got a glimmer in her eye. “Speaking of chocolate, let’s go get some of that delicious ice cream from Lulu’s.”
    â€œYou’re going to be sorry, Mama,” Dad said. “The way you’re eating.”
    Gladys patted her bag. “Thanks to my grandson, I’ve still got my Rolaids. Pop a few of those pep pills, and I’ll be good to go.” Gladys’s nose wrinkled as she unlinked her arm. “I love you, kid, but for now, I think I’ll keep my distance.”
    â€œWe need to go,” Dad said. “Master Rickman was expecting Brendan five minutes ago.”
    When we arrived at the stage, Morgan came up behind me. “Hi, Brendan!”
    I turned quickly, feeling suddenly very warm in my poop-stained uniform.
    â€œDid you get the manure?”
    â€œYeah, no problem.” I tugged on my damp, smelly
do bok
and glanced around. Did she have to talk so loud?
    â€œI wish my mom were here to see you perform,” Morgan said. “She’s out on the research vessel this weekend.”
    â€œThat’s all right,” I said, relieved

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