Scots Bay, NS
Freckle-faced Boy. Eight-years-old. Sitting in pile of pillows. Blue T-shirt with Totoro’s smiling face.
Firewing, Kenneth Oppel (HarperCollins)
Page: 7
They just didn’t see the point of him.
Boring, Griffin thought. That’s what he was to them. And they were right. There was nothing special about him. He wasn’t a particularly good flyer or hunter. He hardly ever joined in their games. And why should he? They only ever seemed to want to do ridiculously dangerous things.
The wagon has no rails around the edge, no rim, just a flat wooden bed on four ready wheels, led by a bent metal handle. His friends, twin boys, two years older, push and pull him up to break-neck speed for the “Big Curve.” Bike helmet strapped on his head, knuckles white over the sides, he flies along, grinning. His mother is on the porch, hands on her hips, thrilled and frightened all at once. He shouts out to her as he speeds by, her face a blur, “Danger is just another word for excitement!”
