Like Jake and Me

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Authors: Mavis Jukes

BOOK: Like Jake and Me
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For more than forty years, Yearling has been the leading name in classic and award-winning literature for young readers.

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Published by Yearling, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books a division of Random House, Inc., New York

Text copyright © 1984 by Mavis Jukes
Illustrations copyright © 1984 by Lloyd Bloom

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eISBN: 978-0-307-80763-2

Reprinted by arrangement with Alfred A. Knopf Books for Young Readers

v3.1

For my mother and father

—M. J.

Contents

T
HE RAIN HAD STOPPED
. The sun was setting. There were clouds in the sky the color of smoke. Alex was watching his stepfather, Jake, split wood at the edge of the cypress grove. Somewhere a toad was grunting.

“Jake!” called Alex.

Jake swung the axe, and wood flew into the air.

“Jake!” Alex called again. “Need me?” Alex had a loose tooth in front. He moved it in and out with his tongue.

Jake rested the axe head in
the grass and leaned on the handle. “What?” he said. He took off his Stetson hat and wiped his forehead on his jacket sleeve.

Alex cupped his hands around his mouth. “Do … you … need … me … to … help?” he hollered. Then he tripped over a pumpkin, fell on it, and broke it. A toad flopped away.

Jake adjusted the raven feather behind his hatband. “Better stay there!” he called. He put his hat back on. With powerful arms, he sunk the axe blade into a log. It fell in half.

“Wow,” thought Alex. “I’ll never be able to do that.”

Alex’s mother was standing close by, under the pear tree. She was wearing fuzzy woolen leg warmers, a huge knitted coat with pictures of reindeer on the back, and a red scarf with the name
Virginia
on it. “I need you,” she said.

Alex stood up, dumped the pumpkin over the fence for the sheep, and went to Virginia.

“I dropped two quarters and a dime in the grass. If I bend down, I may never be able to get up again,” she said. Virginia was enormous. She was pregnant with twins, and her belly blocked her view to the ground. “I can’t even see where they fell.”

“Here!” said Alex. He gave her two quarters. Then he found the dime. He tied her shoe while he was down there.

“Thanks,” said Virginia. “I also need you for some
advice.” She pointed up. “Think it’s ready?”

One of the branches of the pear tree had a glass bottle over the end of it. Inside were some twigs and leaves
and
two pears. In the spring, Virginia had pushed the bottle onto the branch, over the blossoms. During the summer, the pears had grown and sweetened inside the bottle. Now they were fat and crowding each other.

The plan was that when the pears were ripe, Virginia would pull the bottle from the tree, leaving the fruit inside. Then she’d fill the bottle with pear nectar and trick her sister, Caroline. Caroline would never guess how Virginia got the pears into the bottle!

“Shall we pick it?” asked Virginia.

“Up to you!” said Alex.

Months ago, Virginia had told him that the pears, and the babies, would be ready in the fall. Alex looked away at the hills. They were dusky gray. There were smudges of
yellow poplars on the land. Autumn was here.

Alex fiddled with his tooth. “Mom,” he asked, “do you think the twins are brothers or sisters?”

“Maybe both,” said Virginia.

“If there’s a boy, do you think he’ll be like Jake or like me?”

“Maybe like Jake
and
you,” said Virginia.

“Like Jake
and
me?” Alex wondered how that could be possible.

“Right,” said Virginia.

“Well, anyway,” said Alex, “would you like to see something I can do?”

“Of course,” she said.

Alex straightened. Gracefully he lifted his arms and rose up on his toes. He looked like a bird about to take off. Then he lowered his arms and crouched. Suddenly he sprang up. He spun once around in midair and landed lightly.

Virginia clapped. “Great!”

Alex did it again, faster. Then again, and again. He whirled and danced around the tree for Virginia. He spun until he was pooped. Jake had put down the axe and was watching.

“Ballet class!” gasped Alex. “Dad signed me up for lessons, remember?”

“Of course I remember,” said Virginia. “Go show Jake!”

“No,” panted Alex. “Jake isn’t the ballet type.”

“He might like it,” said Virginia. “Go see!”

“Maybe another time,” said Alex. He raced across the field to where Jake was loading his arms with logs. “Jake, I’ll carry the axe.”

“Carry the axe?” Jake shook his head. “I just sharpened that axe.”

Alex moved his tooth with his tongue and squinted up at Jake. “I’m careful,” he said.

Jake looked over at the sheep nosing the pumpkin. “Maybe another time,” he told Alex.

Alex walked beside him as they headed toward the house. The air was so cold Jake was breathing steam. The logs
were stacked to his chin.

Virginia stood under the pear tree, watching the sunset. Alex ran past her to open the door.

Jake thundered up the stairs and onto the porch. His boots were covered with moss and dirt. Alex stood in the doorway.

“Watch it!” said Jake. He shoved the door open farther with his shoulder, and Alex backed up against the wall. Jake moved sideways through the door.

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