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4th chapter |
| Chapter 4 Jenny Anyway? Fenton awoke to a gentle rapping on his door, and the soothing sound of his motherâs voice beckoning him to breakfast. He now noticed the smells, the smell of eggs and bacon, the smell of real breakfast! Fenton was used to breakfast meaning cereal, hot or cold. Those were his usual choices, his mother always said, âBreakfast is such frippery. Who needs to start the day off with a mess?â So Fenton was not accustomed to such wonderful smells in the morning, to put it bluntly, Fenton wasnât too familiar with good smells coming from the kitchen. His was mother was a poor cook to put it mildly. She didnât take well to the kitchen, and the kitchen didnât take well to her. Fenton went to the bathroom, and paid little attention to the wonderful bottles on the shelves. No small feat for such a curious boy, but at the moment, stomach was ruling over mind. He glanced out the window as he was drying his hands, he spotted Krinks, walking through the main yard, on three legs. Curled around his front left arm, were a small pitchfork, and a bucket. He walked along, with a strange hop. He may be able to speak, but his body was still pure cat. He hopped down the stairs and into the small dining room off the kitchen. He turned into the doorway, and on the table set a meal, almost as elaborate as last nightâs supper. Piled high on plates, were pancakes and waffles, another plate held a great mound of bacon and sausages, yet another filled with scrambled eggs. Fentonâs eyes opened wide at the sight of this meal. âFenton, would like a bowl for your cereal?â his mother asked. âHuhâ was all that he could get out of his mouth. âCereal!? I donât want any cereal!!â Fenton yelled inside his head, but âhuhâ was all that came out. âAll that he ever eats for breakfast is cereal.â Bette exclaimed. âThat was the only choice that I ever hadâ Fenton said to himself. âI think I would like some bacon and eggs,â Fenton said. âFenton dear, are you sure?â his mother asked. âAll you ever eat is cerealâ. Fenton as if he had ever had the chance, simply stated âI think I will try some bacon and eggs todayâ a wry smile coming across his face. âIf that is what the boy wantsâ Mrs. Wagonblast interjected âthatâs what the dear will haveâ. She then proceeds to fill a plate with some of the eggs, a few strips of bacon, and a pair of sausages. He noticed that Uncle Jasper was absent from the table, and asked where he was. âHe went out to have breakfast with your father, he has a lot of work to do todayâ his mother explained. âWe probably wonât see him until tomorrow morning, is what he saidâ. After breakfast, Fenton wondered what there was that he could do. He thought of Krinks and where a cat would be going with a pitchfork and a bucket, and what he would be doing with them in the first place. He asked his mother, âMom, can I go and look around the beach a little bit?â âI suppose if it wouldnât be in the way, if it is okay with Mrs. Wagonblastâ was his motherâs answer. âBette, I thought we discussed thisâ Mrs. Wagonblast, said in a somewhat negative tone. Fenton thought that meant no, but Mrs. Wagonblast continued. âCall me Winnie, and yes, I think it will do him some good to go outside, he is much too paleâ she stated. âOkay, then go ahead and donât get into any trouble honey,â his mother cautioned. âOkay, I wonât. Iâll see you laterâ Fenton said as headed out the door and down the steps, the screen door slamming shut behind him. When he hit the bottom step, and gazed towards the small beach at the far end of the yard, off towards the house that is built half on the water. He saw a shape on the beach moving around. âWow that was easyâ Fenton said to himself. He figured it would take him longer to find Krinks. He took off towards the beach, staying to the edges of the paths between the gardens, and the buildings. He wanted to see what Krinks was up to. As he got closer, he slid to the far side of the half on the water house. Now he could see that what he had seen from the bottom of the steps wasnât Krinks, but a girl about his age. She was walking around on the beach, turning over rocks. Fenton thought that this was kind of a strange behavior for a girl, what was she doing that for. âYou know you donât have to spy on meâ the girl said loudly, â I saw you when you hid on the side of the houseâ. Fenton, his cover now blown, got out of his crouch, and walked slowly towards the girl. âWhat are you doing with those rocks?â Fenton asked. âLooking for baby crabs and eels,â She said matter of factly. âWhy are you spying on me?â she asked firmly, lightly tapping one foot in the sand. âI, I thought you were Krinksâ, Fenton stammered. âDo I look like a talking cat to you?â she said, still tapping that foot in the sand. âNo, not at all, itâs justâ Fenton couldnât get the right words out. âI am not covered with fur, or have a tail,â she sung out, still tapping. âWhatâs your name?â she asked. âFenton, Fenton Gilmourâ he blurted out. âOh, Iâm Jenny, Jenny anywayâ the now, not tapping her foot girl said. âAnyway what?â Fenton wanted to know. âAnyway is my last name sillyâ she giggled. âHow do you know Krinks?â Jenny asked Fenton. âI met him yesterday, in my uncleâs yard. And I saw him this morning, leaving with a pitchfork and a bucket. I wanted to know what he was doingâ. Fenton explained. âOh, he was probably just going to dig some clams, he loves clams. How old are you Fenton?â Jenny said as she bent to flip over another stone. âNine, nine years old. How do you dig a clam?â Fenton wondered. âYou dig holes in the sand with the pitchfork until you find someâ she said this with a tone, which made him feel like this was something he should have known. âYou're nine? Why are you so small?â This was the first time Fenton had heard this asked that way. Not looking at him like he was weird, but just wanted to know. âI donât know. Just a little bit shorter than small is what I amâ Fenton, said this almost proud of being small. He had never felt like that before. âOhâ was all that Jenny had to say about that. Fenton and Jenny walked along the small rocky beach flipping stones. For the first time in his life, Fenton didnât feel like an outcast with someone his own age. As they walked along Fenton explained to Jenny how he had come about to wind up staying with Uncle Jasper for a while. All about the fire, and his father. He wanted to tell her all about the suitcases and telescope, but held back. He wasnât supposed to have touched anything, so he better keep mum he figured. âLetâs go and find Krinksâ Fenton shot out, sort of in the form of a question. âIt wonât be hard, itâs low tide, and I know where he digs,â Jenny proclaimed. âLow tide?â Fenton didnât have a clue what she meant. âLow tide, you know, when the water goes away. Havenât you ever been out of the city?â Jenny shook her head. âMy dad says it happens because someone in England keeps pulling out the big plug. Then someone else sees that itâs out, then they fill it up again.â she want on, âhe says if he ever finds the dirty bird that is pulling the plug, heâll be sorryâ. âSee, there he is!â Jenny pointed Krinks out to Fenton. There he was, still wearing his cap, and only his bottom half sticking out from the sand. They walked up behind Krinks, looking at his back legs, struggling mightily against the wet sand, in a battle to hold him from fully plunging into the hole he was working. They stood above him for a few moments, Fenton was wondering just what he was doing. He had his answer a second later, as Krinks struggled to get his front half out of the whole. In his mouth, a clam with a spout, the clam let go with a stream of water in Fentonâs direction. Krinks dropped the clam out of his mouth, startled he said, âmrrroow donât prrr do mmrrrhatâ. âMmmyou could prrrr mreally ppprrr ssscarre a ppprrrrson!â Fenton, still amazed at the fact that Krinks could talk said, âIâm sorry Krinks, didnât mean to scare youâ. âWell meow that ppprru mmmaarre here. Prrrrhaps, mmmuu could prrdo me-ow a favorrrrâ Krinks asked as he furiously tried work his face free of sand. âYou want us to dig clams for you, donât youâ Jenny said to Krinks in a tone that suggested that she had been this route before. âMmmmonly if mmmrru mwant toâ, Krinks said while shaking his front paws to rid them of sand. âIâll dig for some clamsâ Fenton said excitedly". If someone would show me how!â Fenton wasnât exactly sure of the clam digging procedure. âIâll show you once, but I am not spending my whole morning digging clams for that cat!â said Jenny as she picked the pitchfork up off of the sand and poked it into the sand. She twisted the pitchfork in the wet ground and pulled up a forkful of the sand, she repeated the process in the same hole a few times, until eventually she turned the pile and came across another of the squirting clams. Which was quickly scooped up and placed in the bucket by Krinks. She handed the pitchfork to Fenton, and told him that was how it was done. He took the pitchfork and twisted it into the sand just as Jenny had showed him. âWhew, this is harder than it looksâ Fenton said as he struggled against the wet sand. âMmmrust try prrr it, mmmmwith pawwwsâ Krinks was quick to point out. Fenton had to lean against the pitchfork with all of his weight (which while maybe not a lot, was all that he had). A lump of sand tumbled up, he did this a few times, until coming up with a clam. âMmmery good. Prrrrhaps if meeeu both pppull, it mewould be prrr fasssterâ Krinks suggested. âI am not digging for you anymore Krinks. You suckered me into it too many timesâ Jenny said crossly. âCâmon Fenton, letâs get out of here, and let that crummy cat dig his own clams!â âOkayâ Fenton said as laid the pitchfork down in the sand. âWhere are we goingâ he wanted to know. âI dunno, around the beach,â Jenny said as she was walking away. âPlllease prrr donât mmmgo, MmmI could ssstill prrr go mmmfor meeaah more clamsâ Krinks pleaded. âYouâre gonna have to get them yourself, we have to goâ Jenny said over her shoulder, as Fenton followed. âMmmthanks, thank meeuu pppr for mmmnothingâ Krinks cried out sarcastically as they strode down the beach ignoring him. âFollow me, Iâll show you something really neatâ, as if just digging clams for a talking cat wasnât enough. They walked through some of the [pilings that help up half of the house over the water, and through to the other side. There were tall grasses there, which grew to the edge of the water. In between were small pools of water that didnât get sucked out when the drain plug was pulled. Jenny bent at the edge of the first pool, reached into the water and held a small shell out for Fenton to grab. He held his hand out and she placed the small shell in its center. He felt it tickling the center of his hand, and then it started to move. He moved his face closer to his hand, and looked in wonder at the small crab that was now poking his head and feet out from the shell. The whole thing moved, shell and all! âItâs a hermit crab, my dad says that they carry there own house around with them because nobody would want to live with them anywayâ Jenny explained. Fenton was in a world that he had never known before, he had read about some of it, but never did he think he would be able to actually experience it. He only knew the city, and what the city held. |