Travels with my Family Read Online Free PDF Page A

and some of my cereal ended up on the floor.
    â€œYou don’t have to feed the peacocks, kids. All that granola’s not good for them anyway! Ajax, Olive, get out of there!” George laughed.
    I never knew that farmers kept their livestock in the kitchen.
    There was an uproar under the table as the peacocks fought over the granola. My little brother sat stiffly on his chair, with both legs folded tightly underneath him, trying to stay out of the battle. Now if only Miro were there. He would have protected us from the birds. At least I think so.
    Just then, the phone rang.
    â€œGeorge, it’s for you!” yelled a shrill voice.
    George went to answer the phone.
    â€œHello? Hello?” he shouted into the phone. Then he slammed it down.
    A minute later he returned with a large gray parrot perched on his shoulder. He looked more like a pirate than a farmer.

    â€œConfounded bird!” he mumbled to himself. The peacocks looked offended and walked out of the room. Maybe they thought he was talking about them.
    But George was talking about Tuco — that was the parrot’s name. Tuco could imitate ringing telephones and voices. He loved playing tricks, and George fell for them every time.
    â€œConfounded bird!” squawked Tuco.
    â€œDoes he repeat everything?” my brother asked.
    â€œDoes he repeat everything?” squawked Tuco.
    My brother gave the parrot a nasty look, because nobody likes being imitated. We soon learned that Tuco knew a lot of words. But I can’t repeat them here.
    In the country, there’s supposed to be peace and quiet. Well, the peace and quiet lasted another minute or two, until George looked out the front window.
    â€œJackson!” he shouted.
    Then he ran out the door with Tuco clinging to his shoulder, squawking, “Jackson! Jackson! Jackson!”
    â€œWho’s Jackson?” my little brother asked.
    â€œI don’t know.” I took a quick look under the table. The coast was clear. “So far, we’ve seen a raven, a parrot and some peacocks. Maybe Jackson is a penguin. Let’s go see.”
    My brother jumped up and ran outside, a big smile on his face. Penguins, as you know, are his favorite birds.
    We made it outside without being attacked by the peacocks. We passed the garden, then went along the driveway. I saw something large and black galloping down the middle of the dirt road that ran in front of the farm.
    So that was Jackson — he was a horse. And George was running after him, waving his arms.
    Jackson the horse liked to play games, just like Tuco did. He pretended to be very interested in eating the grass by the side of the road. But every time George got close, and tried to grab him to take him back to the meadow on the other side of the fence, he galloped three or four steps farther on, and went back to eating some more grass.
    Little by little, we were exploring the whole island, in slow motion, with Jackson leading the way, and George, Tuco, my brother and I following in single file.
    â€œHe was a circus horse,” George told us. “When he retired, we took him in.”
    â€œWhat did he do in the circus?” asked my brother.
    â€œHe was a clown,” George answered. “He still thinks he’s pretty funny.”
    I wondered how George knew what his horse was thinking. Maybe you learned that in farm school.
    â€œMaybe he thinks he’s still in the circus,” my brother suggested.
    â€œThis is a circus,” George declared. “The whole farm is a circus, starring Jackson the Horse.”
    â€œAnd Tuco!” the parrot added loudly.
    After a while, Jackson decided it was time to be caught. He probably wanted to eat something else, like oats, or apples. Grass must get pretty boring after a while. George took his bridle and we all walked down the dirt road, back to the farm.
    There, we saw another strange sight.
    â€œWhat on earth is your mother doing?”
    We