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    Nomads
    Nomads
    Nomads
    Ebook72 pages1 hour

    Nomads

    By Ray Mathews

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Kit Larsin, an eleven-year-old boy at the Haveland House Orphanage, believes he will never be adopted because he is too skinny and does not do well in school.
    Music with a borrowed recorder instrument is his only joy in life – until he finds himself adopted without warning. No one came to see him, no one talked to him.
    He is simply ... adopted!
    What lies in store for Kit?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRay Mathews
    Release dateMar 10, 2011
    ISBN9781458029263
    Nomads
    Author

    Ray Mathews

    About the Author:Ray Mathews is a former IBM Senior Engineer and inventor whose curiosity led him to write mysteries, thrillers, westerns, children's books in prose and verse, non-fiction books on Bridge, Personal Finance, Painting, Model Railroading, and more.He and wife, Sally, have three children, two grandsons, and live in Raleigh, NC.Books by Ray Mathews include:The Golden CrowsA Fetus Is MissingBilly the Kid: The HoaxFinding BrucePreviously Dead8 Christmas StoriesThe Book of Rhyming StoriesBubble ShipNomadsTales for BoysGrowing Up and Other StoriesNON-FICTION BOOKSHow to Expand Your Painting WorldYour Nest Is Your Nest EggSelf-Publish Your Book for Under $100Suit Bidding with the Jacoby and Stayman ConventionsThe TilTable BookA Baker's Dozen True StoriesFly Paper for Kids

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      Book preview

      Nomads - Ray Mathews

      Nomads

      by Ray Mathews

      Cover Art by Ray Mathews

      Published by Smashwords

      Copyright © 2009 by Ray Mathews

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person with whom you share it. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      This book and others by Ray Mathews are available in print at many online retailers.

      *******

      Nomads

      Chapter 1

      I cried myself to sleep again last night. Can’t help myself even if I am eleven years old.

      I cry because I will lose my only friend, six-year-old Tommy Hart who was adopted yesterday which means I’ll be a loner again.

      Mrs. Spender patted my head.

      Kit, don’t get discouraged. Chances don’t come along as often for older boys like you. Come on. You have to put your best efforts into everything you do at your age, Larin.

      Tell me about it, I thought.

      Sixteen-year-old, Mickey Greene has been here for three years and never even had a close call; same with thirteen-year-old Chuck Frye. And I’ve been here almost two years. My problem is nobody likes me. I’m afraid to make friends. Every time I do they disappear.

      The law makes the rules too stiff for folks who want kids. Spender says it’s because they want us to be placed in a loving home. I suppose that makes sense, but doesn’t make it easier. This isn’t the first night that I’ve cried myself to sleep.

      Widow Spender keeps telling me to study hard because prospective parents want smart kids. I know she means well, but the older boys kid me and tell me I’m too small and skinny and dumb.

      And Widow Spender has been on my back because I don’t take more interest in school. "Here's a new music book, Kit. I know you like to play the Recorder, but we just don't have the resources to get you one right now.

      Larin, you have to study more…learn to read well…eat better… you’re too small…too shy…too thin….

      But if they’re only looking for big smart kids, then I’ll never get adopted.

      Some good news would sure be welcome. I am what I am.

      There are times that I wonder what happened to my mother. I lost touch with her long before my Aunt Jenn had her heart attack and died. Hardly anybody came to her funeral. I mostly sat there and cried wondering what would happen to me.

      When I was little my mom would visit me at Aunt Jenn’s house every few months, but her visits came less and less over the years. I guess my mom died, too. I asked Spender and she asked Mrs. Pike, the Head, but there are no records of my mother.

      Haveland House isn’t such a bad place to live for a state-run place, but with thirty-five other guys five to seventeen years old, all trying to get homes, I feel like the runt of the litter. Nobody wants a skinny dumb kid like me.

      Most of the women who take care of us here are widows and they each take care of five boys – ‘so that you get plenty of love and attention,’ Spender told me with a hug.

      Little Tommy Hart gave me his dessert again yesterday. He likes me to play his recorder for him, and I kind of like to. I love the music it makes. Maybe someday I will be a musician; I composed a song in my head, but don't know the musical language to put it on paper. Spender says I have a natural ear for music, and I should take music lessons.

      Yeah, right, Spender. Haveland House will pay for music lessons – uh huh, in fifty years.

      Tommy was going to give me his recorder, but all the boys knew he was about to leave, so somebody took it last night. Ah well.

      That was yesterday.

      Today Tommy is gone. One friend less and now I’m a loner again. All the older boys snicker when they pass me in the hall and call me ‘beanpole’.

      Spender gave me this neat book called Owl Moon. I’ve read it about five times and really like the story and pictures. A girl and her dad go owl-hunting on a winter night; they just walk in the snow and make hoot-owl sounds and shine a light on an owl when it appears. Then they go home happy. The first time I read the story I thought it was kind of dumb, but the story stayed in my thoughts for days, and I realized that the little girl was getting love from her dad, him taking her out in the snow like that. So maybe there was more to owl-hunting than just finding owls. Anyway, I read the book a lot more times, sort of envying the little girl because she had a family who cared for her and did things with her.

      While I sat on my bed halfway through the book again, big Stephen Hicks wandered in, looked over my shoulder at the book, snickered, and said, Hey beanpole, the Head wants to see you.

      The Head. She never calls anyone unless they’re in trouble. Now what did I do wrong? I cleaned the windows in our room like I was

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