And Sometimes Tuesdays

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Chapter 1

"Better watch out," Grampy told James on his eleventh birthday, "or the smitten bug will get you." James only laughed it off. But one month and ten days into middle school James Thomas got bit.

It all started the end of seventh period English when he tripped over his own sneakers. James stumbled into the new girl knocking a paperback from her hand.

"Yo, James," called Harv Rickers from across the hall. "Can't navigate them ocean liners of yours?"

James ignored Harv and turned to the girl. "Sorry," he said.

She smiled, revealing a dimple in her left cheek. "I'm pretty good at bumping into things myself."

His ears burned as he picked up her book and handed it back. P. Ackerman was printed in neat round letters on the front cover. The initial, James remembered, stood for Prudence.

The warning bell sounded then and James took off for study hall, his head spinning.

After school he found his best friend Arnie Rose in the parking lot popping wheelies on his bike. "Three whole days to sleep in!" whooped Arnie, squealing to a stop. Tomorrow was Friday and an inservice day for teachers. "I'll ride partway to your grandpa's with you," he said.

Every Monday and Thursday James visited his great-grandfather. His mother called it their male bonding sessions, as if he and Grampy needed to bond. What they had was special, something James couldn't explain.

The boys were leaving the parking lot when Arnie pulled ahead. "Lurene!" he called, waving. Lurene Moore glanced over her shoulder at him. Arnie's face split into a grin so deep and wide it made James think of the Grand Canyon. "Did you see that?" said Arnie. He sounded out of breath. "She gave me 'the look.'"

James shrugged. "What look?"

"You know, 'the look.' Geez, don't you know anything? Girls always give that look when they're interested." Arnie seemed to be talking a lot about girls lately like he was the one interested.

Before they separated at Harrison Street, James asked, "You want to go to a matinee tomorrow?"

"Can't. My dad is picking me and my dorky sister up right after supper tonight." Ever since Arnie's parents divorced two years ago he spent every other weekend and some holidays at his dad's place. "See ya," called Arnie as he peddled away. James continued on to Elmwood Retirement Home where he found Grampy and his friend, Mrs. Butterfield, walking arm in arm up the sidewalk of the large brick building. They waited by the front entrance while James parked his bike.

"James, my boy," said Grampy, opening the door. "Just in time for refreshments." Then he leaned over and said in a voice loud enough for Mrs. Butterfield to overhear, "She'd have us outside taking in the fresh air all day if she had her way. And we'd be missing out on the goodies."

Mrs. Butterfield smiled at Grampy. "There's more to life than a person's stomach."

Grampy took her veined hand into his and squeezed it. "As long as it means I got my Sadie." They walked down the corridor that led to the main dining room where midday snacks were waiting.

After refreshments Mrs. Butterfield went to her room for "a catnap," as she put it, before her daughter came to visit. James and Grampy took a walk along the corridor in the basement that connected the two residential buildings. Grampy called it part of his daily constitutional.

James' sneakers squeaked on the shiny linoleum floor. He glanced downat his feet. Sometimes, like now, he worried that they wouldn't stop growing and he'd end up a freak. They got to the end of the corridor and turned to go back. "Can one part of a person," began James. "Let's say feet, grow faster than the rest of that person's body?"

"Don't rightly know," answered Grampy. "What's going to happen will happen. No use stewing over something that most likely will even out over time. Now if you was to ask what makes a man I'd tell you something can be done about that. Yessir."

Did becoming a man have anything to do with the mixed-up way he felt when Prudence smiled at him? "Grampy," James continued. "I was sort of wondering," and then he paused to consider whether or not he should go on.

"Hmm?"

"Well, I was wondering how you knew it was Mrs. Butterfield you . . . you--"

"You caught the smitten bug, James?"

His face reddened.

Grampy chuckled. "First time for me was when I met your great-grandma. Fourth grade it was. Got bit," he said, snapping his fingers, "likethat. Isabelle was the prettiest little thing in the whole of North Harmony. Now with Sadie it was different. Sort of snuck up on me and took me by surprise. Oh, I was smitten, all right, but it wasn't love yet. No sir, love is something two people build over time." Grampy pressed the elevator button with his thumb. "Guess you could say I've been smitten a few times in my life, but twice I got real lucky."

Outside James and Grampy walked over to the bike. "How's Precious?" asked Grampy. Precious was a Clown Trigger saltwater fish Grampy had given James last year before he moved into Elmwood. No one could keep a pet, not even one as small as a six-inch fish. It seemed like a dumb rule to James, but he was glad Grampy trusted him with Precious.

"Great," said James. "But he's chewing up everything he can get his teeth into. Lately it's the crushed coral. At least he knows to spit it out."

"Yup, Precious sure is a chewer. Good for his teeth, you know."

"Mom says with those shark teeth of his someday he's going to eat us up, house and all. You know how Mom is, worrying over things that couldn't possibly happen."

Grampy laughed.

James shoved the kick stand back with his foot and got on the bike. "What if a person got the smitten bug pretty fast?" James talked down to the ground so Grampy wouldn't see his face and suspect that the person in question was himself. "Then could that same person get over it fast too?"

"James, my boy," said Grampy, patting his shoulder, "it all depends. If it's love, then it can't undo so easy."

Copyright © Susan Rowan Masters, All Rights Reserved