Free Bobby the Brave (Sometimes) by Lisa Yee Page A

after his dad had embarrassed him like that.
    â€œWhere is your father?” Mrs. Ellis-Chan asked.
    â€œMaybe Daddy’s hiding,” Casey said, peeking under the couch.
    Bobby looked around for his dad. He wondered if his father had any clue how hard it was to be the son of a famous ex-football player. It was bad enough being compared to The Freezer all the time, but then to be treated like a helpless little kid was almost more than he could bear. So maybe he wasn’t like Annie, Miss Big Shot Football Star, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t matter. “He’s not like me” echoed in Bobby’s head.
    Bobby gathered his courage. His lungs still hurt slightly, but he wasn’t going to let this stop him. He would confront his father, even if it might be painful. It was time his father knew how he felt.
    After searching the house, Bobby spotted a familiar silhouette in the backyard. In the moonlight he could see his dad with his head bowed, standing near the tree where Rover was buried. Bobby took a deep breath, then marched outside.
    â€œDad?”
    Mr. Ellis-Chan looked up. “Oh, hi, Bobby.”
    â€œCan we talk?” The cold air was bracing and Bobby was feeling brave.
    â€œOf course, but I already know what you’re going to say,” his father said.
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œYes … that I’m a rotten dad.”
    Bobby wasn’t sure he was hearing correctly. He shook his head. “What?”
    â€œI said, ‘I’m a rotten dad,’” Mr. Ellis-Chan repeated.
    â€œNo … I … you’re … what?” Bobby’s brain was on overload. This was not how he thought the conversation would begin.
    â€œThe dog costume,” his father struggled to explain. “I wanted to impress you with my sewing and make you proud of me, but instead it was a disaster. Then, when it triggered your asthma attack, I realized how much I messed up.”
    â€œWell, yeah. But, no … I mean, that wasn’t your fault. Well, it was, and it was bad, and I felt …” Bobby’s words deserted him. He felt like everything was upside down.
    â€œI should have known better,” his dad lamented. “It’s my job to take care of you, not to put you in danger. What kind of father does that?”
    â€œDad,” Bobby tried again. He had to remind himself of what he had wanted to say. “I know you were trying to do a good thing when you made my costume, but when I had my asthma attack, you didn’t think about how it would make me feel if you …”
    Bobby stopped when he saw his father’s face. He was used to his dad looking big and brave and having everything under control — well, except for cooking and cleaning and stuff like that. But here was a dad who looked like he needed some help. Bobby didn’t know if he should confront his father or console him.
    Mr. Ellis-Chan’s eyes met Bobby’s. For a moment, no one spoke. Then Bobby took a deep breath and said, “Dad, you’re doing great.”
    â€œI am?” Mr. Ellis-Chan said, sounding surprised and pleased. “Well, it’s hard. There are no lessons on how to be a dad, unlike football, where they train you. You know, Bobby, I spent practically my whole life focused on becoming a pro football player, and I loved it. But it was scary too. I was traded a couple of times before I landed with the Earthquakes….” Bobby had sort of known about that, but had never given it any thought. His father continued. “I thought I had finally found a home, a team, where I would have been happy to stay forever. Then one day, BAM. I got my knee blown out and it was over. I felt lost.”
    â€œYou felt lost?” Bobby asked. He thought he was the only one in the Ellis-Chan family who ever felt that way.
    â€œSure,” his father said. “I was at the top of my game, then the game was over before I was ready. After