by Suzanne Purvis –
Martin Luther Lancelot Parks had a long name. But a very brave name. After all, his parents named him after not one, but two famous and courageous men in history.
His first two names were for Martin Luther King, the important and heroic civil rights leader. His third name was for the noble and brave knight of King Arthur’s Court, Sir Lancelot. Then his last name just happened to be the same as Rosa Parks, the fearless woman who would not ride in the back of the bus and her actions changed history.
Now, most of the time Martin Luther Lancelot Parks lived up to this bold and gallant name, except when it came to two things–bees and Fluffkins.
Martin could usually avoid bees, but Fluffkins was his neighbor’s dog. And he saw Fluffkins daily.
Don’t let the name fool you. Fluffkins is a beast.
Don’t let her fluffy, white fur, pink collar, or the polka dot bow on the top of her head fool you either.
Martin had seen Fluffkins scare off a Rottweiler, a dog four times her size.
He had seen Fluffkins chase the mail carrier over six blocks.
He had watched Fluffkins bite bicycle tires like they were donuts. And this is while they’re spinning. Fast. Downhill.
So that was why today, despite his heroic name, Martin Luther Lancelot Parks felt all his bravery sink into his toenails. He only hoped Claire Crenshaw didn’t notice.
He secretly liked Claire Crenshaw, and she stood beside him. Fluffkins, the beast from next door, stood in front of him. The thin screen door was the only thing separating them.
“What a cute doggie,” Claire said.
“GRRRRRRRR,” the beast snarled.
“Ah. She’s so sweet,” Claire said.
Martin sometimes thought girls could be dumb. This was one of those times. But Martin wanted to impress Claire. He only hoped he lived long enough do to it. She wanted to see his treehouse, which lay on the other side of the yard, past Fluffkins.
Martin sucked in a big breath hoping for some gutsy, daring air to fill his lungs.
It must have worked because he unfroze himself and cracked open the screen door. But the three brownies he’d polished off while sitting with Claire at the table, (okay, he might’ve been stalling) forced him to open the door wider.
“GRRRRRRRRRRRR,” the beast growled louder and longer.
Martin took a fearless step onto the back porch. (Okay, Claire might’ve pushed him.)
Then Claire bent down, her hand outstretched toward the beast’s fangs. “Come here sweetie pie,” she said.
That’s when Fluffkins laid her ears flat on her head. Like she had when she’d scared off the Rottweiler.
Then Fluffkins growled low in her throat. Like she had when she’d chased the mail carrier.
And Fluffkins hunched low. Like she had when she’d lunged at the bike tires.
Courage surged from somewhere. (Probably Martin’s toenails.) He grabbed Claire’s hand and leapt off the porch. Like Spiderman, minus the webbing.
“UMPH.” Martin and Claire landed crumpled, on the grass.
Fluffkins sailed after them. Her polka dot bow flapping like bat wings.
Martin rolled, heroically pushing Claire out of danger.
Fluffkins landed. Smack, on his chest. Sharp claws pressed into his thin T-shirt. Beady eyes bore into his. The fluffy tail whipped faster than spinning helicopter blades.
Martin swallowed panic and the upchucking brownies. Time to show Fluffkins and Claire who was top dog. Martin bared his teeth and snarled, “You picked the wrong guy to mess with Fluffkins. My name is Martin Luther Lancelot Parks and I’m braver than all my namesakes put together.”
He thought he heard Claire snort. But he didn’t dare break eye contact with the beast.
The air sizzled. Time slowed. Then Fluffkins’ jaws widened.
Spit, fangs, and foul hot breath oozed over Martin’s face.
He shut his eyes. He felt something wet on his neck. Could it be blood?
SLURP. SLURP.
Not blood. Dog drool. “Yuck,” Martin said.
By the time he got the slobbering beast off, Claire was at his back gate.
“See ya, Martin,” she called.
“What about my treehouse?” he asked.
“Maybe another day. I hear Oliver got a new rabbit.” The gate clicked. Claire was gone.
Martin shook his head. Hadn’t Claire just witnessed his awesome bravery?
He climbed the ladder to the treehouse. Girls can be so dumb.
He sat down with his back against the tree trunk surveying his domain like a king. He might not have impressed Claire, but today Martin Luther Lancelot Parks had proved to himself he was as brave as his name.
Until he heard, “BZZZ BZZZZ BZZZZ.”
the end.
Question Time
- Who is Martin named after?
- What are the two things Martin is afraid of?
- What happened when he Martin ran outside?
- What did Claire do?
