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Egghead (Graded Reader), Chapter 5. Tom’s Story

Chapter 5. Tom's Story

The next morning I got up early to speak to Tom. I had a lot of questions.

‘Why do you call me Cherub?' I asked.

‘It means little angel.'

‘I'm no angel. The other children at school always call me names. But not nice names like that.'

‘What do they call you then?' asked Tom.

‘Egghead mostly.'

‘Egghead. I see. Well, what's wrong with that name?'

I started to explain, but he soon stopped me. ‘I've never noticed that. That's not important. But Egghead means something else.'

‘What does it mean?' I asked.

‘It means clever, really clever. It's a good word for you. You seem like a very clever boy to me.'

I didn't know that Egghead had two meanings. Clever! Me! Clever?

‘Of course you're clever,' said Andrew. ‘You're good at your schoolwork. You always answer the teacher's questions. In fact, school work is quite easy for you.'

‘Thank you Andrew,' I said silently.

I said goodbye to Tom and promised to see him the next day. I went to school feeling much happier.

At school that day, there was a French test. All the children had to recite the verb, to be. I knew all the answers. ‘Je suis, Tu es, Il est.' I looked around the class. Kevin and Clive weren't doing very well. They started to move their mouth up and down but you could tell that they didn't really know the answers. Maybe Tom was right. I am quite clever.

Every morning I went to speak to Tom. And every morning we had a really nice chat. It made me feel much better about going to school.

One day Tom said to me, ‘Michael, does it make you sad when the children call you names?'

‘Yes, it does,' I answered. ‘It hurts me inside. It makes me feel alone. I've got a friend, David – he knows how I feel, he's my only real friend at school.'

‘You know,' said Tom. ‘These children who call you names don't really know you. You shouldn't worry about what they say.'

‘But it's difficult not to worry, and feel sad' I said.

‘Just remember, they don't know you,' said Tom. ‘So, if they don't know you, what they say isn't important. Don't

let it hurt you inside. Remember, everybody who cares about you, and knows you, your mum and dad, David, and me, don't call you names. The others aren't important.'

‘But they're so horrible to me.'

‘Well, just try and remember what I said, then you'll feel better. You'll see. I know it's difficult to understand, but let me tell you a story. See that house there?

‘Which one? That one?' I asked, pointing to the house across the street.

‘Yes, that one. Well, during the war, a bomb fell on that house and I went in. It was on fire. People were frightened. There were three children. I got them out. They were alive. They're older now. They've moved on, to a different place. All the people I knew have all gone. Moved away to new lives. Nobody remembers me. I don't know most of the people who live here now. It's nice to see a friendly face like yours.' ‘Wow!' I said. That's all I could say. It was incredible. I didn't know anything about this. ‘People should know about things like this,' I said. ‘Why don't they know? You're a hero.'

‘People don't want to know about the past,' said

Tom. ‘They're too busy with their lives to worry about me. They just think I'm a useless old man. But I don't get angry about it. The people who live here now don't know me. So, how can I be angry with them?'

‘Well,' I thought, ‘if Tom can do that why can't I? At least I can try.'

That day at school, I had a swimming lesson. I like swimming. The other kids bullied me, as always, ‘Eggheads can't swim, their heads are too big,' was what they said. But when I'm swimming I can put my head under the water. It's so quiet there. I can see all the arms and legs of the other boys, but I can't hear them. Under the water I thought of what Tom said to me. ‘They don't know me.'

When the lesson finished, I went into the changing room. The next class was getting ready to swim. When they saw me come in they started to sing,

‘THEY CALL HIM EGGHEAD, HE HAS THE BIGGEST HEAD YOU'VE EVER SEEN.'

I looked at them, and again I remembered what Tom said. I had my mum and my dad, Andrew, David and now Tom. They loved me.

For the first time I thought, ‘I don't need them. They can say what they want. I forgive them because they only have a photograph of me. They don't really know me, just like I didn't know Tom at first. They don't know the whole story.'

I smiled to myself. Then a strange thing happened.

The singing stopped.

I got dressed quickly. It was break time and I wanted to tell David what happened.

‘They stopped singing, you say?' said David.

‘Yes. I know they won't stop forever,' I said. ‘They never stop. But the important thing is, I don't care anymore. Try and do the same thing. That's all I'm saying.'

‘OK,' said David. ‘I'll try. But it's not going to be easy.'

After break time we had an English lesson. But we had quite a surprise. There was a new teacher. Her name was Mrs Hewitt. She had curly brown hair and a kind face. I knew I was going to like her a lot.

‘OK, class,' said Mrs Hewitt. I don't know you, and I want to learn something about you. That's why I want you to do some writing for me.'

‘Oh No!' said the class.

‘Oh yes,' said Mrs Hewitt. It's a good way to get to know you better. So I want you to write about an important person in your life. The best essay will get a prize.

‘What's the prize, Miss?' asked Sally.

‘He or she will read their essay in front of the school next week.'

I was very excited. This was the best prize ever. When school finished I wanted to speak to Andrew about it. ‘Just think, Andrew, to read my essay in front of the school. I'd really like that. If I win, I can tell everybody about a person who's important to me. Writing about somebody is like telling a story, don't you think? A story of their life. We all have a story, you know. It's just that often people don't want to hear it. But when they do, they realise how interesting it's.'

‘Yes, you're right Michael. We all have a story. Well, whose story do you want to tell? ' asked Andrew.

‘I'm not sure.' I said. ‘I have to think for a moment.'

‘Let's think together then,' said Andrew.

I sat on my bed with Andrew, and I thought about all the people I know. After two or three minutes, I had an idea. ‘I know who I can write about,' I said.

‘So do I,' said Andrew. Andrew and I thought of the same thing. We both thought of the same person. ‘I know Andrew,' I said. ‘I was thinking of him as well.' 'Let's write about him. I'll help you if you want,' said Andrew. Who was this person? I think you know.


Chapter 5. Tom's Story Kapitel 5. Toms Geschichte Capítulo 5. La historia de Tom Chapitre 5. L'histoire de Tom 第5章.トムの物語 Capítulo 5. A história do Tomás Глава 5. История Тома Bölüm 5. Tom'un Hikayesi Розділ 5. Історія Тома 第 5 章 汤姆的故事 第 5 章 湯姆的故事

The next morning I got up early to speak to Tom. I had a lot of questions.

‘Why do you call me Cherub?' I asked.

‘It means little angel.'

‘I'm no angel. The other children at school always call me names. But not nice names like that.'

‘What do they call you then?' asked Tom.

‘Egghead mostly.'

‘Egghead. I see. Well, what's wrong with that name?'

I started to explain, but he soon stopped me. ‘I've never noticed that. That's not important. But Egghead means something else.'

‘What does it mean?' I asked.

‘It means clever, really clever. It's a good word for you. You seem like a very clever boy to me.'

I didn't know that Egghead had two meanings. Clever! Me! Clever?

‘Of course you're clever,' said Andrew. ‘You're good at your schoolwork. You always answer the teacher's questions. In fact, school work is quite easy for you.'

‘Thank you Andrew,' I said silently.

I said goodbye to Tom and promised to see him the next day. I went to school feeling much happier.

At school that day, there was a French test. All the children had to recite the verb, to be. I knew all the answers. ‘Je suis, Tu es, Il est.' I looked around the class. Kevin and Clive weren't doing very well. They started to move their mouth up and down but you could tell that they didn't really know the answers. Maybe Tom was right. I am quite clever.

Every morning I went to speak to Tom. And every morning we had a really nice chat. It made me feel much better about going to school.

One day Tom said to me, ‘Michael, does it make you sad when the children call you names?'

‘Yes, it does,' I answered. ‘It hurts me inside. It makes me feel alone. I've got a friend, David – he knows how I feel, he's my only real friend at school.'

‘You know,' said Tom. ‘These children who call you names don't really know you. You shouldn't worry about what they say.'

‘But it's difficult not to worry, and feel sad' I said.

‘Just remember, they don't know you,' said Tom. ‘So, if they don't know you, what they say isn't important. Don't

let it hurt you inside. Remember, everybody who cares about you, and knows you, your mum and dad, David, and me, don't call you names. The others aren't important.'

‘But they're so horrible to me.'

‘Well, just try and remember what I said, then you'll feel better. You'll see. I know it's difficult to understand, but let me tell you a story. See that house there?

‘Which one? That one?' I asked, pointing to the house across the street.

‘Yes, that one. Well, during the war, a bomb fell on that house and I went in. It was on fire. People were frightened. There were three children. I got them out. They were alive. They're older now. They've moved on, to a different place. All the people I knew have all gone. Moved away to new lives. Nobody remembers me. I don't know most of the people who live here now. It's nice to see a friendly face like yours.' ‘Wow!' I said. That's all I could say. It was incredible. I didn't know anything about this. ‘People should know about things like this,' I said. ‘Why don't they know? You're a hero.'

‘People don't want to know about the past,' said

Tom. ‘They're too busy with their lives to worry about me. They just think I'm a useless old man. But I don't get angry about it. The people who live here now don't know me. So, how can I be angry with them?'

‘Well,' I thought, ‘if Tom can do that why can't I? At least I can try.'

That day at school, I had a swimming lesson. I like swimming. The other kids bullied me, as always, ‘Eggheads can't swim, their heads are too big,' was what they said. But when I'm swimming I can put my head under the water. It's so quiet there. I can see all the arms and legs of the other boys, but I can't hear them. Under the water I thought of what Tom said to me. ‘They don't know me.'

When the lesson finished, I went into the changing room. The next class was getting ready to swim. When they saw me come in they started to sing,

‘THEY CALL HIM EGGHEAD, HE HAS THE BIGGEST HEAD YOU'VE EVER SEEN.'

I looked at them, and again I remembered what Tom said. I had my mum and my dad, Andrew, David and now Tom. They loved me.

For the first time I thought, ‘I don't need them. They can say what they want. I forgive them because they only have a photograph of me. They don't really know me, just like I didn't know Tom at first. They don't know the whole story.'

I smiled to myself. Then a strange thing happened.

The singing stopped.

I got dressed quickly. It was break time and I wanted to tell David what happened.

‘They stopped singing, you say?' said David.

‘Yes. I know they won't stop forever,' I said. ‘They never stop. But the important thing is, I don't care anymore. Try and do the same thing. That's all I'm saying.'

‘OK,' said David. ‘I'll try. But it's not going to be easy.'

After break time we had an English lesson. But we had quite a surprise. There was a new teacher. Her name was Mrs Hewitt. She had curly brown hair and a kind face. I knew I was going to like her a lot.

‘OK, class,' said Mrs Hewitt. I don't know you, and I want to learn something about you. That's why I want you to do some writing for me.'

‘Oh No!' said the class.

‘Oh yes,' said Mrs Hewitt. It's a good way to get to know you better. So I want you to write about an important person in your life. The best essay will get a prize.

‘What's the prize, Miss?' asked Sally.

‘He or she will read their essay in front of the school next week.'

I was very excited. This was the best prize ever. When school finished I wanted to speak to Andrew about it. ‘Just think, Andrew, to read my essay in front of the school. I'd really like that. If I win, I can tell everybody about a person who's important to me. Writing about somebody is like telling a story, don't you think? A story of their life. We all have a story, you know. It's just that often people don't want to hear it. But when they do, they realise how interesting it's.'

‘Yes, you're right Michael. We all have a story. Well, whose story do you want to tell? ' asked Andrew.

‘I'm not sure.' I said. ‘I have to think for a moment.'

‘Let's think together then,' said Andrew.

I sat on my bed with Andrew, and I thought about all the people I know. After two or three minutes, I had an idea. ‘I know who I can write about,' I said.

‘So do I,' said Andrew. Andrew and I thought of the same thing. We both thought of the same person. ‘I know Andrew,' I said. ‘I was thinking of him as well.' 'Let's write about him. I'll help you if you want,' said Andrew. Who was this person? I think you know.