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    The Not-Just-Anybody Family
    The Not-Just-Anybody Family
    The Not-Just-Anybody Family
    Ebook177 pages2 hours

    The Not-Just-Anybody Family

    By Betsy Byars

    4.5/5

    ()

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    About this ebook

    The first book in the beloved series by the Newbery Medal–winning author “races without pause between hilarious, suspenseful and touching crises” (Publishers Weekly).

    Newbery Award–winning author Betsy Byars’s heartwarming and timeless books about the irrepressible Blossom family are back. In this introduction to the one-of-a-kind clan, Pap, the Blossoms’ grandfather, has landed himself in jail for disturbing the peace. Even though Junior is laid up in the hospital with two broken legs after jumping off the barn roof to test his new homemade wings, he and his sister and brother, Maggie and Vern, have come up with a plan to rescue Pap. A new generation of readers will fall head over heels for this engaging, hilarious family. 
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHoliday House
    Release dateFeb 12, 2013
    ISBN9781480402676
    The Not-Just-Anybody Family
    Author

    Betsy Byars

    Betsy Byars is the author of many award-winning books for children, including The Summer of the Swans, a Newbery Medal winner. The Pinballs was an ALA Notable Book. She is also the author of Goodbye, Chicken Little; The Two-Thousand-Pound Goldfish; and the popular Golly Sisters trilogy.

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    Reviews for The Not-Just-Anybody Family

    4.5/5

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    • 5/5
      Reason for Reading: Betsy Byars is one of my absolute favourite MG/YA authors. I've read a lot of her books and have been anxiously awaiting for my ds to be ready for this series in particular, as it is my favourite by her. I read this aloud to him. I've collected the whole set so we will be continuing with it this coming year.The Blossom Family books are absolutely hilarious! This first book in the series had us laughing out loud from chapter one straight through to the end. DS just loved it and I hand a grand time reading it aloud! The Blossoms, I suppose could be called a dysfunctional family, in the fact that they are not well-off and their family circumstances could be construed as a bit neglectful from today's viewpoint. However, this is a family that loves each other dearly and they make the best with what they have. Junior is a daredevil, coming up with all sorts of ideas while his older brother and sister encourage him. Maggie is the eldest yet smaller than her slighter younger brother Vern, wears his hand-me downs so is always dressed like a boy. They are mostly looked after by their grandfather "Pap" who often leaves them to their own devices and has spent time in jail before. In fact the family procedure when the police come to the house is to run away as fast as you can and hide. The father is dead and the mother is a rodeo star who travels all summer. Not the ideal family situation, but make no mistake about it, there is love aplenty here and one member will stick up for the others come what may.The crazy antics and hilarious quips begin in chapter one and never let up. This is a quick book to read especially since the chapters are usually 3-4 pages long making it so easy to say "just one more chapter". Along with being funny, there are a few tense moments and others more poignant as we see the Blossoms deal with the ups and downs of their far from easy life. Highly recommended!
    • 4/5
      Clever, how this plays with tropes but without calling attention to them. One keeps being led to think that bad things are going to happen, that this is going to be one of those 'therapeutic' novels for kids, one in which kids can see that other kids have worse lives than they do so they (the reader) should be able to develop coping skills just like the protagonist.

      But, no, this is isn't a morality play. It's a loving portrait of a happy family having some mostly funny adventures. Bigger adventures than most of us have, but nothing bleak. Thank goodness.

      They both looked honest, respectable, and miserable. They couldn't wait to get out of court and look like themselves again."

      Fried shredded wheat: soften the shredded wheat in hot milk, put a scoopful on the griddle, flatten, and fry. Best with lots of syrup.

      I would have loved this whole series when I was a child, so I'm rounding up from 3.5 stars."

    Book preview

    The Not-Just-Anybody Family - Betsy Byars

    The Not-Just-Anybody Family

    BETSY BYARS

    Holiday House / New York

    Contents

    1. On and Off the Barn

    2. Running Scared

    3. Junior’s Miss

    4. Broken Wings

    5. 2,147 Beer and Pop Cans

    6. See-Through Eyelids

    7. Going to Town

    8. Mud

    9. Busting Open

    10. The Jailbird

    11. Pap’s Place

    12. Ralphie Goes to Therapy

    13. Jailbreak

    14. More Mud

    15. Visitors

    16. Walking the Plank

    17. Traveling Mud

    18. The Missing Harmonica

    19. Breaking In

    20. Maggie Alone

    21. Rich and Special

    22. Discoveries

    23. Fame

    24. Trucks and Cabs and I-85

    25. Going to Court

    26. Order in the Court

    27. The Rest of the Blossoms

    28. The Verdict

    29. Going Home

    30. Mud’s Missing

    31. In the News

    32. The Hero

    33. Family Favorites

    34. Together

    Chatting It Up: A Holiday House Reader’s Guide

    A Biography of Betsy Byars

    Preview: Blossoms Meet the Vulture Lady

    CHAPTER 1

    On and Off the Barn

    Junior stood on top of the barn, arms outstretched, legs apart. Strapped to his thin arms were wings made out of wire, old sheets, and staples—his own design. His mouth hung open. His eyes watched a spot over the cornfield where he hoped to land. He appeared to be praying.

    Go ahead and jump, his brother, Vern, called.

    Give him time, his sister, Maggie, said. She was sitting cross-legged on the ground, painting her fingernails with a green Magic Marker.

    Well, if he doesn’t jump before Pap gets home, he won’t get to jump. Junior, Pap won’t let you jump. If he catches you up there on the barn, he’ll whup you.

    Junior kept watching the small grassy clearing beyond the cornfield. He was trying to watch it long enough to make it his body’s destination. He felt his body had to know where it was supposed to go or it would end up twenty feet straight down in the hard dirt.

    Are you going to fly or not? Vern asked.

    Maggie held up one hand to admire her green fingernails and to blow on them, although they were dry. When she got the other hand done, she was going to make herself some rings out of clover. She loved to have beautiful hands because you could admire them so easily.

    She showed her hand to Vern. What do you think?

    Are you going to fly or not? Vern asked again.

    Junior did not answer. His body was getting ready. He could actually feel strength seeping into his arms. The wings were actually becoming part of him, like a bird’s.

    This was the third time Junior had climbed up on the barn and allowed Vern to tie on his wings, the third time he had inched his way out to the edge of the roof. But this was the first time he had felt his body actually getting ready to participate, the first time strength had flowed into his arms.

    His tongue flicked over his dry lips.

    He’s not going, Vern said. His voice was heavy with scorn. He just wants us to stand out here and beg him.

    Maggie said, Give him time.

    That’s what we been doing. Every afternoon we been giving him …

    He trailed off because he knew from past experience that it was impossible to predict what Junior would actually do. Junior was going to be a stuntman when he grew up, and sometimes he did things to prove he could, like go down Red Hill on a car made of an apple crate and two skates. Good-bye, Red Hill, Junior had called, letting go with one hand to wave. Other times, like the day he had pretended he was going over White Run Falls with an inflated garbage bag under each arm—that had come to nothing.

    Since there was no way of being sure, Vern waited. In his boredom he tried to blow a bubble with his gum, but his gum was five days old. Vern was going to chew it for a solid week. Since the second day it had been like chewing a rubber band. The only way he could have any fun with it now was to pull it out and twist it around his tongue. He did this without taking his eyes off Junior.

    Junior, you going or not? he called.

    Junior kept watching the grassy patch between the cornfield and the road.

    Maggie finished her other hand, but it wasn’t as nice as the first one. She had gone out of the nails in three places. I couldn’t stand to be left-handed, could you? she asked Vern.

    Vern put his gum back into his mouth. He was standing on one leg now, like a flamingo, with the other foot braced on his knee.

    Junior took a deep breath, filling his lungs with warm country air—it couldn’t hurt to have your lungs inflated with air when you jumped. The thought of his lungs as balloons was comforting to him. Maybe he wouldn’t even need the wings. Maybe he would just float. What a surprise that would be. Vern and Maggie—

    Vern saw the expression on Junior’s face. He’s going. He spoke in the muted voice he used on the rare occasions when he got to the movies and didn’t want to disturb the people around him. He’d sit there, gripping the armrests, telling himself what was going to happen: He’s going to crash. … He’s going to get his head blowed off, until he did disturb somebody and they said, Will you shut up!

    Maggie looked up from her nails. The top of the Magic Marker was in her mouth, so her mouth looked like a small green circle. She removed it. Don’t hurt yourself, Junior, she called.

    Junior nodded without taking his eyes from the grassy clearing. He now thought of the clearing as his destination, the way a pilot thinks of an airport. He could see the very spot—that deep patch of clover—where he would touch down.

    Vern knew that just before Junior flew, he would call Good-bye, Barn. Everyone in the family had tried to break Junior of the habit of saying good-bye to houses and trees and barns, but no one had succeeded.

    It’s stupid, Vern had told him. They can’t hear you.

    Maybe, maybe not, Junior had answered, closing his eyes in an expression that made him look, he thought, wise.

    Junior exhaled and took another of his deep, inflating breaths. Then he paused. Something beyond the clearing had caught his attention.

    A small cloud of dust was moving on the road. Junior watched it first with irritation. Pap was coming home early.

    Every Monday afternoon Pap went into town with a truckload of beer and pop cans, which they collected from Highway 123 and gas station trash cans and picnic areas. Today Pap must have sold them fast and was already coming home.

    Junior knew he would have to fly right this minute or wait till tomorrow. And he didn’t want to do either. He felt he was almost ready—maybe another ten minutes and he would actually fly.

    Frown lines came between his eyebrows as he squinted into the distance. He attempted to bring one hand up to shield his eyes so he could see better. He had forgotten this was not possible while you were wearing wings. It was also not possible to wipe the sweat off your chin or scratch where you itched.

    He leaned forward slightly.

    Seeing the forward motion, mistaking it for a step off the roof, Vern cried, He’s going!

    Junior stopped at the edge of the roof. He saw now that it was not Pap’s truck. Pap’s truck would be raising more dust. Pap’s truck rattled louder than that. Pap’s truck didn’t have a shiny new bumper. Pap’s truck didn’t have a blue light on top.

    He took one step backward. His wings dragged on the worn roof. He could see what it was now. He gasped with fear. It’s—it’s—

    What’s wrong this time? Vern said. What’s your big excuse this time? Coward! Yellow-belly! Either you jump or I’m going in the house, and I’m not kidding. And I’m not coming back either. I knew you weren’t going to fly. You’re nothing but a lousy yellow-bellied coward!

    It’s—it’s—

    Junior raised one white wing to point to the dusty road. His eyes looked over their heads. He had stopped breathing. He was like a statue pointing. The Winged Sentinel.

    And then he said one of the most dreaded words in the family vocabulary:

    Police!

    CHAPTER 2

    Running Scared

    Police! Junior screamed again.

    Police? Maggie said.

    She got to her feet like a startled deer. She heard in the distance the hum of an unfamiliar engine, an engine perfectly maintained, ready to give chase. "It is the police."

    Let’s get out of here, Vern said. As he started to run he shouted, Hide, Junior!

    Maggie flicked her braids over her shoulders and followed. She and Vern ran for their lives, around the barn, past the house, down the gully where Pap threw the household trash. Stumbling over rusty fenders, old bottles, rotten wood, papers, they headed for the woods.

    Wait!

    They barely heard Junior’s desperate cry. They ducked through the trees. They knew these woods because they had been running through them all their lives, running from each other mostly, but now it was as if all that had been practice for this moment.

    Without a word they dodged through the trees. At the creek they skidded down the bank and jumped together. They kept running.

    Not until they were three miles into the woods, past the ravine, did they stop. Then, by mutual unspoken consent—they both knew they were too far into the woods for the police to follow—they flung themselves down on the soft green moss.

    Vern had landed on his back and was lying with his eyes shut, mouth open, hands crossed over his chest. He was breathing so hard and fast, his throat stung.

    Maggie was wincing, holding her side because everytime she ran fast, it hurt. Her green-tipped fingers pressed hard into the flesh beneath her jeans.

    Maggie played different solitary games in different parts of the thick, untouched forest. Here, in this pine-ringed clearing, was where she usually played Hiawatha, but Indian games were not on her mind today.

    She was the

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