The Cat Ate My Gymsuit Read Online Free Page A

Wolf in his arms and started to suck his thumb. “I love Wolf. He’s my friend. He never yells at me.”
    “Look, kid. You’re four years old . . .What are you going to be? Forty, hugging that bear and sucking your thumb? You’ll never get a job that way.”
    Stuart started to cry.
    I was scared, but I said, “Daddy. Please don’t yell at him. He’s just a little kid.”
    He started to yell. “Don’t you start. First I have problems at work. And then I have to come home to all this. All I want is a little peace and quiet. I was an only child. I’m not used to all the noise in the house. Your mother is always busy with you two. She never has enough time for me.”
    My mother said, “Martin. Please calm down.” He kept it up. Stuart started to cough really hard. I started to shake. I didn’t want to show him that I was upset, but then I yelled, “You don’t want to talk because you think I’ll say that I hate you.”
    “I don’t care if you hate me. Don’t you ever talk to me that way, young lady. Go up to your room.”
    “Martin. Give her a chance to talk. You don’t give anyone a chance to say anything.”
    “You just keep quiet. What do you mean, I don’t give anyone a chance to talk?”
    “That’s exactly what I mean.”
    My father stood up and yelled, “Marcy! This is all your fault. You and that stupid group-dynamics crap. Why can’t you leave well enough alone.”
    I screamed, “I hate you! Just leave me alone,” and ran up to my room. I could still hear them fighting. Crying, I heard the door open. It was Stuart, with Wolf.
    “Can I come in?”
    “O.K.” I tried to stop crying.
    He sat on the bed. “Marcy. I love you. Wolf loves you. Don’t cry. Please.”
    “Stuart. I love you too.”
    “Why is everybody always yelling? Why can’t we be happy?”
    “Don’t worry. It’ll be all right.”
    “I don’t like yelling.”
    We just held on to each other. My mother came in and said, “Daddy doesn’t mean anything when he yells. That’s just his way. Don’t be frightened. He loves you very much. He just doesn’t know how to show it.”
    I could see that she had been crying. I felt so bad. Nothing that I ever did turned out right.
    “Your father says that he’s sorry and that we should go shopping Saturday and buy you some new clothes. He thought you’d like that.”
    “I don’t want his dumb money for clothes.”
    “Please, Marcy. Be reasonable. He’s sorry.”
    “I hate him.”
    “Please don’t say that. You’re upsetting me.”
    So we stopped talking about it. Stuart and I went downstairs, and Mom gave us large bowls of ice cream. My father walked into the kitchen. Stuart started sucking his thumb. I finished up my ice cream and asked for more.
    “Marcy. Did your mother tell you that you are both going shopping?”
    “Yes.”
    “Buy anything you want.” Then he walked out of the room.
    When I went to bed that night, I thought about how bad it was in my house, how much I loved Stuart, and how glad I was that Smedley and Ms. Finney were at school.

CHAPTER 6
    E nglish class was really good. We worked hard, but it was fun.
    Certain things were always the same. Every Monday we had to hand in compositions. Wednesday we took our spelling tests, and then there were “The Finney Friday Flicks.” We could bring in popcorn while we watched the movies. After seeing the films, we discussed them.
    Book-report times were great. Once we had to come to school as a character in the book that we’dread. It was like the thing in Smedley, only we were the characters, not ourselves. Getting into small groups, we talked about who we were and what happened in our lives. Then we joined with the other groups and introduced one another. It seemed as if the characters from the books were real people.
    Another time, after studying what propaganda is all about, we made up one-minute television commercials to “sell” our book. We videotaped each one with the school’s equipment, and