Read Bobby the Brave (Sometimes) for Free Online

Then they headed to Sew What, the fabric store.
    Bobby had never been to a fabric store before. There were aisles dedicated to all sorts of yarn: thick, thin, fluffy, and fuzzy. Spools of thread in every color imaginable, even cerulean, took up an entire wall. And the knitting needles looked like the kinds of weapons that Mike Marvel, the action hero, might use when fighting off surfer spies.
    As Bobby explored the store, he wished he had his skateboard. It would have been so cool to skate through Sew What, making sharp cuts around the end displays and running his hand over the rows and rows of colorful material.

    â€œCan we go now?” Annie moaned. “I don’t even know why I’m here!”
    â€œHow about this?” his mother said, pulling out a nice yellowish cotton fabric.
    â€œI think Sandy is more sandy colored,” Bobby noted. He was staring at some black material with glow-in-the-dark planets on it. It seemed like that would be good for something. Maybe he could talk his mother into using it for new curtains in the living room.
    â€œWhat about this?” Casey said, tugging on a bolt of fabric. It was pink and purple with hearts on it.
    â€œCan we go now?” Annie said louder, this time with an exaggerated yawn.
    Bobby wondered if all teenagers were like Annie, or if her moodiness was unique. He had asked her about it once, but after she screamed, “I AM NOT MOODY!” he thought it best not to bring it up anymore.
    â€œWell, Bobby, what do you think of Casey’s fabric selection?” his mother asked, smiling.
    He smiled back, then said to Casey, “That’s nice, but not quite right for a dog costume.”
    â€œCan we go now?” Annie asked. “When can we go? Hello? Is anyone listening to me?”
    â€œAnnie, I told you, we’ll leave once Bobby finds what he’s looking for,” Mrs. Ellis-Chan said patiently.
    â€œHurry up, slowpoke,” Annie hissed to her brother.
    Suddenly, a voice boomed, “I FOUND IT!” At first Bobby thought the store’s loudspeaker was on, then he recognized his father’s voice. “Bobby, get over to the Halloween create-a-costume aisle.”
    Bobby rushed over to aisle number thirteen. His father was beaming and soon Bobby was too. Mr. Ellis-Chan held a bolt of fabric over his head as if he were lifting weights. It was exactly what Bobby was looking for. The fabric looked like real fur. It was light brown, and fuzzy, and perfect!

    As soon as they got home, Mr. Ellis-Chan set up the sewing machine in the guest room where Grammy and Gramps stayed when they visited.
    â€œWow, it’s pretty,” Casey said as she ran her hands over it.
    â€œBe careful,” Mrs. Ellis-Chan warned. “The needle is sharp.”
    â€œI know!” Casey said, nodding. “Snow White pricked her finger on a sewing machine and fell into a deep sleep until the Frog Prince saved her by giving her shoes that fit.”
    â€œCasey, it was Sleeping Beauty, and she pricked her finger on a spinning wheel,” Bobby informed her. They had studied fairy tales in the second grade.
    â€œMaybe, maybe not,” Casey said. “But I like my story better. Daddy,” she asked, “how does the sewing machine work?”
    Mr. Ellis-Chan shrugged. “I’m not sure. But how hard can it be?”

L uckily for Bobby, he didn’t have PE every day. It was Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, leaving him Tuesday and Thursday, plus the weekend, to recover. Mr. Rainerhaus was a very stern teacher. Each class started with fifty jumping jacks and a brisk run around the playground with him yelling, “Faster! Go faster!”
    Bobby didn’t like it when people yelled at him. Some kids didn’t let it bother them when they were yelled at, like St. James. St. James got yelled at all the time. But when someone yelled at Bobby, even if it was a despicable person like Jillian Zarr, it made him feel bad