Son of Fred -- Early Reader ages 7-9 (Ch. 5)

Chapter Five - At Victoria Park…

It was a short walking distance down the street. Shawn's new sneakers seemed to fly along the sidewalk.

Kids playing soccer noticed the scooting boy. He was wearing his blue cap with WILSON'S OIL printed on the front.

"Watch where you're going!" one shouted.

“It’s that scared-cat kid,” another added. 

Speedy feet turned Shawn into an, ‘Indy-500’ boy. His short-sleeved blue and white striped shirt whipped in the wind. His best blue jeans were like a streak of movement.

And his knapsack bobbed up and down.

Shawn didn't have any friends. He was always laughed at, and he was tired of people feeling sorry for him.

He was running to escape, to the forest. Maybe it might even lead to the ocean. His dad might be there.

Speedy feet dug in and began to pick up speed. Arms moved around in circles like two windmills.

Everyone told him he needed to have foster parents. Some said his dad didn't care about him. Shawn knew they were ‘Make-Up’ stories.

They even said his dad wasn't coming to visit anymore.

NOT TRUE!

He didn't believe them.

His dad was lost. That’s all.

His feet moved faster. Shawn's sneakers were like roller blades. ZOOM! ZOOM! They seemed to shout on the asphalt walkway.

People told him, “you poor little boy. So lucky to have someone to look after you.” The Children's Aid had placed him in this foster home.

Maybe I'll be there forever and ever, he once thought.

Did dad want him to stay there? He wondered. 

It was supposed to be only temporary, until Fred finished working for the summer in the North West Territories. But the boy didn't understand.

Shawn’s little boy heart was afraid.

Forever was a too long time.  

He closed his ears to their ‘Talk-Talk.’ He shut his eyes to their sneaky smiles. The wind flew at him like a jet plane.

People stopped to watch.

Was that Batman? Little kids wondered.

Shawn opened his heart to the trees, and the children’s playground. He ran to the swings and their swaying. His heart was thumping.

After skipping along, he sat himself in one for a rest.

He knew he was somebody.

He was Son of Fred.

It was exciting. It felt like he could fly. His legs pumped faster and faster. Some people standing below looked up. All they could see was a pair of sneakers dancing in the air.

His shirt flapped like a flag behind him. Pants filled with air, almost like sails on a ship.

Visitors to the park saw his smile. And heard his singsong.

"I am Me. I am Son of Fred."

And they walked away, smiling too.

He was scooting higher than a kite. Now he knew he could do it. He could...he would.

Find Fred.