Over in the middle of the strawberry patch which, by the way, was covered with straw, there was the largest plumpest reddest strawberry of them all and he shouted…”OK…I need volunteers…lots of ’em….c’mon let me hear you ….this is good duty.”
“Ah….well what we gotta do Boss?”asked an above average sized berry.
“Glad you asked Barry….this special boy LOVES….I MEAN EL..OH..VEE…EEE...LOVES!!!! STRAWBERRIES….US!!!”

“Who’s ready to tear themselves away from here and join me in a nice white bowl?”
“Ah…you promise he’ll LOVE us Boss!”asked another nearly perfect berry.

“GUARANTEE IT! WHO’S with me?”
A crowd of plump perfect strawberries suddenly jammed into a half peck basket that was headed out on the back of an old red pickup truck.
About a quarter mile down the dirt road the pickup came to an abrupt stop.

Meanwhile in the center of the watermelon patch…the biggest stripiest plumpest watermelon stood up on end so that the farmer would notice him first…and it worked!
The watermelon…Wally was his given name…whispered..”YES…I have had the supreme honor of being selected to go to the  home where Gigi, famous lover of watermelons and Jonathan… equally famed connoisseur of strawberries live.”

After the farmer picked Wally and put him into the truck, the fruit started singing happy songs until the farmer had to tell them ….”Hold it down back there…we don’t want any adults to find out y’all can sing.”
Just then they pulled up to  where Gigi and Jonathan, clapping and jumping up and down, met the truck and hugged the strawberries and watermelon before taking them joyfully into the house.
But don’t be sad…strawberries and watermelons are happy to be eaten, but they are SOOOOO much happier when they are making kids like Gigi and Jonathan happy and full….oh…and VERY healthy too!
But just between us….I’m glad I’m not a strawberry OR a watermelon…how about you?

“EIGHT…Where is EIGHT?. This is getting to be too much of a habit with him!” exclaimed NINE.
“I am ONE that agrees TWO!”
“That’s spelled Too ONE!”
“This is the FIFTH or SIXTH time he’s either been out of order or not here at all!” said FOUR!
“That makes THREE of us that agree TWO!”
“EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT!” That’s the SEVENTH time I’ve called him with NO ANSWER!” Grumbled NINE.
“Hey…is anyone lookin’ for me?” asked EIGHT.
A number of numbers all yelled “NOOOOOO!!!”
So EIGHT left and all the numbers that were trying to line up accomplished exactly ZERO!

CHAPTER ONE  Seeing Is Believing

From my bedroom, which I shared with my younger brother, I could see the old dead oak tree in the center of our muddy yard. By the way, my room had no windows.
So now you know my gift AND my problem.
I don’t exactly remember the very first time that I “saw” the “un-seeable” but I DO remember the very first time that my Mom caught on.
It was on that afternoon when I mentioned the trunk that Dad had stored, actually “hidden” the night before in the work shed next to the dead oak.
“Wait Roger. How could you see that? Who told you about that? You were in your room and we thought you were both asleep.”
“I’m sorry…but I saw Dad carry it in there. Looked pretty heavy too.”
“So you snuck down stairs to spy on us?”
“No…from my room.”
“Don’t lie to me Roger. I won’t hit you, although your Father will not be happy about this…AT ALL!”
“But I DID…I CAN!”
“Impossible! You’ve told some whoppers but this is…OOOHHH….WAIT ‘TIL YOUR FATHER GETS HOME! Now go to your room.”
Her face was red and wrinkly and she was as angry as I’d ever seen her.
I went upstairs.
“Boy are you in trouble!” My little brother Stevie said with a smile that ran practically to his ears!
“Do your homework, Ugly!” I utilized my seniority position as older brother to shut him up.
“Can you help me with my math?”
I just stared at him for twenty one seconds ( I counted) “Sure!” And I sat down to show him my wizardry with fractions.

Later that day around five fifteen, I looked out through my bedroom wall and saw Dad’s old Studebaker bounce to a halt.
“Dad’s Home Mom!” I yelled down the steps.
She was standing at the bottom of the stairs glaring up at me when I looked out of my
door. Her eyes were as wide as they could get with a lot of white showing and she seemed truly puzzled.
That’s when I knew she knew what I could do. I probably shouldn’t have made that subtle smile just then because that’s when she spun around and shouted toward the back door…
“You’ve got to have a serious talk with your son!”
Dad trudged through the door looking tired and smoky grey from the furnaces where he worked as a boilerman.
“Which one?” he asked and I snickered.
I shouldn’t have done that either.
Mom’s fiercest glare shot straight up the stairs at me and I serioused up quick like!
“ROGER of course! Get down here Roger NOW!!!”
Stevie poked his head out of the bedroom door and I cautioned him, as any older protective brother would do, and said, “Better get back in there if you wanna live!”
“Slam” went the door and I moseyed down the steps.
Of course Dad didn’t believe me any more than Mom had and I needed to suggest a test or two to prove my “Super Sight” to them, which I thought was a cool name for it.
Dad hid a few items outside while I stood in the corner and looked at the crack in the wall.
Then he said ”OK!” and I turned around, looked at the back solid wall, actually “through” it, and saw the rusted red gas can sitting on top of the firewood where I knew it didn’t belong.
“You might start a fire with that gas can Dad…dry wood and all!”
“Don’t get smart Roger!” Mom shook her finger and head at me.
The next time it was the trash can directly in front of the shed door.
They were convinced! But then they just sat down at our green Formica kitchen table with their heads in their hands and stared blankly.
“Can I go now?”
“No! Tell your Father what you told me about the trunk last night!”
I did. Dad looked scared, and I had never seen him like that before…EVER!
Then I got scared too. I guessed that Dad and maybe Mom also were doing, hiding, something awful and illegal and I had found them out!

CHAPTER TWO What’s In That Trunk?

I did ask my parents exactly what WAS in that trunk and they responded that it was none of my business and to go do my homework! Which I did. But I WAS puzzled that hiding the trunk secret seemed to be more important to them than my newfound amazing “Super Sight.”
My problem was that my ability to see through our house walls didn’t work outside of the house for some reason. For instance, when I went outside and tried to look inside I couldn’t. Then I got to thinking that maybe it wasn’t the best thing to be able to see through and into EVERYTHING. But I sure wanted to be able to see into that trunk!
My thirteenth birthday was coming up fast at that time and I thought maybe my parents
would let me look into the trunk as my present. But I would have to wait until they calmed down a bit.
That night at dinner my Dad said “Your birthday is this weekend and you know that your Mom and I don’t have a lot of money but we did want to celebrate your thirteenth with something you wanted AND needed. But now that you apparently don’t need what we got you, we doubt that you’ll want it now too. Let’s go out to the shed and I’ll show you what’s in the trunk!”
I was so excited but also confused, but the excitement won out!
Dad unlocked the truck, creaked open the lid and there it was! An old, used, but in good shape,… bedroom window!
“Stan down at work promised to install it in yours and Stevie’s room. Do you still want it?”
“Ah…yeah sure…and it will be good for Stevie too Dad.”
Well, to make this story less long, Stan did install my window on my birthday and it worked fine…BUT! You guessed it! I could no longer see through any of the walls in our house, which of course, I didn’t know before installation. I was very sad to lose my short lived “Super Sight” but the one thing that made me happy that very night, was that I could see the stars right through our ROOF!”
It worked great at bedtime, and I just had one request for my parents. “IF YOU GET ME A PRESENT… I DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES WANT A SKYLIGHT!”

At the very end of the sentence, in fact, at the very end of the paragraph in the book “Dot”, as she was known to all of the other punctuation marks, was quietly sobbing.
The Question Mark slid over next to her and asked “What’s wrong Dot?” (He was ALWAYS asking questions!)
“I’m so…so…insignificant…unimportant…almost non-existent…period!”
Exclamation Point had overheard Dot and Question Mark’s discussion and came over to exclaim his feelings about Dot’s importance.
“Why that’s just not true Dot….you’re…well…your the MOST important of ALL of us!”
Then it seemed that the whole punctuation bunch rushed down to where all the commotion was around little Dot.
Quotation Mark seemed to be the spokesman for the group and said “Dry up those tears, Dot, you are so super-important: might I add; (and exceedingly vital) that none of us would know where to stop…I mean…do you understand?”
Then Quotation Mark asked “Did I get everyone in on that sentence?”
Dot said “You are all so kind. I’m feeling much better now …thank you…ALL!”
Then bracket ran up and skidded into Question Mark “{ ah }Am I too late?”
“Perhaps next time bracket…it’s OK pal!” Question Mark put his curved arm around bracket.
As they all went back to their proper places, Quotation Mark said quietly to himself “I hope NO one, especially Dot, noticed that I failed to use a period in that sentence!”

“George!”
“Abe!…ah….6042A….I don’t think we’ve ever met before.”
“No…3088D..I don’t believe so.”
“George….how did you get that notch there near the corner?”
“Oh, that….yeah….zipper nipped me as she pulled me out to pay for a balloon at the Dollar Store. LOVE THAT PLACE.”
“Zippers…yeah….why can’t humans stick to the soft old folding wallets?”

“Progress…I guess. I hate those vending machines too, though I will admit they do help with the wrinkles you know!”

“By the way, I saw dozens of new Franklins last week when I passed through the First National Bank. I kinda like the older versions of those bills that look more like us don’t you?”
“Ah…progress again….but yes we’re more…classic…traditional…Abe.”

“By the way…I don’t really like going through the Federal Banks. I’m always nervous that they’ll examine me and decide that I’m too worn to stay in circulation.”
“Oh you’ve got a long time before …ah….I hate to say it….but you know….the SHREDDING!”
“Let’s change the subject Abe…oh wait is she gonna?…..yep….well…see you again I hope!”
“You’re gonna be with lots of friends here at the Dollar Store….see ya! George.”

“Gosh it’s lonely in here now that George is gone. I hope we go to the supermarket. I love being in those cash trays with lots of other Lincolns.”
Then a new voice yelled out….”Hey….you’re puttin’ me in the wrong….oh no…..”
“What are you doing in here? You don’t belong here this compartment is just for bills, legal tender, CASH!”
“Listen, I don’t like it any more than you do Lincoln….Might as well make the best of it….I’m Visa but you can just call me “VEE”!

We went to Texas to see my Uncle Jake

And one night for dinner we all ate rattlesnake

They said “Don’t worry, it tastes a lot like chicken”

It was OK but it wasn’t fingerlickin’

But I think eating it was a big mistake

‘Cause now each time that I eat chicken

It tastes like rattlesnake!

He was the last puppy in the litter. The one that nobody seemed to want.
He had the same big eyes as all of his brothers and sisters and his fur was just as solid black as all the others…but…he WAS much smaller, and thinner and he had to admit…weaker than his siblings. Yes…he was the “runt” of the litter.
It seemed that no one would ever want to adopt Runty and his human family had even stopped advertising and had taken down the sign that offered “Genuine Scottie Puppies!” from their front window.
Then one rainy morning a knock on the door was to change Runty’s life forever.
“Hello…I’m Mrs. Wilson. My son Todd has been very sick for a long time and our family decided that a new puppy might help him to feel better. Do you still have any puppies left?”
“Well…there’s just one…but I’m afraid it’s the runt of the litter…in fact we named him “Runty”.
“Ohhh…” Mrs. Wilson exclaimed as Runty had run to the door and was jumping up and down around her feet.
“My…he’s lively….and he’s REALLY cute isn’t he?” Mrs. Wilson bent down and patted Runty on his head.
“Would you like to come home with me…ah….Runty?”
Runty let out a short sharp bark and began licking Mrs. Wilson’s hand.
So Runty was adopted and went home with Mrs. Wilson where he met for the first time…little Jimmy Wilson.
Jimmy was in his sick bed but leaned down and helped Runty jump up onto the covers. Jimmy smiled and petted Runty and the Scottie rolled over and nuzzled the boy’s hand and licked his fingers.
Then Jimmy sat up and placed the pillows behind his back and Runty climbed into the boy’s lap. It was the first time that the boy had sat up in bed in more than a week. Jimmy’s Mom stood in the bedroom doorway and smiled wider than she had in a very long time.
As the weeks passed Jimmy grew healthier and Runty grew bigger and stronger too. It wasn’t long before they were going for walks around the neighborhood and soon Jimmy was well enough to resume attending Parks Middle School.
Two months later Jimmy’s school held a dog show. Jimmy brushed and trimmed Runty’s fur and taught him how to “heel” which is when Runty walks along at the same speed as Jimmy staying exactly at the boy’s heel.
Well…Runty won “Best in Show” and sported a bright blue and gold ribbon on his collar!
Oh…and just for the record…Two of Runty’s siblings were in the show too but it was Runty that everyone voted for.

“I’m beat!” moaned the big bass drum.
“It’s not surprising since the stick that I’m hit with is called a “beater!”
“I know…I know… I’m supposed to be….beaten, but I’m starting to not like it so much.”
Dudley the drum had to admit that he loved marching in parades and adding the “Boom” to the band but more and more he looked forward to the “after” parade rest.
He could recall when he was little, his drum parents would punish him when he did something wrong by not beating him for a week.
He had to just sit there during their jam sessions and not make a sound. He was so happy when the punishment was over and they started to lovingly beat him again.
But at his age he guessed that he had been thumped, struck, boomed or whatever verb you cared to use, thousands upon thousands of times and he just wasn’t enjoying it as much as before. What to do?
Then one afternoon he was suddenly picked up, sideways…and placed flat on the carpet in his owner’s living room right in front of the sofa.Then a vase of flowers and a candy dish were put on his “skin” and he heard them say…”Well…what do you think? COFFEE TABLE…or not?”
Dudley’s life flashed in front of him as he realized that he might possibly never be beaten again!
It seemed to Dudley like hours that he sat there and they just stared at him from various angles, “tsk”ing and pulling at their jaws…until finally the woman said…”No…I don’t think so!”
The man then said…”Yeah…I agree.”
The flowers and candy were removed and Dudley was set upright and then both of his owners hit him simultaneously with their beater.
“Ah…that feels good!” Dudley whispered and never EVER complained aga

Once upon a time there was a clock named Saul
He was the type of clock that hung on the wall
Well he could see very well all that went on
But he’d have rather been a watch since the second he was born

He always knew what time it was and was never slow or fast
But he had dreams of a better life as the time passed and passed
He dearly loved the Spring because springing ahead was fun
But he dreaded the Fall ’cause turning back hurt his hands some

He wanted a chime or at least a bell
Or maybe a voice so the time he could tell
But it seemed no one cared that he couldn’t speak
When they looked for the time…they just took a peek

“What if I stopped running maybe then they would stare
And they’d take me down and fix me with care
But then what if they didn’t and just threw me out
You shouldn’t do things if you have any doubt”

“So I guess it’s time to be thankful and happy I’m here
And look forward to timekeeping …year after year
I’m so glad we talked and had this little chat
If I weren’t a wall clock…I’d wish to be that!”