Neil Armstrong Is My Uncle Read Online Free PDF

way.” I kick my foot into the ground to emphasize my point.
    A large chunk of sod comes flying off the lawn. There is a big brown spot where the grass should be. Mr. Grabowsky’s perfect lawn is ruined.
    â€œLook what you did!” MaryBeth glances toward her front door and back at the spot in the middle of the grass. The other kids gather around it. The way everyone is staring, you’d think the hole was as big as the Grand Canyon.
    I pick up the sod, and I’m surprised at how heavy it is. The chunk in my hands is pretty big.
    Muscle Man moves the dirt around. “I’m an expert gardener. Give the sod to me. I’ll fix it. No one will ever know.”
    â€œNice going, Tamara,” says Billy Rattle. “You messed up the lawn.” He jingles the change in his pockets. “Come on everyone, let’s get back to the gripes. I’m ready to vote.”
    I don’t stay around while Billy Rattle, Muscle Man McGinty, and the others on Ramble Street decide my fate. I run away, taking the chunk of sod with me, leaving the others to gape at the big brown spot in the middle of Mr. Grabowsky’s lawn.

Chapter Eight
The Fourth of July
    â€œH EY M USCLE M AN,” I grunt. It kills me to say hello to the kid, but I have no choice. I’ve been standing alone at the Fourth of July barbeque for over an hour now. No one else is talking to me.
    â€œWhy hello, Tammy.” A stupid grin is smashed across his face. “This is a real nice party. Don’t you think?”
    I shrug. Billy Rattle’s parents always have a July 4 th barbeque. To me, it looks the same as last year’s and the year before that. A bunch of neighbors. Hamburgers. Hot Dogs. Sparklers. Mr. Rattle’s accordion playing. Pretty standard stuff.
    â€œIs MaryBeth still mad at me?” I ask, even though I’m not sure why I care. I did nothing wrong, and she’s just being stupid.
    â€œOh gosh, I hope not,” he says.
    A group of neighbors on the other side of the yard is getting ready to do the bunny hop. MaryBeth Grabowsky is in the middle of the crowd, jumping up and down, practicing her bunny steps. I try to catch her eye.
    When she sees me, she throws me a dirty look and hops to the other side of the line.
    â€œDid you play kickball today?” I ask.
    Muscle Man nods. “It wasn’t the same without you, Tammy. Too bad you couldn’t play.”
    I wonder if Muscle Man is rubbing it in. It’s not like I didn’t want to play. As I expected, I was banned.
    â€œWhat happened with Big Danny?” I ask. “Was he banned too?”
    â€œTwo days, same as you, and a few kids called him a thief.”
    I shake my head. “Big Danny is not a thief.”
    â€œFor the record, when we voted about you, I voted to let you play,” says Muscle Man. “After all, you were the one who gave me my name.”
    For a moment, I’m not sure if he means it or if he’s being sarcastic. “You like your name?”
    â€œSure.” He nods. “I think it fits me good.”
    In truth, I think it fits him too. But not in the same way he does. After all, what else can you call a kid who goes around bragging that he’s the bravest, smartest, strongest, fastest person who ever graced the planet?
    â€œThey’ll let you play tomorrow. You were only banned for two days,” he says.
    â€œYeah, you know how it is when they ban you. It never lasts for long,” I say.
    Muscle Man nods, and I realize that this is another one of his falsehoods. The kid has no idea of what I’m talking about. As far as I know, Muscle Man McGinty has never gotten ousted from a kickball game. Not even once.
    And on Ramble Street, that is something to brag about.
    Muscle Man turns to leave, but I step in front of him. “Just a minute. You never told me what happened with the letter. Did you hear anything?”
    Muscle Man ignores me. He waves hello to Mrs. Murphy,