Ogle - Free Lunch

FREE
LUNCH

REX OGLE

Norton Young Readers

An Imprint of W.W. Norton & Company

Independent Publishers Since 1923

This book is for every kid,
whether they pay for their lunch or not.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

M y first and biggest thanks goes to my Abuela. As far back as I can remember, she has always been there for me in one capacity or another. Coming from true poverty in Mexico, she insists that education is the only path to success. Over the years, she has bought me an endless number of pens, pencils, notepads, books, and computers. She has never stopped encouraging me. Thank you, Abuela.

I also want to extend my gratitude to my editor and publisher, Simon Boughton, who believed in my story enough to take a chance on it. To Vronique Sweet, who led Simon to me. To Noah Michelson, who let me write a piece for the Huffington Post that gave me the confidence I needed in nonfiction. And to Brent Taylor, the first agent who made me feel like a real author.

A heartfelt thanks to Tad Carpenter for the truly epic and beautiful book cover.

Warm literary hugs go to the entire team at Norton who helped bring this book to life, including (but not limited to) Kristin Allard for all the extra stuff, Laura Goldin, the copyeditors who kept me from looking dumb, and the publicity and marketing teams for getting me out there. Also, to the sales reps for putting my story on shelves, to the book buyers for taking a chance, and to the booksellers for all that you do. And an extra special thanks to the librarians and the teachers who are always providing hope to children, simply by sharing stories.

As for those who know me best:

To my dog, Toby, who brings me endless joy.

To my friends (especially Joe and RJ) who made me laugh when I needed it.

To my partner, Mark, who graciously supports every word I write, hugs me when I fall apart after working on the really hard stuff, and continues to teach me that even broken people deserve love, can find love, and can keep love healthyif they put in the effort.

And to my sister, M, who has always been by my side.

COUPONS

M y stomach growls. This morning, I skipped breakfast, though not cause I want to. When Mom steers our old two-door Toyota hatchback into a parking space in front of Kroger, I mumble, I hate grocery shopping.

Well, how else are we going to eat? Mom says.

Eat what? You never get anything I like.

When you get a job and start paying for the groceries yourself, you can buy whatever you want.

I cant get a job, Im a kid.

Sounds like your problem. Not mine.

When Liam goes to the store with his mom, she lets him get anything he wants. Pop-Tarts, Toaster Strudel, Twix bars, Pringles, whatever.

Thats because Liam is a spoiled brat. And his mom is rich.

They arent rich just because they live in a house.

Well, theyre richer than us! Mom shouts. She gets out of the car and slams the door. I dont take off my seat belt. Mom storms around the car and tries to open the door. It takes a second cause it has a big dent in the side that catches every time. Metal wrenches against metal when she jerks it open. Get out of the car!

Can I get just one thing I want?

You can get an ass-whoopin if you dont get out of the car this minute.

Not budging, I stare straight ahead. My arms cross like a shield. I dont know why I get so angry about this stuff. This is how its been my whole life. But some dayssome days I hate my life, and I feel like fighting. Fighting my mom, fighting other kids, fighting the world. Doesnt matter. Just something to take the sting out of me being so broke.

Im going to count to three! Mom growls through gritted teeth. I see her fingers curl into her palms, making fists. One

Fine! I shout back. I get out of the car and slam the broken door, the metal catching like robot nails on a chalkboard. Usually, I stand my ground. But when Mom gets that red look in her eyes, I know... its better to stop arguing.

I pull a shopping cart from the pen. One of the wheels is wonky and spins left and right instead of rolling straight. I consider putting it back, getting a new one, but then I feel bad for it. Its not the carts fault its messed up.

We make our way down one aisle and then another. My mouth is watering. Theres aisles full of foodpeanut butter, pasta, stuff to make tacos or burgers, all kinds of cereal, practically a thousand kinds of chips and dips and salsas, then cookies, Chex mix, beef jerky, fried mozzarella sticks, waffles, Granny Smith apple pies, donuts, dozens of different flavors of ice cream.

And I cant get any of it.

I know better than to ask for anything. Moms answer is always No. Or No way. Or Are you crazy? Put it back. Its too expensive.

Its crazy to say a bag of potato chips is too expensive. A whole bag costs, like, four bucks. That seems like a lot of money, but it can be ten little meals. Thats only like forty cents each.

Now my stomach is really growling and grumbling. I try to ignore it as I push the empty cart behind Mom. This morning, we only had enough Cheerios and milk for like half a person. I got up first, and I could have eaten it. I didnt though. I saved them for Ford. Hes my baby brother, and hes only two. So he needs it more.

Mom shoves an open envelope into my hand. Inside is an overdue bill. I ask, Whats this for?

On the back, stupid, she says.

On the back is a grocery list. Moms tall, loopy, cursive handwriting is hard to read, but it says all the stuff we need. Milk. Cereal. Bread. That kinda junk. My mom usually sticks to the list, but some days she changes her mind based on the yellow signs for todays specials or clearance items.

Look! This ground beef is on sale for a dollar! she says.

The meat is all weird brown though. I scrunch my face. Raw beefs supposed to be pink.

Mom rolls her eyes, throwing it in the cart. Its still good. Just cook it well done.

Turning from one aisle to the next, I see the lady with free samples. I leave the cart behind to run over. With a smile, she asks, Would you like to try a Maplewood Sausage?

I grab a toothpick-stabbed mini-bite, dip it in the mustard, and shove the whole thing in my mouth. I savor the juicy explosion of flavor. But its gone too soon. Before the lady can object, I take two more. I make sure to smile and say Thank you.

Mom, free samples. I point. Its so good. Can we buy some?

Mom ignores me. Too busy digging through her folder of coupons. She spends all day Sunday, every Sunday, cutting coupons out of the newspaper. Then she makes sure we only go grocery shopping on Tuesdays. Tuesdays are Double-Coupon Day.

Yes! Mom says in victory. This coupon is for two dollars off! Double, that means four dollars in savings!

Since youre saving four dollars, can we get a box of mac-n-cheese?

No.

But its Fords favorite.

Hes a toddler, he doesnt have a favorite anything.

When we round the next corner, theres another samples person. This guy has cheese and crackers. But theres no sign that says Free. Trying to be polite, I ask, Are these free?

He gives me a dirty look. If youre going to buy some.

Hey! my mom shouts. I dont see a sign saying anything about buying nothing. Rex, go ahead. Have as many as you want.

I feel my face redden. Im hungry, but I dont want to be rude. I take the smallest cracker with a little square of cheese on it. I whisper, Thank you.