Life In The Gumball Machine Read online

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  DAISY

  Daisy was mad. Her two best friends, Patrick and Michael, left her to play football with the guys. That was one sport that she did not like to play. She was shorter than the other fourth graders in their class, and she hated getting tackled. It hurt! She usually played all of the other cool sports with the boys, like baseball, basketball and soccer – but not football.

  Daisy would be sure to give them a piece of her mind when they returned from their fun and games! They didn’t even ask her if she wanted to play. Oh, well. Who was she kidding? Why would they ask her to play football when they already knew the answer? Still, she was mad.

  Some of the girls at school called Daisy a tomboy because she played sports with boys. She didn’t look like a tomboy. What is a tomboy, anyway? She asked herself this question, even though she knew the answer. One of the boys at school said that a tomboy is a girl who has boy-short hair and wears boy clothes, and who climbs trees and plays with worms. She remembered he had said, “It’s a girl who looks and acts like a boy, duh!”

  I am not a tomboy, she told herself. She certainly didn’t think she looked like a boy. She didn’t have boy-short hair or wear boy clothes. What are boy clothes, anyway? She wore dresses – sometimes. According to her grandma, her eyes were as blue as the sky. And, according to her mom, her shoulder-length, wavy blond hair was very pretty when she wore it down. But she didn’t like to wear it long. She usually wore her hair in a ponytail or pigtails so it wouldn’t get in the way while she played. Did that make her a tomboy, she wondered? No. Wearing my hair in a ponytail does not make me a tomboy, Daisy decided. And worms? No way! Gross!

  In addition to people thinking she was a tomboy, Daisy often complained to her mom that she was shorter than almost everyone in her class. Her mom kept promising her that she would have a “growth spurt,” but she was beginning to wonder whether that would ever happen.

  Patrick and Michael, on the other hand, were tall for fourth graders. Michael, age ten, was one of the smartest and funniest kids in their class. He knew how to crack a joke without hurting anyone’s feelings. Most of the kids liked him a lot. His warm, brown eyes twinkled when he smiled, and his light brown, spiked hair was usually hidden under a baseball cap worn backwards. He was starting to get muscles from all the sports he played, and even though his pants were baggy and his shirts were often un-tucked and much too big for him, many of the girls in their class thought he was cute. Michael didn’t like that. He thought that girls were annoying! Daisy never thought of him as cute. She never paid attention to stuff like that.

  Daisy’s other friend, Patrick, was one of the oldest kids in their class. At age eleven, he was not only taller than both Daisy and Michael, but he was also very thin. His sandy blond hair was so straight that it moved when his head moved – which was all the time. He had braces on his teeth, and freckles that sprinkled across his nose and cheeks. The twinkle in his blue eyes was often hidden beneath his large glasses which were always sliding down his nose. He was supposed to wear them at all times, but he often left them at home because they were too big. He hated them, but his mom bought the larger size so he could grow into them. She said it would save lots of money. Whenever he forgot them, he had to scrunch his face and eyes so he could see. Sometimes, he would bang his shin on a chair or a table. Daisy and Michael couldn’t help but laugh whenever he did this, because he always said “ooh-owie” instead of just “ow.”

  Patrick was funny, but he never meant to be funny. He was a little clumsy, even when he did remember to wear his glasses. He often just tripped over his own two feet. He called it bad luck. Sometimes, he stepped into icky things, or spilled food on his shirt. This upset him because he liked being neat. He liked to wear clean shirts, and he always tucked them into his pants. So whenever he spills something on his shirt, or steps into mud or other nasty things, Daisy and Michael can’t help but chuckle. They could always count on a good laugh whenever they were with Patrick. Even though Patrick tried to look nice, he wasn’t as popular with the girls, and for this he was extremely happy. Girls scared him!

  The thing Daisy liked most about the boys was that they always made her laugh. They laughed all the time. The boys liked having Daisy for a friend, too. They thought it was cool that she liked playing all the same games they liked to play. They never thought of her as a girl, except when she refused to play football. They wondered why it was such a big deal to her. They usually told her she was being a big baby, and that getting tackled didn’t hurt that much. They wished she would try it again, and often begged her to join them in a game, just to see if she’d change her mind, but she always refused.

  “One day,” Patrick told her, “we’ll get you to play a game of football with us.”

  “Not on your life,” was how she always responded.

  Deep down, even though she wanted to be both a tomboy and a real girl, she knew in her heart that no matter what she did, or who she played with, she was a girl. She loved playing with Michael and Patrick, and just hanging out with them. But she also liked – what her older brother, Joe, called – “girlie” things. She would give anything to play jump-rope, have dress-up parties, make beaded jewelry, wear lipstick and pretty flowered dresses, and whisper about some of the cute boys in school.

  She wished for a friend who would like that stuff as much as she did. She could never confess this to Michael and Patrick, or anyone for that matter, and she couldn’t do any of that “girlie” stuff, unless she wanted to do it by herself. There’s no fun in that, she told herself. If only she had a “girl” friend.

  Unfortunately, wishing was all she could do. There were no girls in her neighborhood. All the girls from school lived too far from her house. Sure, they hung out in school, but that wasn’t enough. After all, you have to go to class, and listen, and sit up straight, and be quiet half the time. Plus, most of the girls in school thought she was a tomboy. Sure, they were nice to her, and she knew they were just joking about the tomboy thing, but she had no real best girlfriend. She had no one who could share her love of the “girlie” things.

  So, here she was, sitting on her front porch, with nothing to do. She heard a noise, and turned her head in time to see her mother at the screen door carrying two glasses of lemonade. Daisy jumped up to help her open the door.

  “Thanks,” said her mom, as she handed Daisy one of the cold glasses.

  They both sat down on the top step of the front porch, drinking their lemonade in silence. It was a warm day, and Daisy thought the cool drink tasted delicious. It was sweet and tart. It made her cheeks pucker, and her left eye squint shut after each sip. It was nice to sit quietly with her mom and listen to the gentle sounds of summer – the chirping birds, the buzzing bugs, and the rustling of the leaves stirred by a slight breeze. She enjoyed these quiet times.

  Daisy’s mom was tall and thin, with shoulder-length curly blond hair and blue eyes. Daisy’s dad always said that Daisy got her hair and eye color from her mom. Daisy liked that. Her mom was pretty, and she hoped one day she would look just like her.

  Her mom always knew when Daisy was feeling lonely and how to cheer her up. She could see that Daisy was bothered by something. She took a sip of the lemonade and said, “Guess what, Daisy?”

  Daisy looked up at her
mom for an answer. Pointing off to the left, her mom said, “There’s a new family moving in across the street, at the Donaldson’s old house. Do you see the moving truck? I saw a man taking down the ‘sold’ sign just this morning. And right after that, the movers started unloading their furniture.” Daisy just shrugged. What did she care?

  Her mom continued, “Mrs. Baker told me that the new neighbors have a daughter named Violet, who is ten years old, just like you! Isn’t that great?”

  Daisy quickly turned to her mom. “Really?” she asked. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of having a new friend. “That’s so awesome! I can’t wait to meet her. Do you think she is over there yet? Will you come with me to meet her? I’ll be too scared” – Daisy stopped mid-sentence. “Wait a minute. Mom, I’m not ten years old yet,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Well, your birthday is tomorrow, so you’re almost ten,” said her mom.

  “Yay! Finally! I have been waiting forever to be ten, like Michael. And Patrick keeps calling me a wimp because I’m only nine, and he’s a big-shot eleven-year-old. He thinks he’s so cool and smart. They have been teasing me for months. Ha! I’m catching up to them,” she said. Her big grin put a sparkle in her eyes.

  Daisy’s mom smiled. “Don’t rush it, Daisy. Life goes by fast enough. Enjoy being a kid while you can.”

  “Whatever, Mom!” Daisy was grinning.

  “Whatever, Daisy,” said her mom. “Did the boys say they were coming to your party?”

  “Yes, they both can come,” Daisy said.

  “Good. Hey, I have an idea. What do you think about asking Violet to your party?” asked her mom. “It would be a great way for her to get to know you, and the kids from school and the neighborhood. You have no idea how hard it is to start a new school, where no one knows you, and you have no friends. It’s pretty scary.”

  “Hey, that’s a great idea! You’re pretty smart, for a mom.” They nudged each other’s shoulders and laughed. Daisy really enjoyed the times she spent talking to her mom. She always knew how to cheer her up.

  Of course, she also loved her dad very much. He was funny, smart, and she often asked him for help with her homework. But, her dad just didn’t understand her, like her mom did. It must be a girl-thing, she thought.

  Her big brother, Joe, however, was a completely different story. He teased her, and he always made her angry. Daisy thought he actually enjoyed being awful to her. He was thirteen years old, and had dark brown hair, like their dad. But, unlike their dad, Joe was mean, obnoxious, and annoying to her, every day of her life. He was a big kid, much taller than Daisy, and pretty beefy, too. She didn’t like to mess with him too much. He was very strong and had no mercy. Ouch!

  Daisy also had a younger brother, named Sammie. Sammie was alright, for a little kid. He was a little shorter than Daisy, but he was quickly catching up to her. He too, had blond hair and blue eyes. They got their looks from their mom. Now that she would soon be ten, he seemed even younger, at age eight. Both of her brothers were usually so annoying that she sometimes wished she was an only child.

  Daisy and her mom continued sitting quietly on the porch drinking their lemonade. She could smell her mom’s flowers in the nearby pot. Their house sat on a quiet street, with few cars ever driving by. Daisy still had to remember to be careful crossing the street though, because, according to her dad, “You never know when someone driving too fast might race up the street.”

  Daisy turned to her mom. “What kind of a name is Violet, anyway?”

  “Violet is a beautiful purple flower, just like those,” her mother said, pointing to some flowers on a nearby bush.

  “Oh, that is a nice name,” Daisy said.

  She was so excited that a girl was finally moving into the neighborhood. She could hardly wait to meet her! She hoped she would be nice, and that they would become best friends. It would be awesome if Violet could come to her birthday party tomorrow. Her stomach began to flutter at the thought.

  CHAPTER TWO

  VIOLET

  Violet was a pretty girl with long, dark hair that reached to the middle of her back. She often pulled it back into a braid, with a purple bow placed on the end of it. Purple was her favorite color, “Like the violet flower,” her mother always said. Violet – the girl – not the flower – had large brown eyes with long lashes, and beautiful brown skin.

  As she looked out from the upstairs bedroom window of their new house, Violet wondered about the blond-haired girl sitting on the porch across the street. She also wondered if the girl was her age, and whether they would become friends. She hoped they would. I’ll bet she’s nice, she thought, as she imagined them playing together.

  Violet hadn’t noticed any other kids of her culture in the neighborhood, when she and her parents first drove into town. That scared her a little bit. When they went into a store near their new house this morning, some people stared at them a little bit, and that made her stomach feel funny. She asked her mom why people stared at them. Her mom told her that they weren’t staring, they were just “noticing” them because they were new to the neighborhood. That was all. Her mom also said that Violet should try not to let it bother her. But it did bother her. She didn’t know why, but it did. She did not like that feeling in her stomach.

  “Try to ignore them,” her mom told her. “They’re just curious.”

  Ignore them? How can I ignore someone who is staring at me? People never stared at them in their old neighborhood, so this was a new experience for her. She didn’t like it. Her parents told her she would get used to it, but she didn’t want to get used to it. It didn’t seem right. Why did people look at us so differently just because our skin color was different than theirs? We’re all the same, aren’t we? Only our skin color is different. So why did they stare? Violet didn’t understand this, and it frightened her. Her parents promised her that everything would be fine. She sure hoped they were right.

  Despite being a little scared, Violet did like her new house. It was much bigger than their townhouse back in Chicago. However, she did miss her friends from the old school and the old neighborhood.

  “Daddy has a big new job, and things will be much better for us now,” her mom explained. Violet hoped she was right. Except for the people in the store, she had a pretty good feeling about this place.

  ****

  Later that day, Daisy was sitting on the couch in her living room, looking out the front window. She wanted to go across the street and introduce herself to the new girl, but she was a little nervous. She wondered what Violet looked like, and whether she was nice. She quickly decided that it didn’t really matter what she looked like. She just hoped she was nice, and would want to play with her.

  Suddenly, she saw movement from the corner of her eye. Someone was walking around the side toward the front of the Donaldson’s old house. Daisy saw a girl that looked her age. I wonder if that’s Violet. The butterflies in her stomach returned.

  At that moment, Patrick and Michael walked in from the kitchen. Daisy’s mom had let them in through the back door.

  “What are you doing, Daisy?” asked Michael, as they jumped on the couch to join her. Daisy nearly fell to the floor.

  “Hey, stop! I told you my mom doesn’t want any jumping on the couch!” Daisy yelled.

  “Okay, okay. S-o-r-r-y! We forgot,” Patrick chuckled. The two boys high-fived each other behind Daisy’s back. They loved making her mad.

  Returning to look out the window, Daisy told them she was checking out her new neighbor.

  “I’m going over there to invite the new girl to my birthday party.”

  Just then, Daisy’s big brother, Joe, walked into the room. Even though he was only a few years older than they were, he was much bigger, and loved to act mean and tough. He was always trying to bully them. Patrick and Michael were afraid of him. Daisy couldn’t stand him.

  “What are you doofs looking at?” Joe shouted, startling the three children.

  Daisy snapped back at h
im. “We are looking at our new neighbor, if it’s any of your business.”

  “Oh, yeah, I saw her already,” Joe sneered.

  Daisy didn’t notice his mean tone. “I was thinking about going over there and inviting her to my party,” she said.

  Joe laughed. “You’d be crazy to invite her to your party. What will all your other friends think? I bet they won’t even show up if they find out she’s coming,” he said laughing. Even though he knew it wasn’t true, Joe wanted Daisy to believe that it was true. He was always trying to trick her. She was so easy to tease, he thought, as he strolled back to the kitchen.

  Daisy felt as if Joe just punched her in the stomach. She looked at her two friends. They just stared back at her, shaking their heads. They couldn’t believe how mean Joe could be.

  “Do you think that’s true? Do you think no one else would come to my party if I invited her? That’s not very nice, is it?” asked Daisy.

  “I don’t know. Maybe Joe’s right,” Patrick said, as he shook his head.

  “Yeah, but that’s really mean,” Daisy said. “My friends would never be like that. How about you two? Would you guys come if I invited her?”

  Both boys nodded. “Yep. We’d come for sure,” said Michael. “You should never treat someone any differently just because of the color of their skin. My mom taught me that a long time ago. I can’t believe Joe hasn’t learned that yet.” Michael hesitated. “But I don’t know, Daisy. I’m not sure what your friends might do. I just know what I’d do.”

  From across the hall they heard Joe say, “Do whatever you want. But I know you’d love to have a lot of people and lots of presents at your party.” He smiled to himself as he walked upstairs. He just loved to confuse his little sister.

  Frowning, Daisy rubbed her forehead. She didn’t know what to think or do. She decided not to go across the street and introduce herself. Not just yet. She had some thinking to do. Something didn’t feel right. She knew this was wrong, but yet her brother seemed to know what he was talking about, and he is much older than me, thought Daisy. She also secretly admitted that she hoped for lots of presents. Wrong, wrong. It feels all wrong!