Mustang Macy Sample Chapter
Wednesday, August 2
Dear Miss W,
My name is Macy Isabella Rivera, and you met me today for the very first time ever. You also met Matthew, though you weren’t introduced. Matthew is my bike.
Why does my bike have a name? Well, why not? And you’re probably wondering why I named him Matthew. He’s actually named after a character from my absolute favorite book: Anne of Green Gables.
You’ve seen my bike, so you know he’s old and a little worn down, kind of like Matthew Cuthbert, and he’s also very dependable. And he’s a boys’ bike, so it just makes sense that he’d be a boy. (By the way, why are boys’ bikes different than girls’ bikes? Why aren’t all bikes the same?)
I’m glad you’re going to be my teacher this year. I thought I was going to be in Mrs. Fisher's fifth grade class, but she had to move away this summer. When I heard that, I wondered if Miss Berry was going to have to teach the entire fifth grade, but my mom said she was pretty sure the school district wouldn’t do that. Instead, they hired you!
You’re probably wondering why I’m writing to you. (Well, actually you probably aren’t, since I don’t plan to ever send this letter to you, so you don’t even know I’m writing this.)
Anyway, I’m writing this letter because I just have so many words inside me that need to get out, but all of my talking drives my mom crazy. She says it gives her a headache. I don’t think that’s really true, and I don’t always talk, even though she thinks I do.
My three-year-old sister Kinzie, though? She really doesn’t stop talking. It’s enough to drive a girl up a wall and across the ceiling, especially because we share a room, and there’s nowhere to get away from her.
We also share our room with our brother Tanner, who’s about to start third grade. He’s pretty quiet, though. But that might be because between Kinzie and me, he can’t squeeze any words in.
So I met you today, and you seemed super nice, and I think we’re going to get along really well. Somehow you just seem like you’re someone who’s easy to talk to. And I think I won’t drive you crazy, like some of the other teachers I’ve had. Like Mrs. Statler in third grade. We did not get along very well at all. But I got through it.
In all of my eleven years I’ve learned that not everybody likes each other, but you just gotta try to be kind anyway and spend your time with people who like you and who you like back.
I think it’s kind of a good thing that not everybody wants to be friends, though. I mean, if we all wanted to be friends with the exact same people, that wouldn’t work out too well, would it? There would be a lot of jealousy and fighting, and I don’t like fighting.
My mom and my fourteen-year-old sister Kayla fight a lot. When that happens I just go to my room, shut the door, and try to disappear into a book.
Kayla is going to be a freshman this year, but she thinks she’s an adult. She is so not, but when I say that to her, she just yells at me and stomps around.
Mom says that’s just the way girls act when they’re fourteen. I sure hope I don’t.
As for my mom, when I told her I had met you and you’re going to be my teacher, she said she’s known you for her entire life, because you both grew up here.
But it’s been a long time since you’ve lived in Hanley, so I’m going to tell you a little bit about what she’s like now, because it might be different than when you knew her.
First off, she has long blonde hair. She once told me she had short hair when she was in high school, so it’s different now than the last time you saw her.
My brother and sisters and I all have brown hair, just like our dad. But Mom and all four of us kids have green eyes.
Mom says it’s because her family came from Ireland a long time ago. If that’s true, I wish I had gotten red hair from them, just like Anne Shirley (of Green Gables). Of course, she didn’t like her red hair, but I love it.
Sometimes my mom has a job, and sometimes she doesn’t. With four kids and no husband, it’s hard for her. She wants to work, but a lot of times she’ll get a job, and then one of us will get sick and she has to stay home. Or the car breaks down and she doesn’t have the money to fix it, so she can’t go to work. And then they fire her.
That’s not really fair, because what else is she supposed to do? Leave her sick kids home by themselves? Walk ten miles to a job in Millard? It’s not like there’s any public buses in Hanley.
I know a lot of people think my mom is lazy, because I’ve heard them talking when they think I’m not listening. But it’s not true. Even when she doesn’t have a real job, she does odd jobs for people around town to make money when she can.
Mom tries her best, but she gets discouraged really easily. I try to help her, but there’s only so much an eleven-year-old kid can do.
Speaking of Millard, Granny Staley lives there. You might know her, because she used to live in Hanley. I used to be able to see her all the time. But a few years ago Granny’s uncle died and left her a house in Millard, so she moved there. Now she only comes over a couple times a month. I’m glad we get to see each other at least that much, though.
I never get to see my dad anymore. His name is Luis, and he and Mom got divorced right after Kinzie was born. He doesn’t send Mom as much money as he’s supposed to (if he sends any at all). And that really stinks because we could definitely use the cash.
Actually, you probably know my dad, because he went to high school in Hanley too.
Dad lives in Miami, which is also where his parents live. I haven’t seen them since I was really little, so I don’t really miss them because I don’t know them. But I miss my dad a lot.
He used to take me to the park to play basketball. He wasn’t very good, but at least he wanted to play with me. Mom won’t even try. She says she was always so terrible at basketball in school that the other kids made fun of her, so she never wants to touch a basketball again. I’m glad you weren’t one of those kids that made fun of her. Mom said you were always really nice to her.
Okay, my hand is starting to cramp, and it’s time for Kinzie to go to sleep, so I need to turn out the light. Good night, Miss W. I hope to see you again soon!
Your new student,
Copyright © 2017 by Dana Wilkerson
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