The Battle for the Castle Read Online Free PDF Page B

slowly raised the portcullis. “Twelve is too old and forty-two is just the right age,” he said with a grin. “Where’s that one knight you used to have?”
    â€œHe’s gone,” William said. “He marched off one day to do battle against an evil wizard.”
    â€œDid he win?”
    â€œYes. With a little help from a friend.”
    William glanced at his father. They often had these weird, sideways conversations. Why aren’t you like Jason’s father? he wanted to say. Why don’t you coach me in something?
    â€œDad, I’m going to quit gymnastics soon. I’m sick of it. Why did you make me do it in the first place? It’s a wimpy sport.”
    â€œDid I make you do it?” his father asked. “I don’t remember that. You and Mrs. Phillips came up with the idea because you were small and wiry the way a gymnast is supposed to be. You still are.”
    â€œI don’t like it,” William said. “I’m too short.”
    â€œFor what?”
    â€œFor anything. Basketball. Jumping. Life.”
    His father lifted one roof section, peered around, and set it back in place. “I never heard of anybody being too short for life,” he said thoughtfully.
    William groaned. His father didn’t even argue right. He always got off the point. He should say things like, “Son, I don’t care what you say, I want you to do such and such,” and “Don’t you speak to me like that, son, or you’ll be in big trouble.” That’s what Jason’s father would say.
    â€œI hear somebody downstairs,” his father said. “You don’t suppose it’s Jason do you?”
    â€œI guess so,” William said.
    â€œHe’s making a terrible racket.”
    When William got downstairs, he found Jason with his bike halfway up the kitchen steps. He was swearing and muttering under his breath.
    â€œYou should have used the front staircase,” William said as he clattered down to help him. “That’s what I did. It’s wider.”
    â€œThe stupid pedal keeps whacking me in the leg. Now that I’m up this far, I’m not going down again.”
    William took the handlebars and backed up the steps while Jason wrestled with the bottom half of the bike. William’s father met them in the upstairs hallway.
    â€œOh, gee, hi, Mr. Lawrence,” Jason said, shooting a look of surprise at William.
    â€œHello, Jason. Perhaps you two should consider starting a bicycle-moving business. Of course I don’t know if you’d find enough people who’d be interested in having their bicycles hauled around their houses.” He held open the attic door. “However, it’s a possibility. You know, in the winter. Boys, take my bike up to the attic, will you? Now that it’s snowing, I think it’s time to put it up on blocks.”
    â€œHey, Dad.”
    â€œYes, William?”
    â€œYou’re talking a lot.”
    â€œYes, William.”
    As the boys made their way up to the attic, Mr. Lawrencewatched from below. “I’m going to head back to work. See you later, boys.”
    â€œYeah,” William said. “Bye, Dad.” As he watched his father’s back disappear, he had a sudden urge to run after him and clap him on the shoulder or something. Just for a minute. Just when he remembered he wouldn’t be seeing him for a while. But he didn’t do it. Jason was watching.
    â€œYour father’s weird,” Jason said.
    â€œI know. But at least he didn’t hassle us about the bikes. My mother would have killed me.”
    â€œYeah, mine too.” Jason moved his bike over so that it faced the castle entrance. “I’ve got to go down and get the rest of my stuff.”
    â€œWhat stuff?” William asked.
    â€œMy bike gear. And some food. I’m not taking any chances. Roasted mice or fried bugs are not good for muscle