A small beat-up RV poked down a dark highway. Rather than cruising to or from a live-it-up vacation, the occupants were struggling through a barely-get-by life.
Slouching in the passenger’s seat of their rundown portable home, a blind 65-year-old grandmother, Lunny, sensed something was wrong as her 15-year-old granddaughter, Renh, drove in silence. “You’ve been awfully quiet. Anything other than that clattering tailpipe seem on the fritz?” fretted Lunny.
Renh took a full breath, then dodged the question. “I see our exit. We rented lot five, right?”
“For a trial week,” answered Lunny before again asking if there was a reason for concern. “I heard your heavy exhale. Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Renh shared what she’d been hiding as she passed a strip mall. “I didn’t want you to worry. About 20 minutes ago, a red light came on the dash. About five minutes ago, the head lights got dull. Breaking down is scary at night. Seeing the RV place up ahead puts me at ease,” she added before turning into the RV park, pulling into lot five, then shutting off the engine.
“Before you leave the driver’s seat, try restarting the heap,” requested Lunny.
When only a clicking sound resulted after each of the three times she turned the key, Renh was thankful. “Unlike our last breakdown, we dodged getting towed to a creepy rip-off garage in the middle of nowhere,” she noted.
“Getting to shop around for a mechanic is no small bit of luck,” agreed Lunny.
“I’m too tired to change clothes,” muttered Renh after yawing.
“Me, too. Let’s hit the sack,” said Lunny, taking off the green-framed sunglasses she kept on while awake.
After they brushed their teeth in a small bowl-size sink, Lunny pulled the curtain that blocked the windshield. They then fell back onto their bunks, kicked off sneakers and pulled a blanket snug.
“We didn’t swerve or get tooted once today,” complimented Lunny as she began their usual pre-sleep chat.
“The midday catnaps we’ve been taking have helped,” replied Renh.
Wanting to be encouraging, Lunny recalled something Renh had said earlier in the day. “Your description of the thunderstorm we drove into today was entertaining. ‘It’s a ballooning beast about to burst buckets’ was one of your phrases. We need to make sure you have time to write each day,” she declared.
“I wanna write about us,” suggested Renh with enthusiasm.
“You mean about nomads nudging toward niceness on next to nothing” said Lunny repeating her favorite way to describe their lifestyle. . . . After a long pause, Lunny spoke hesitantly. “While you were in the market today, I got the dreaded call we knew I’d get.”
Renh wasn’t happy. “You told them we’re doing great, right?”
“Yes,” assured Lunny. “They also. . .”
An annoyed Renh had more to say. “Please don’t take offense at my badmouthing, but your son-in-law and daughter—my so-called parents—are first rate schemers. Remember, we were only gone a week when they had second thoughts about giving up your rent money in order to rid themselves of me,” she recalled.
“They asked when you’ll be starting school,” said Lunny, aware she was bringing up one of Renh’s least liked topics.
“Their neglect contributed to my truancy. They don’t care about my education!” insisted Renh.
“I told them you start on Monday without saying where,” said Lunny.
Renh calmed down. “Why am I getting riled up? They wouldn’t dare call social services.”
“I hope not. We’ll be hard-pressed to convince the powers that be that an old blind woman, living in a cramped, junk-box RV and selling pins to help scrape by should be the guardian of a stuffed animal, never mind a teenager.” The pins Lunny mentioned were small flower brooches made of gimp.
A grandmother and grand-daughter have rights, too. We just need to stick with our plan,” contended Renh.
“Part of that plan has us chasing mild weather so that the RV doesn’t become an oven in the summer or a freezer in the winter, which means we need the heap to stop croaking. As you know, the last two breakdowns used up my savings,” reminded Lunny.
Renh tried to be cheerful. “Things are going to get better.”
Blaming herself for their struggle, Lunny fell glum. “I had sight when I fouled-up raising your mother. What makes me think I can do right by you without sight?” she asked.
Concerned that Lunny was thinking about throwing in the towel, Renh stayed positive. “You’re forgetting what you told me: It’s insight, not sight, that matters! I have a top notch teacher of insight!”
After several seconds of quiet, Lunny put Renh at ease. “I won’t abandon you, Renh.”
The next morning, Lunny asked for a layout of the vicinity. “I know we arrived in the dark, but did you, by chance, spot any good places for me to plunk myself?”
“I saw a bench we can walk to. It’s at one end of a string of stores. What about the peddling permit?” asked Renh.
“City hall is closed on Sundays,” answered Lunny as she slid on her backpack, then felt for her cane. “While I try to make a few bucks, you check out the location of the school you’ll be going to tomorrow.”
After walking to the strip mall bench, Renh removed a folding easel from Lunny’s backpack. The teen then pulled out a one-foot-square cardboard display containing 20 colorful apparel pins. Written above the pins was the following request: After offering what you can spare, please choose, take and wear a niceness flower pin.
Done clamping the display to the easel, Renh hung a blue plastic basket under the pins. “I won’t be too long. Good Luck,” she wished before starting out to find the school.
“OK,” replied Lunny as she put her backpack on the bench.
Wanting passersby to feel at ease while browsing the brooches, Lunny slid away from the display and began making more pins.
Creating each brooch required strips of gimp be looped and twisted through a white plastic washer and a small safety pin. The result was a unique ornament the size of a nickel.
After a few hours of carefully listening for customers so that she could respond with a subtle smile and soft thanks, Lunny stood to stretch. Suddenly, while turning to reach into her sack for more gimp, hands fell still as ears told her someone was skulking. Rather than the casual movement of a customer, the individual’s steps were hesitant. Wanting to assure the lurker she wasn’t a threat, Lunny announced her disadvantage as she sat. “I’m blind.”
“I see ya walkin’ pole,” replied a frail, disheveled middle-aged man.
Unknown to the fellow and Lunny, Renh, who, by chance, was returning, saw the scruffy fellow cautiously scoop the bills from the basket below the display. “Hey,” she called out as she sprinted toward them.
Unsure who was coming, the man hastily dropped the money back into the basket. “I’m just curious about, about how well things are going for her. That’s, that’s all I’m, I’m up to,” he stammered.
Lunny replied calmly. “My name is Lunny and my granddaughter’s name is Renh. What’s yours?”
“Noky,” briskly answered the fellow.
“I’m sorry if we offended you, Noky. My granddaughter and I are somewhat new to street life,” respectfully apologized Lunny.
Noky’s hands fidgeted as his voice quivered. “I know about livin’ hand to mouth homeless, but I rummage rather than beg.”
“Am I correct to think a rummager searches for and makes use of items others mistakenly decide no longer have value?” asked Lunny.
“To most, the whole planet is a handy trash bin,” decried Noky. “No one should be allowed to make anythin’ that can’t be recycled. Landfills should be outlawed. People should be shoppin’ at second-hand stores. There isn’t a need for most of what gets bought,” he claimed with eyes watering.
Lunny heard Noky’s sadness. “Earth needs people like you, Noky—people willing to stand up for it. You’ve shared valuable food for thought for which we’re grateful. Right, Renh?”
Though wary of Noky, Renh followed Lunny’s lead. “I’ll think about what you’ve told us, Noky. You might be pleased to hear that Lunny and I shop at second-hand stores.”
“We’re also keeping alive an ancient RV that most would have junked long ago,” added Lunny.
Renh then turned toward Lunny. “By the way, I asked a kid working on his jalopy in his driveway what a red dash light and dim headlights meant. He said we probably need an alternator. He said it’s likely to cost a few hundred bucks. . . . It looks like we won’t be getting the RV fixed anytime soon,” she added.
“You must be in Pally’s RV,” said Noky, aware there was only one RV park in the town.
“Yes,” replied Lunny. “Will you let us treat you to lunch, Noky?”
“Along with bein’ a rummager, I’m a rummy who’s not fit to be with,” declined Noky.
“We’d be honored if you’d let us support your effort to make known the need for more rummaging,” said Lunny as she felt for her money basket, grabbed the bills, then held them out. “It’s a contribution, not a handout. We’d also like to give you one of our pins. We intend for them to nudge niceness.”
Badly wanting to buy booze, Noky made a counter offer. “Will ya agree that the money is a loan to be paid back with interest?”
“We agree,” answered Lunny, not expecting to be repaid.
After taking the cash, Noky turned and started to leave.
“What about taking a niceness pin?” asked Renh.
“I’m not fit to wear it!” insisted Noky before continuing on his way with his head hung.
Once packed, Lunny slipped arms through backpack straps, then grabbed her cane with one hand and reached for Renh’s arm with the other. “Time for lunch,” she noted.
With Lunny in tow, Renh headed for a sandwich shop at the other end of the strip mall with Noky on her mind. “I haven’t heard the word rummy before,” she mentioned.
“It’s someone trying to ease his hurt with alcohol. I’m ashamed to admit I was somewhat glad he turned down our invitation to lunch. His dismay was painful to hear,” admitted Lunny.
“It was hard to see, too. Will he buy alcohol with the money?” wondered Renh.
“I’m afraid that’s likely,” answered Lunny.
“Seeing himself as a rummager rather than a beggar was important to him, wasn’t it?” asked Renh.
“Whether destitute or well-off or somewhere in-between, everyone sometimes settles for makeshift self-worth,” shared Lunny.
After Lunny and Renh ordered sandwiches and drinks, Lunny rose while asking the waitress for directions to the restroom. Once alone, Renh found herself listening to the conversation in the booth behind her.
“I have to go to the girl’s room,” said a teen, Ecin, who was the same age as Renh.
“Well, hurry up,” replied Ecin’s cranky foster mother, Marlue. Once Ecin was out of earshot, Marlue gripped to her friend, Harriet. “A month after I take Ecin in and a week before school starts up the principal tells me to tell the kid she’s gotta repeat eighth grade.”
Harriet was sympathetic. “That’s an ugly bombshell to have to pass on,” she replied.
“No way I’m doin’ their dirty work. The school people will haveta give Ecin the nasty news when the kid shows up tomorrow,” declared Marlue.
Fond of Ecin, but not wanting to cross Marlue, Harriet was brief. “Ecin is such a good kid. I kinda feel bad for her.”
“She betta stay a good kid. That includes gettin’ her fanny to school without fussin’,” grumbled Marlue.
“I guess you never know how damaged foster kids are gonna react,” replied Harriet, not wanting to irk her friend.
“Thinkin’ you don’t have to remind them you’re not puttin’ up with crap is a big mistake. . . . Where the heck is she? I’ve gotta drop you two off and do some errands,” said an agitated Marlue while twisting to search for Ecin.
Harriet handed Marlue cash, then stood while answering. “It’s a one-at-a-time bathroom. She likely had to wait. I’ll see if I can hurry her. We’ll meet you at the cash register.”
“All right,” said Marlue as she also rose.
Interested in seeing the ladies she’d been overhearing, Renh turned as they left.
Meanwhile, Lunny swung her walking cane into Renh’s leg. “Do I know you?” she asked.
“I’m afraid so,” chuckled Renh. “Our waitress is headed our way with the food,” she added as she again turned to watch a slender girl with long straight hair follow Harriet to the exit. She doesn’t seem likely to stand up for herself, thought Renh, noticing Ecin’s hunched shoulders.
“I’m hungry,” said Lunny as she lifted her sandwich.
Turning back toward Lunny, Renh expressed appreciation. “Seeing you treat Noky as you did was a lesson I’d never get at school.”
“Seeing ourselves trying to be nice is important,” noted Lunny.
Around suppertime, a loud rapping on the door of Marlue’s apartment brought Ecin from the kitchen, where she had been preparing dinner. Hurrying to the peephole, she saw her foster mother’s friend, Harriet, who lived across the street. “Hi,” greeted Ecin after opening the door and watching Harriet quickly enter.
“Do you know when Marlue is due?” asked Harriet, moving into the middle of the living room while nervously curling bleached hair with a finger.
“No,” answered Ecin.
“I’ll wait. I gotta warn her about maniac-man next door to me,” informed Harriet. “When I heard his dog squealin’ longer than usual yesterday, I foolishly stuck my head out my backdoor long enough to see maniac-man’s knee on the dog’s neck. He spotted me and got off a don’t-mess-with-me stare before I could yank my noggin back into the kitchen,” she detailed.
“Isn’t it good that Mr. Shapper knows people are watching him?” asked Ecin.
Harriet folded arms as she moved closer to Ecin. “Are you kiddin’? Maniac-man beat the dog worse after seein’ me bein’ nosy!” she recalled.
“Somebody has to do something!” declared Ecin.
“Like who? Not the police! After somebody called them yesterday, all that happened was maniac-man blamed me for being a buttinsky,” whined Harriet.
“What did he say?” asked Ecin.
“Nothing, buy then I went to open my car door a little while ago, I got a gross surprise. Maniac-man had tucked a gob of dog poop under the handle. I came over to tell Marlue and you not to even glance Shapper’s way,” explained Harriet while pacing.
Feeling guilty, Ecin started to admit she’d been the one to call the police. “I need to tell you something,” she began.
Further rattled upon glancing out the window and catching Shapper storm from his back door, Harriet stepped back. “Maniac-man’s on the warpath again! He’s goin’ after the dog!”
Rushing to the window, Ecin watched the dog seek refuge by hurrying into its doghouse. “Please don’t hurt him!” she pleaded out loud.
“Get the heck away from the window! . . . He’ll turn on you and Marlue. . . . Put on the radio so we don’t hear the mutt yowlin’ for mercy!” demanded Harriet.
Ecin froze.
“Hurry up and get some music jacked up!” shouted Harriet just before a wail by the dog produced a face scrunching wince from her and Ecin.
“I’m calling the police again!” exclaimed Ecin as she rushed into the kitchen to the phone.
The word again caught Harriet’s attention. “You’re the one who called yesterday!”
“Yes. I’ll tell the police to let Mr. Shapper know I’m the one who’s been reporting him,” said Ecin as she lifted the phone.
“You can’t turn maniac-man against yourself without turnin’ him against Marlue! If I let that happen, Marlue will never forgive me. Don’t you dare give your name!” ordered Harriet.
“OK, OK!” assured Ecin, just before another piercing yelp prompted Harriet to cover ears with hands. Hurrying to dial, Ecin was ready when the dispatcher answered. “Mr. Shapper, at 110 Lurlane Street, is abusing his dog, Bub, again. Please send someone right away!”
Two minutes later, a cruiser pulled up in front of Shapper’s house.
Harriet knelt next to the window, then peeked over the sill. “It’s all a show,” she pointed out as the dogcatcher van also arrived.
“Why don’t they talk to Mr. Shapper’s neighbors,” wondered Ecin.
“They don’t want a reason to have to remove the dog. They’re afraid of maniac-man,” assured Harriet.
Sure enough, the officers left within five minutes without Bub.
Harriet was incensed. “I told you they wouldn’t do anything! Remember, we’re gonna warn Marlue about Shapper, but we’re not lettin’ her know you called the police!”
“OK,” replied a disheartened Ecin as she went to the kitchen to resume her mealtime chores.
After entering the school grounds wearing her backpack the next morning, Renh spotted Ecin standing in the middle of a single-file line that extended to the door of a modular classroom. Hurrying to the end of the line, Renh asked the boy in front of her if he was a ninth grader. When he said yes, Renh knew that Ecin still hadn’t been told she’d be repeating the eighth grade.
As was usual for Ecin, she tipped her head forward when among classmates. Not watching the friendliness enjoyed by others made getting snubbed less hurtful. Unfortunately, looking down didn’t deter the dreadful news about to arrive.
Marching toward Ecin’s backside was Mrs. Lith—the middle-aged, no-nonsense principal. Once within reach of Ecin, the tall, slender woman extended arms, then dropped hands onto Ecin’s shoulders.
Startled by Mrs. Lith’s firm grasp, Ecin submitted to being steered to the back of a nearby line—the one for eighth graders.
“Repeating the eighth grade is what’s best,” declared Mrs. Lith.
Mortified, Ecin dropped chin to chest.
“I assume your foster mother didn’t inform you of the decision,” noted the principal as she buttoned her brown pants suit jacket before planting hands on hips.
Still taken aback by what was happening, Ecin again looked downward as the principal dashed toward a commotion occurring in another line.
It didn’t take long for several ninth graders to snicker while pointing Ecin’s way. Wishing she was anywhere but school, Ecin closed , leaving her unable to see Renh leave the ninth grade line and scoot behind her.
“Hi, I’m Renh—a new student. I guess wearing a backpack is a no-no, said Renh, aware no one else was wearing one.
Slowly turning, Ecin faintly replied. “Hi, I’m Ecin.”
Renh was blunt. “You have a right to be bummed. The whole deal coming your way is a sham!”
Dejected, Ecin put herself down. “Only dopes repeat a grade,” she claimed.
After running hands through hair, Renh clutched her backpack’s straps. “They’re hoodwinking you. The school-year do-over is for them, not you.”
Ecin shrugged before Renh continued.
“Blindsiding you while you’re in line on the first day is so messed up! Yesterday, while you were in the restaurant’s restroom, I overheard your foster mother’s friend say you’re a good person. Good people sometimes get treated unfairly,” she assured before spotting the principal charging toward them.
Mrs. Lith pounced. “Because I don’t recognize you, I’m assuming you’re the new girl, Renh Kalen. Am I right?”
“Yes,” answered Renh.
“You’re a ninth grader, which means you’re in the wrong line,” informed Mrs. Lith.
Renh didn’t budge. “I have an urgent request that involves Ecin. Can we talk with you?” she politely asked.
Mrs. Lith glanced at her wristwatch, then poked the girls in the back. “Both of you to my office,” she ordered, just before a loud bell started the school day.
After telling Ecin and Renh to sit in the chairs in front of her desk, Mrs. Lith sat rigid in her leather throne. “What’s going on, Renh?” she asked with a frown.
“I’d like to request a one-month trial run, during which Ecin and I help each other as ninth graders,” answered Renh, again gripping her backpack straps.
Flustered by Renh’s answer, Mrs. Lith turned to face Ecin. “How long have you known each other, Ecin?”
“We just met,” anxiously answered Ecin.
“You met while in line!” testily said the principal.
“Yes,” replied Ecin.
Not used to being challenged, Mrs. Lith narrowed eyes, then resumed grilling Renh. “I’m not sure what your problem is, Renh, but I am sure we don’t do trial-runs at this school. Don’t make me regret doing your grandmother a favor by letting you start today.”
“While I don’t want to be seen as pesky, I hope you’ll reconsider,” said Renh as she casually lifted palms. “You see, my problem is it seems a concern for letter grades and grade levels has been made more important than Ecin’s niceness,” explained Renh.
Annoyed, Mrs. Lith began tapping her index finger. “Like other schools, we focus on advancing academic skills. Students learn about subjects, such as math, science and history, that have withstood the test of time.”
Renh briefly looked out the window before speaking. “Why not make room for a subject that teaches good ways for people to treat each other.”
“We have rules for character building,” noted the principal.
“Isn’t exploring how to be kind and fair also an important subject?” posed Renh.
Mrs. Lith checked her watch, then became impatient. “Our chat is over! It’s time for Ecin’s an eighth grader and you’re a ninth grader, Renh.”
Remaining courteous, Renh repeated the request she’d already made. “Please give Ecin and me a month in the ninth grade to show we can help each other keep up.”
Mrs. Lith remained stern. “We’re done!” she firmly declared.
“Do I need a pass?” asked Ecin while standing.
After Mrs. Lith handed each of the girls a pass, Ecin quickly left the principal’s office while Renh lingered at the door.
Alone with Renh, the principal further expressed her displeasure. “I’ll be watching you,” she warned with a scowl.
Renh turned toward the principal. “I hope the school doesn’t take Ecin’s niceness from her,” she replied before entering the hall, where she looked for a rear exit. Soon finding one, she strolled to and through it.
After slogging her way to Lunny, who was in the midst of a lull in customers, she didn’t make excuses. “After I bungled trying to be helpful to another student, all I could think about was escape.”
“I just got off the phone with the principal,” said Lunny, halting her work on a pin.
“I’m guessing Mrs. Lith didn’t say anything about Ecin—a good-natured girl who was being treated unfairly,” predicted Renh as she sat on the bench next to Lunny.
“She wasn’t part of the principal’s version,” said Lunny.
“Getting on the wrong side of the school’s principal isn’t smart, is it?” admitted Renh.
“Mrs. Lith doesn’t seem like a live-and-let-live kind of gal,” agreed Lunny.
Renh became worried. “Do you think she’s going to make trouble?”
“After I mentioned we’d likely return to homeschooling, she said there were hoops we have to jump through lickety-split. When I reminded her I was blind and without a working vehicle, I got silence rather than sympathy,” informed Lunny.
“I’ll be 16 and able to quit school in January. Why can’t the school people leave us alone?” complained Renh.
Lunny shook her head slowly. “I guess we better get the RV running in case we have to disappear in a jiffy.”
Renh went to Lunny’s display. “While you sell here, I want to sell at a park I passed.”
Uncomfortable with Renh selling on her own, Lunny reluctantly agreed. “Just the park, and stay in the open.”
“OK,” assured Renh as she grabbed a large handful of pins.
“I can get home on my own. Before I get started, dial the principal so that I can tell her you came to me,” said Lunny.
After having no luck selling pins throughout the morning and early afternoon, Renh met with good fortune. A group of young mothers, who entered the park together, approached. After they heard that Renh’s blind grandmother had designed the eye-catching pins, the mothers quickly purchased all but the one Renh was wearing.
Anxious to tell Lunny of her success, Renh started from the park. But after walking only a short distance, she heard her name called out. Finding the voice familiar, she turned and saw Ecin coming toward her.
“Can we talk?” asked Ecin.
“Sure. But please don’t ruin my good mood by telling me Mrs. Lith made trouble for you,” answered Renh.
“Not for me, but what about you?” asked Ecin as they sat on a nearby bench.
“Mrs. Lith called my grandmother, Lunny—the adult I live and travel with. Lunny told the principal I’d be homeschooled,” shared Renh.
“Do you travel a lot?” asked Ecin.
“We chase mild weather so that we don’t bake or freeze in the RV we live in. Lunny says we’re ‘nomads nudging toward niceness on next to nothing.'”
“How do you get money to live?” asked Ecin.
“We get by on Lunny’s government check and by selling pins like the one I’m wearing. I just sold a bunch to some generous mothers.”
“It’s pretty,” complimented Ecin while bending to get a closer look at the pin Renh was wearing.
“Would you like it?” offered Renh.
“I don’t have any money,” answered Ecin.
“I’d like you to have it,” said Renh as she removed the pin.
“Thanks,” gratefully said Ecin, immediately attaching the brooch to her blouse.
“Lunny made it. Though she’s blind, each one she turns out is a tiny work of art,” noted Renh.
“How does she tell the colors apart?” wondered Ecin.
“I put knots on one end of the gimp. One knot for red, two for blue, and so on. We call them niceness pins. We hope wearing one reminds people to be nice,” explained Renh.
“If Lunny’s blind, you must be the one driving the RV,” assumed Ecin.
“Her blindness allowed me to get a hardship driver’s license,” said Renh.
“You tangled with Mrs. Lith and you drive an RV. I wish I had your courage. . . . There’s something I badly want to do, but I don’t have the nerve,” bemoaned Ecin.
“You have me curious,” prodded Renh.
Comfortable with Renh, Ecin divulged what was troubling her. “I want to steal an abused dog that lives across the street from me. I’ve called the police twice, but all they do is come by and chat with Bub’s abusive owner, Mr. Shapper. Anyway, even if I did steal Bub, I don’t have a place to bring him.”
“You want to rescue, not steal, the dog. That’s how to think about it,” suggested Renh.
“One thing is for sure: I’m afraid of Mr. Shapper. He always looks angry. Just seeing him in his yard makes my heart race,” shared Ecin.
Renh perked up. “You need a nudge from someone itching to do a big-time kindness. Is Bub outside at night?”
“No. He’s only outside during the day—when the Shappers are at work,” answered Ecin.
“So, Bub’s outside and alone right now. Let’s go!” said Renh as she sprang to her feet.
“You mean go get Bub right now!” exclaimed Ecin, clutching shins.
“I’ll strut on and off the property as if I’d been given the task of taking Bub for a walk,” planned Renh.
“But where will we take Bub?” asked Ecin while rising.
“I’ll hide him in the RV for now,” answered Renh.
Ecin paused to fill her lungs, then, after exhaling heartily, she made her own daring announcement. “I’d like to strut with you.”
“Are you sure?” asked Renh as they began the trek to Shapper’s house.
“I’m suddenly also itching to do a big-time kindness!” answered Ecin, sensing a boost in self-esteem was possible.
“OK, we’ll strut together. There’s a market up ahead, where we can buy a leash and some dog biscuits,” said Renh.
After exiting the store, Renh tucked the leash in a rear pocket and put the bag of biscuits in her backpack. “How much farther is it?” she asked.
“It’s the next left,” answered Ecin.
Soon next to a large elm tree across the street from Shapper’s house, Ecin became nervous. “I doubt a neighbor will report us, but I can’t be sure,” she warned.
Renh heard the tremble in Ecin’s voice. “I’ve been pushy; it’s OK to change your mind,” she assured.
“How do you keep your nerve?” asked Ecin.
“I remember that when I let trying to be kind or fair matter most, Renhville is a respectable and serene place to be. But what works for me may not work for you. If you’d like to wait here, that’s OK with me.”
Ecin paused to take another deep breath, then gave the green light. “I’m ready!”
While surveying Shapper’s property, Renh altered their plan. “Now that I see the situation, I’m not so nervy. I think we should approach from the far side of the backyard. We’ll squeeze through the row of bushes close to the doghouse.”
Once they’d crept around a home the next street over, the girls knelt behind the shrubs close to Bub. “Give me the leash and a biscuit,” requested Ecin. Once Renh did so, Ecin took a shoulder-bobbing breath, then thrust through the shrubs and called the dog while holding out the food. “Here, Bub! Here, boy!”
As soon as Bub hurried to the treat, Ecin replaced the rope attached to his collar with the leash they’d bought. Then, just as she was about to take Bub from his prison, Ecin saw exactly what she didn’t want to see: Mr. Shapper’s shiny black pickup come into view. Able to bring Bub to the other side of the shrubs before the truck turned into the driveway, she alerted Renh. “Mr. Shapper just got home. Let’s scoot!”
After scampering to a wooded lot four houses down, they paused behind a large pine. “I’m tired of being afraid,” said Ecin as she handed the leash to Renh, then shared a decision that took gumption. “Mr. Shapper’s likely searching for Bub. So, I’m going back to try to send him in the wrong direction. If I succeed, you should have the time you need to get to your RV. When you climb over the mound up ahead, you’ll be facing Valley Road. Turn a right on it and you’ll soon see the RV park,” she explained while pointing in the direction of a knoll.
“Facing Shapper is very brave, Ecin,” said Renh as she took a pen and a piece of paper from the front pouch of her backpack, then wrote down Lunny’s phone number and handed the paper to Ecin. “Please call as soon as you can. If I’m not there, tell Lunny about the rescue and how things went for you.”
“OK,” said Ecin as she knelt to hug Bub, then rose to embrace Renh.
It didn’t take long for Ecin to spot Shapper’s pickup headed her way. While watching him roll down his window as he came to a stop, she gave herself a pep talk. “You can do this,” she told herself as she rubbed wet palms on thighs.
“Have you seen a brown lab runnin’ lose?” gruffly inquired Shapper as Ecin approached.
Ecin came to a halt. “Yes, I saw him dart down Mell Road,” she fibbed, hoping her jitters didn’t make him suspicious.
Finding it easy to be intimidating, Shapper glared into Ecin’s eyes for a long few seconds before ramming his gearshift in reverse. Unaware he’d been misled, he turned his pickup around, then headed farther away from Renh and Bub.
Once the truck faded from sight, Ecin hurried home. “I did it!” she happily declared.
Eventually making her way back to the RV, Renh announced her arrival. “It’s me. I brought a doggy friend called Bub,” she called out as she tossed her backpack on the driver’s seat while looking Lunny’s way.
“Ecin called. After relaying what the two of you have been up to, she asked me to let you know that, after sending Mr. Shapper on a wild-goose chase, Ecinville was a respectable and serene place to be,” informed Lunny.
Happy to hear what Ecin had said, Renh smiled. “Thanks for the good news. You’ll be hearing me feed Bub,” noted Renh while pulling the bag of biscuits from her backpack as Bub sniffed his way to Lunny. “How was your afternoon?” she asked, mindful she should have checked with Lunny before bringing Bub home.
Lunny answered while petting Bub. “Oh, just peachy. Mrs. Lith called back to tell me she felt she had to call the truant officer. Shortly after that, a police officer stopped by to let me know the town considers us to be panhandlers who don’t qualify for a peddler’s permit, which means we get a hefty fine the next time we’re caught selling pins. Topping things off, my granddaughter brought home a dog she and a friend rescued from an abusive owner who’s hunting the dog down,” summed up Lunny.
“I guess I got carried away again,” confessed Renh as she feed Bub.
Though Lunny was concerned, her tone was gentle. “Given what Ecin told me about Mr. Shapper, I’d say Bub urgently needs something we urgently need: a fresh start.”
After flopping onto her bunk, Renh tried to be humorous. “It seems the three of us have a percolating pesky predicament.”
“That’s an entertaining way to describe our situation, Renh. Here’s a not so amusing reminder: The money to fix the RV won’t be in my account until next Monday.”
“We’ll find a way to get by,” assured Renh.
“I have about 15 dollars for meals. How much do you have?” asked Lunny.
Renh hesitantly answered. “I sold all the pins I took, but I spent some of the money on a leash and dog food.”
After a long sigh, Lunny expressed admiration. “You made niceness important, Renh.”
Having wolfed down the huge bowl of food Renh had given him, Bub poked at her backpack in search of a second helping.
“Lifting her sack to give Bub more food let Renh spot a folded paper with Lunny’s name on it. “It looks like somebody put a note for you on the driver’s seat while we were out today.”
“Please read it out loud,” requested Lunny.
“OK,” said Renh as she put her sack on a shelf, then opened the paper and read what follows out loud: “‘While rummaging, I happened upon an alternator and a battery, which I put in the RV to pay you back. Thanks for the badly needed loan! . . . It’s from Noky.'”
A family of three headed west out of town. Just as they were about to cross the town’s border, something caught Renh’s eye. “There’s a reminder of Noky up ahead. It’s a place called The Rummage Remedy. It looks like a big junk yard.”
“Pull in, Renh,” said Lunny as she reached into her sack for a niceness pin. As soon Renh came to a stop, Lunny rolled down her window and called out. “Hello!”
“How can I help you, ma’am?” asked a worker in overalls as he exited a cinder block building with a high fence extending from its sides.
“I’m looking for Noky,” answered Lunny.
“Noky usually shows up unexpected, but he’ll be back tomorrow to work off what he owes me for an alternator and a battery. I’m guessing it’s your RV he worked on,” said the fellow.
“Yes,” answered Lunny.
“Because he borrowed a tool that got him into your RV, I figure his intention was to surprise you. If you’re still havin’ a problem, I’d like to help. I bought this place when a personal tragedy nose-dived Noky into bankruptcy and homelessness,” informed the fellow.
“Everything is working fine. Because we have to leave town in a hurry, we’d greatly appreciate it if you’d thank him for us,” asked Lunny.
“Sure,” said the fellow.
“One last thing. Please give him this pin. Tell him the RV gals said he’s as fit as anyone to wear it,” requested Lunny as she handed the man the pin.
“OK,” said the fellow while reaching for the gimp flower.
Once again headed down the highway with Bub between her and Lunny, Renh was cheerful. “Three ‘nomads nudging toward niceness on next to nothing.’ Sounds like the ideal job description to me,” she announced.
“To me, too!” said Lunny as she turned her head toward their new companion. “Do you agree, Bub?”
“Ruff! ruff!” quickly replied Bub before licking Lunny on the cheek, prompting her to hug him.
1. Why do you think Lunny gave Noky money, even though she believed he’d likely use it to buy alcohol?
2. Why did Noky need to see himself as a rummager rather than a beggar?
3. Was Lunny fit to homeschool Renh? Why or why not?
4. Why was sending Mr. Shapper in the wrong direction important to Ecin?
5. Should or shouldn’t kindness and fairness be taught like regular subjects in schools? Explain your answer.
6. Is wearing a niceness pin a good idea? Why or why not?