Like Bug Juice on a Burger Read Online Free Page B

it,” I told Joplin.
    “My nose would rather play soccer,” she said.
    So we walked together to the soccer field.
    She stayed there, to play.
    And I kept going.
    The barn stood, wide and white,
    at the other end of the field.
    It was dark and cool inside,
    and a little stinky.

    A few girls had arrived before me.
    They were peering into a wire cage in a back corner
    and saying things like,
    “So
cute!” and
    “So
fuzzy
!” and
    “Look at its little
wings
!

    I knew little chicks were hopping around in that cage.
    I’d seen them during the camp tour.
    They
were
cute and fuzzy,
    with tiny little wings.
    But still.

    I preferred the floppy-eared goat.
    He was lying in the back of his pen,
    on top of some hay.
    Just thinking.

    When I stopped in front of his gate,
    he sniffed the air a little,
    then pulled himself up and walked toward me.
    He was brown from head to toe,
    the color of my dad’s morning coffee.
    “They’d better not name you Spot,” I told that goat.
    “You don’t have a single spot on you.”
    He pushed his nose through a gap in the gate.
    I scratched underneath his chin
    and kept thinking about names.
    He didn’t seem like an Antoine.
    Maybe a Sweet Pete.
    But definitely,
    definitely
    a Cornelius.
    “Don’t you think so?”
    I asked him,
    patting his back.

    “Don’t you think you’re a Cornelius?”
    He gave a nice bleat.
    I took that for a yes.
    I couldn’t keep talking to him, though.
    Because other girls arrived
    and stood beside me at the gate.
    Including curly-haired Kylie.
    Before long,
    the farm counselor told us it was time
    for the goat’s bath.
    We went into the pen
    and wet him gently with a hose
    and rubbed baby shampoo into his soft coat
    and rinsed him off.
    He did not like the rinsing!
    He jumped around
    and shook his whole body,
    splattering water all over us.

    Then the counselor looped a leash over his head
    and let me walk him out into the sun,
    so he could dry.
    As I led clean Cornelius out onto the grass,
    I thought,
    I’m walking a goat!
    He wasn’t a dog.
    But still.
    For that moment,
    I could pretend
    he was mine.

For lunch we had a choice
    of black beans with yellow rice
    or sloppy joes.
    I don’t like beans of any color.
    And I hate orange, oozing sloppy joes.
    “Can’t we ever have burgers?”
    I asked the lunch teenager.
    “Sloppy joes are like burgers,” she said.
    “No, they are
not
,” I said.
    “They are nothing like burgers.”
    She shrugged
    and heaped even more salad than usual on my plate.
    And I ate lettuce and tomatoes with lots of croutons
    for lunch.
    I’d never known before
    that croutons are
delicious.
    I ate three rolls, too,
    instead of just two.
    Because Joplin gave me one of hers.

I worried and worried during rest hour,
    after lunch.
    Because swim lessons were next.
    I’d have to go to my baby class
    and then make my way to the floating trampoline
    wearing my diaper.
    I lay on my bed, worrying.
    I’d just decided to fake
    a stomachache
    when Hope walked to the
    middle of the cabin floor.
    “Mail time!” she said.
    She looked at the first letter
    in her stack
    and called Dylan’s name.

    Then,
    looking at the next letter,
    she called mine!
    “Your very first letter at camp!” Hope said,
    handing me my letter.
    “Thank you!” I said.
    I ripped that letter right open
    and started reading.
    I read:

    Dear Eleanor,
    I want you to receive a letter every single day.
    So I’m writing to you already,
    even though you
just
left on the bus.
    The apartment feels so empty without you.
    I put on the radio, hoping it would fill the space a little.
    But it doesn’t work!
    By the time you get this,
    you’ll have spent at least a day and a night at camp.
    I so hope that you’re happy!
    Some of my very best memories from childhood
    are from Wallumwahpuck.
    It might be a little hard for you in the beginning,
    being away from home for the first time.
    But I know how strong you are.
    And how capable you are.
    And I’m certain that in the