Chapter 2
Nigel Awakens on the Wrong Days
like a Sunday. But the morning after the family meeting, Sunday
He climbed out of bed and sauntered down the hall toward the lavatory.
By coincidence, Claris' door opened and she stepped out into the
hallway. Expecting their usual dash to get to the lavvie first, the
boy rushed for it. To his surprise, Claris just stood there in her
night clothes, looking at him in a most peculiar way. Obviously, the
boy thought as he ran into the bathroom, she felt it wasn't the same
Sunday either.
When he got down to the breakfast table, Nigel scooted up into his
chair, first looking intently at Daddy smearing strawberry jam on a
scone and then at Mummy, who was pouring a glass of cranberry juice,
and he wondered if they'd felt it, too.
"Good morning, Nigel," his mother smiled and she nudged Daddy.
"Oh! Nigel! Good morning!" Roger exclaimed, chewing a bit of scone.
He peered curiously over the top of his reading glasses and asked,
"What's the matter? Why have you got that expression?"
"Claris looked at me funny," Nigel said at last, "She looked at me
like she didn't know me."
"Didn't know you?" Angela chuckled, "She's your sister, silly. Of
course she knows you."
Nigel only shrugged and began slowly nibbling on a piece of toast.
"Today's Sunday," the boy said matter-of-factly, licking butter off
his thumb.
"You've got that right," his father replied, "Sunday it is."
"It doesn't seem like the right Sunday," Nigel mumbled with a frown,
"I feel sad."
Roger and Angela exchanged concerned looks, but then Angela smiled.
"It's the right Sunday, alright. We're going to mass this morning, so
finish your breakfast, dear."
And they all went to St. Peter's for mass. Father Schroeder talked at
great length about devotion to God, and he told the story of how God
instructed Abraham to sacrifice his only son, Isaac, to him.
Grief-stricken, Abraham took his boy to a mountain top and put him on
some rocks stacked with wood, and took out a sharp knife with which to
kill the boy.
Now, at this juncture, Nigel was so terrified that he instinctively
covered his eyes so he wouldn't see what happened next.
"Abraham! Abraham!" God suddenly shouted from heaven, "Don't! Now I
know you will give me anything I ask, even your wonderful son."
Although Nigel was very relieved, he couldn't understand why God would
do such a cruel thing, a much crueler thing than throwing Adam and Eve
out of the garden forever, and it disturbed him. After mass, Roger
and Angela noticed their son still seemed rather glum, so as a special
treat they went to Persham Park for 99's (an ice cream cone topped
with a stick of chocolate) and rides on the carousel. The boy
cheered up considerably.
Still, it wasn't the right Sunday at all.
The next morning when Nigel awoke, he hoped that it would be the right
Monday. It felt right. He went out in the hall to go to the lavvie.
By coincidence Claris' door opened and she stepped into the hallway.
Seeing him, she immediately leapt into the bathroom and locked the
door.
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" she taunted from inside, just as she usually did.
And that encouraged the boy, although he had to go quite badly.
When he went into the kitchen, Mummy had made the right lunches, as
she did every Monday. Breakfast of toast and milk and an apple tasted
just like the right breakfast, and Daddy rushed off right at 7:00,
late for the bus as usual. Nigel dressed for school and collected his
books and pencils and crayons and gum and toys and put them in his
Pooh bag. When he had them all in his bag, right where they belonged,
Nigel was certain it was the right Monday after all, and he felt
pretty good about it.
But he was wrong.
He didn't realise it until late in the morning, during reading. Each
child had come from the library with a favourite book to read to a
classmate, and Mrs. Farthley told the children to choose a partner and
rearrange their desks so they faced directly opposite that partner.
That was about as exciting as it ever got in Mrs. Farthley's class, so
the students went at it with gusto, shouting and bumping desks like
Mrs. Farthley kept urgently tapping the chalk tray with her ruler. At
last everyone was paired. Nigel wouldn't have had a partner if not
for his best friend Evan, and little chubby Evan wouldn't have been
chosen if not for his best friend Nigel. Of course, the two boys were
delighted with each other.
"I'll read my story first!" Nigel volunteered.
Out of his Pooh bag he produced Curious George Goes to Hospital, which
was really too easy for him, but he loved the story. Evan had propped
his chin up in the palms of his hands, and Nigel had just cracked the
book when the classroom door swung open. The two boys looked up.
There standing the in the doorway was Headmaster Chandler, wearing a
rather grim expression and whispering to Mrs. Farthley. Then Mrs.
Farthley gazed in their direction and waved a hand.
"Oh, bother!" Nigel moaned, certain he was destined for the
headmaster's office yet again.
He stood up and moved towards the door. Mrs. Farthley immediately
That sent Evan nearly into a panic, for he'd never been summoned to
the headmaster. Cringing, he got up and shuffled over to Mr.
Chandler. Headmaster smiled reassuringly at Evan, and then the boy
stepped through the doorway and vanished.
recess nor math. During science, Mrs. Farthley took a moment to
arrange Evan's school bag and had it sent to the office. Nigel was
left without a friend for the rest of the day. When dismissal came,
he waited in front of the school, expecting Evan to come out. Instead,
Nigel found Mr. Chandler making his rounds.
"Hello, Nigel," Headmaster Chandler said gaily, "Are you waiting for
your mother?"
"No, sir. I'm waiting for Evan."
sorry, Nigel. He's gone home already I'm afraid. He wasn't feeling
well. You should hurry on home now. It's beginning to rain."
So Nigel headed home, feeling dejected beneath his dripping umbrella.
Half way there, he determined he'd stop at Evan's house, since it was
on the way, and see how his friend was doing. Rain was falling
steadily as he tromped up the steps and politely knocked on the front
door.
It seemed the longest time before the door opened. There stood Mrs.
Ethridge with a distracted look on her face.
"Hello, Mrs. Ethridge. Can Evan play?"
"I'm sorry, Nigel," she said, "But Evan isn't feeling very well right
now."
"Well, I can come up and read my book to him in bed so he'll feel
better," the boy offered, holding up his Curious George book
hopefully, "It's a funny book about a naughty monkey in hospital."
"No, Nigel, but thank you. Evan doesn't feel like seeing anyone," the
woman explained, "Come back tomorrow morning to play. Perhaps he'll
feel better then."
And she closed the door.
Nigel tucked his book back into his bag, and then raised his umbrella
and stepped back into the rain. He was feeling extra gloomy then, to
think that a best friend and a naughty monkey couldn't make someone
feel better! As he started down lane towards home, it came to him
that Mrs. Ethridge had made a mistake. She had told him to come back
tomorrow morning to play, but that was impossible. Tomorrow was
HMSVV Christmas 2011
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