Free A Horse Called El Dorado by Kevin Kiely Page B

pension.’ Grandad reached into his tattered coat, took out his wallet and handed me a fifty-euro note. Wow! It was more money than I had ever had in my life.
    ‘Yes, you deserve it,’ Grandma nodded. ‘Jack, why don’t you help him e-mail his parents.’
    Grandad wrote the e-mails for me, one for Mama and one for my wandering papa. I typed in my name and clicked on ‘Send all’. Grandad said he would teach me more stuff on the computer and get some games for me.
    Up in my bedroom I went through what remained of my father’s toys and looked at the pictures in his story-books . There was one of a cowboy on a horse with a guitar! Finally, I tried to read the Dandy , staring hard at the words, but I only got frustrated. Suddenly I heard them on the creaky stairs.
    ‘Oh, I’d say he’s fast asleep,’ I heard Grandad say. ‘If you look in on him it might wake him up. Poor auld soldier.’
    ‘You’re right,’ said Grandma. ‘Well, I’ll phone the school tomorrow. It’s a pity we couldn’t get him in locally, but the classes are all overcrowded. The school in Angerstown will be fine, though. Besides its only fifteen kilometres, twice a day. Do you think we can manage him here for the year, since his mother asked us?’
    ‘It’s only a year,’ said Grandad.
    ‘I know, but we reared our children long ago, andeven one turns us back into parents all over again,’ muttered Grandma, puffing as she got to the top of the stairs.
    I quickly put my light out and crept into bed. A year? What year? My mother was dumping me in Ireland for a whole year! I thought I was staying in Fordstown for a few weeks, and then going back to Mama after seeing my papa for a while. What was happening? Would anyone tell me? I began to feel helpless, lonely and upset. I cursed my papa and mama. But I would not cry. I would ask my grandparents about it in the morning. I wished for sleep to come, and eventually it did.

Chapter 16
    I was grumpy the next morning at breakfast. It was Grandma’s ‘special’ – porridge with a sprinkling of flax, sunflower, sesame and hazelnuts that she reduced to powder in a coffee grinder. Their milk was unsweetened soya. There was no sugar in the house.
    Grandad came in from the yard dressed in his fishing hat, dungarees and boots, and carrying a handful of eggs. ‘I couldn’t resist when I saw the loaf of brown bread you made, with a hump on it like a railway bridge,’ he said to Grandma. ‘How’s our little man?’ He looked at me.
    ‘I am feeling grumpy,’ I piped up.
    ‘Oh, why, Pepe?’ They both stopped and stared at me.
    ‘Oh, nothing,’ I muttered, spooning my porridge into me, secretly enjoying keeping them in suspense.
    ‘Come on. Out with it, soldier,’ Grandad said, sitting down in front of a huge bowl of porridge and tapping his spoon into the palm of one hand.
    ‘I am afraid to go to school, and …’ My voice gave out.
    ‘And?’ Grandma coaxed gently.
    ‘How long will I stay in …’ Suddenly I felt I couldn’t say, ‘How long will I stay with you?’ so I said, ‘How longwill I stay in school?’
    They were very good about everything, and made me feel able to talk about my problems. They fully understood that I was missing my mama and papa. I must talk about it any time I felt lonely, they said. That made me feel better. And I could send e-mails whenever I wanted to.
    Grandad was less strict about my going to school – he thought Grandma could teach me – but Grandma thought I should give it a try. ‘Besides,’ Grandad said, ‘there’s plenty to do around here. You can earn pocket money helping with the business.’ He always called it ‘the business’, and answered his phone, ‘Fordstown Organic Growers, Jack Carroll, can we help you?’ Grandma thought it was a bit ridiculous and often called us from the fields, ‘Will the Fordstown Organic Growers come in for their supper!’ If she needed something picked from the polytunnel, she would call out, ‘I have