Chapter 3 Storyteller
Chapter 3 Storyteller Chapter 3 Storyteller Zeke knew he should be grateful for the job, but he resented having to give up his free time. He knew Ma was thrilled that he was working. He also knew that she wished he could tolerate his job with the same kind of fortitude she displayed while enduring her long illness. But he still grumbled. Yet although Zeke hated his job, he liked Mr. Jackson. Zeke enjoyed leaning on his broom, telling Mr. Jackson a joke or story, and Mr. Jackson rewarded his st
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Chapter 3 Storyteller
Chapter 3 Storyteller
Zeke knew he should be grateful for the job, but he resented having to give up his free time.He knew Ma was thrilled that he was working.He also knew that she wished he could tolerate his job with the same kind of fortitude she displayedwhile enduring her long illness. But he still grumbled.
Yet although Zeke hated his job, he liked Mr. Jackson.Zeke enjoyed leaning on his broom, telling Mr. Jackson a joke or story,and Mr. Jackson rewarded his storytelling with a long, rolling, rich laugh that warmed Zeke to his toes.
Zeke began to take special notice of what people were saying and doing ... all the better to entertain his boss.
Mr. Jackson roared with delight the day Zeke recounted how Flossie had sneaked cold custard into his school desk.
"I screamed when I put my finger in it," Zeke admitted."Then she turned around, all big innocent eyes and flashing dimples, to ask what was wrong."
Mr. Jackson wiped his streaming eyes."That does it," he said, suddenly looking so serious that Zeke took a step back.
"Sorry, sir," he said. He began to sweep vigorously. "I know I let my tongue wag too much."
"Put the broom away," Mr. Jackson said softly.
Zeke's shoulders slumped. Sure, he hated the job, but he would hate to lose it too.It would prove that his mother had been right about him all along.
"Son," Mr. Jackson said, "you have no aptitude for cleaning; we both know that."
Zeke swallowed hard. "I'll try harder, Mr. Jackson, sir," he pleaded. "Please don't let me go."
