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Walter, Whatever Will Be, Will Be -  Greg Bulla

Walter, Whatever Will Be, Will Be (eBook)

(Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB
2024 | 1. Auflage
184 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-8435-4 (ISBN)
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Step back into 1976 with Walter, a creative seven-year old, and his friends, Johnny and Tommy. As summer vacation comes to an end, the boys look ahead to second grade not sure about what's to come. Even though don't know what the new school year has in store for them, they still plan to do something fun together. Walter's story is all about being a kid, having fun, and making memories with friends that last a lifetime.

Greg Bulla is a writer based in North Carolina. Born and raised in the Tarheel state, he is an alum of UNC-Chapel Hill and currently resides in the Piedmont Triad with his family. When he isn't writing or rooting for his beloved Tarheels, he enjoys listening to music, reading, and classic movies.
It's 1976 and Walter, along with his buddies, Johnny and Tommy, have spent their summer vacation riding bikes, playing in the woods, and enjoying their last few weeks before the start of second grade and a new school year. The boys have been friends since they started school, but will they even be in the same class this year? What's gonna change for them? Walter doesn't have the answers but decides they need a plan to do something fun. As the school year begins, a certain classmate gets Walter's attention and she may just like him too. She makes him feel some kind of mix of nerves and excitement that he can't explain. Adding to this, when Walter's friend Tommy starts talking about being a "e;rock star"e; after getting a book about Elvis at the book fair, Walter comes up with a plan to do a show for the whole school . . him, Tommy, and Johnny. With this girl in his class on his mind, a show to plan, and just being a kid, Walter finds himself to be a "e;busy man"e;. Amidst all the chaos and fun, Walter and his friends still have time to laugh, play, and make memories throughout the school year. And Walter learns a little about dealing with these new feelings he has, too. Join Walter, Johnny, and Tommy on a nostalgic journey where every day is a new adventure. Perfect for readers who cherish the magic of youth, this heartwarming tale captures the essence of being a kid in a simpler time and the memories that last a lifetime.

Chapter 1

 

Ringggggg, Ringggggg, Ringggggg!

 

The 6am alarm from my Spiderman clock blasts and I’m yanked right out of a good sleep. I sit straight up in bed, lookin’ right at the Spiderman poster on my wall.

 

Kinda like Spiderman is tellin’ me to get up, too.

 

“Iss too early and my spider senses ain’t even ready yet, man”.

 

I roll out of bed and walk over to my calendar. Two steps away from my bed and off the little rug next to it and my feet freeze on the wood floor.

 

Or hardwood lamitate … lamatade … somethin’ Momma called it?

 

I call it wood.

 

“August 23, 1976 already? Summer already gone! Dang!.”

 

First day of school … second grade.

 

Momma and Daddy ain’t been helpin’ none by reminding me since July that it was “almost time to go back”. I don’t want to think about that in the summertime. I got my mind on fishin’ and ridin’ bikes. Couldn’t even get through the July 4th cookout without them calling it a “last hurrah”.

 

I look around my room, with light blue walls. One window looks out to the neighbor’s house and one at the apple tree in the back yard. Momma always fussin’ about how I need to open the curtains on that one to let in “natural light”, ‘cause I can’t be livin’ in the dark.

 

I have a light and a lamp in my room for that.

 

I don’t won’t folks knowin’ my business, either. Last time I said that to Momma, she told me I could start paying the “natural power bill”. I can’t do that, ‘cause I ain’t got that much in my giant Spiderman bank.

 

I gotta dig today’s outfit outta the closet. My closet door is this wood-lookin’ thing that looks like a doorway to the sky, ‘cause of the blue walls on both sides. I got my new KISS “Spirit of ‘76” poster I have hangin’ on it. Just got it from “Frankie’s Record Shop” this summer, when Daddy took me there to buy me my first KISS record, “Destroyer”.

 

I’m thinking they probably don’t have to get up this early since they are “rock stars”. So maybe if I learn guitar, I can sleep past 8am all the time.

 

I gotta thank my friend Mark for gettin’ me started with KISS. He’s an older kid in the neighborhood, already in 4th grade. So he knows things. I saw his KISS posters in his room and had to ask Who is that? and What do they do?

 

He played their records for me and then I was hooked. I been singin’ “Detroit Rock City” all the time since then. I kept asking, or pestered as Daddy put it, to go to the record store to buy one of their records, ‘til Daddy finally took me.

 

And my allowance money was gone.

 

“Walter James, are you even moving in there? I heard your clock.”, Momma hollered.

 

That thing is so loud, I bet the neighbors heard it, too! Good grief.

 

Her voice snaps me back into the moment. She’s already gettin’ after me and I ain’t hardly opened my eyes this morning. Just because it’s the first day of school. I mean, it ain’t like it’s my “first” first day of school.

 

I’m a second - grader now. I know what I’m doing. She ain’t convinced.

 

Momma steps into my room, hands on her hips with that look.

 

“Walter, I don’t see any clothes laid out. What shoes you gonna wear? Was I wasting my breath last night telling you to do this?”

 

Not sure what I’m supposed to say here, but what comes out is …

 

“Momma, they’re in there”, pointing to the closet. “I can just grab one of those pairs of pants you made me try on. I got my t-shirts in there, too.”

 

That’s about all that I get out before her stare lets me know that was the wroooong answer.

 

But, I do got my set of new school clothes … hangin’ in the closet. I got all my pants hangin’ on the pants rack. All my shirts have buttons on ‘em on the shirt rack. My favorite shirts, my t-shirts, are in my chester drawers, with my socks and stuff.

 

And all my shoes … are on the shoe shelf.

 

Just got a new pair of Nike’s when we went school shoppin’ this summer … ‘cause it’s for real that the swoosh stripe on the side makes you run faster. One of the third grade boys last year won the 50 yard dash on field day and he was wearing Nike’s.

 

The other boys were wearing like Converse or Ked’s or some other kind of shoe.

 

I ain’t gettin’ caught playin’ “Duck, Duck, Goose” in recess because I got slow shoes on.

 

But back to Momma and her fussin’. My school bag is packed already.

 

“Good grief, Momma. Why don’t I just camp out there?”, I asked.

I didn’t like the way her face looked after I said that, either.

 

“Say that one more time and you just might be!” she said.

 

Oops.

 

I wonder if this is why Daddy tells me sometimes that I’m “living on borrowed time”, ‘cause I push it with Momma. Last time I heard Momma fussin’ at him about something, I asked if he was on “borrowed time” too and when do you have to pay that back.

 

He gave me a look, shook his head and walked off.

 

Daddy and I have played this game, of seeing who could get dressed the fastest on school mornings, since I was in kindergarten. I been winnin’ most of ‘em, but he gets lucky. Probably sleeps in some of his work clothes, but I ain’t been able to prove it.

 

I’m going through my new clothes, trying to pick out the best outfit and I hear Daddy.

 

“Walter, I’m almost done gettin’ dressed. You better hurry.”

 

He’s startin’ already.

 

I grab a pair ‘a shorts and throw ‘em on. Now, what shirt? Spiderman tshirt or Incredible Hulk ringer-tshirt? Hulk didn’t wake me up this morning. Hulk shirt it is. Socks on, grab my Nike shoes and put ‘em on and fly into the kitchen.

 

“I’m done. I gotcha, Daddy”. See, fast Nike shoes.

 

“You got lucky, boy”, Daddy said, laughing. “I don’t know how you even found your shoes in that closet of yours.”

 

“It’s organized. And I’m just fast,” I say as I’m chuckling going up the hall.

 

“Then be fast and get in here and eat your breakfast,” Momma jumps in.

 

She’s standing there in the kitchen next to the ‘frigerator, lookin’ at me and Daddy like we’re both crazy. The ‘frigerator reminds me of green peas every time I look at it, too.

 

I sit down at the table, with a bowl of cornflakes in front of me. Daddy calls it the breakfast of champions. He didn’t say of what, though. ‘Course he told me since I could remember that coffee puts hair on my chest, but I’ve been drinking his coffee since before kindergarten and ain’t seen no hair on my chest yet.

 

“Walter, let’s go. I gotta get you to school and get to work myself”.

 

“Momma, good grief. We DID go through open house yesterday to get all of “my business” sorted out, like you said. Why do I gotta rush?”

 

There’s the look again. More “borrowed time”?

 

“ ‘Cause I said so”

 

Since I can remember, those words have ended so many talks between Momma and me. I know better than to keep goin’ after that. Doesn’t mean I don’t try sometimes and wish I didn’t. But anyway.

 

All dressed, school bag on my shoulder me and we step out on the concrete front porch of 1430 Woodbridge Rd, our house. There’s barely enough space for all three of us to be on it at the same time, so I go on down the steps to the car, to make room.

 

I see my buddy Johnny gettin’ into the car with his momma. He’s only three houses down from me. I can hear his Momma fussin’ at him, asking does he have this, does he have that. He ain’t late for nothing and don’t forget much, but his momma sure does stay on him, though. He don’t even get to go to the counter and pick his Funmeal at Burger Chef by himself … at least that’s what he told me.

 

But he’s one of my best friends. Known him since kindergarten. Johnny has also … how did Momma put it? … “saved my butt from the fire”, by talkin’ sense into me when I get into the weeds, as she calls it. She calls him a “voice of reason”. She’s usually ok with me doing anything, if Johnny is involved.

 

“You best listen to Johnny, Walter. He’s actually talkin’ some sense”, she’d say. She said it a lot.

 

So the way my school mornings work is we load up into the car, a 1974 AMC Gremlin. It looks like a spaceship to me. I call it a “happy car” ‘cause it looks like it’s smilin’ at me, too.

 

Me, Momma, and Daddy squeeze in, “without much more room for an extra thought” as Daddy puts it. I guess that’s why they’re talking about a new car. We take Daddy to work at “the plant”, where he “makes things”, then me to school.

 

We pull into the parking lot at our school, Forest Lane Elementary, the one elementary school in Oaktown, our little town here in North Carolina.

 

Now, Forest Lane Elementary is a big place. We got a gym and cafeteria on one side,...

Erscheint lt. Verlag 19.11.2024
Sprache englisch
Themenwelt Literatur Romane / Erzählungen
ISBN-13 979-8-3509-8435-4 / 9798350984354
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