Yes, it’s that time again, time for another excerpt from Say Yes (A Sons of the People Novel), scheduled for release in mid-April. (To read it, click the “Read More” link at the bottom right of the post.)

Ok, I know I always tell y’all how excited I am about new releases, but this one’s a little different. This one has Petey in it, and I have to say, he’s definitely one of my favorite characters, possibly because he reminds me of my own son at that age: Intelligent, curious, and maybe a little too tentative when it comes to trying new things. 

Sometimes, people don’t know how strong they are until someone helps them realize it. That holds true with children just the same as it does with adults. In the following scene, Petey wishes for a dad to make him “unscared of everything.” It’s that very little boy logic that makes him such an endearing character, and it’s Petey’s relationship with Levi that helps him figure out he was strong all along. I hope you enjoy this sneak peek into a little boy’s heart.

Excerpt

Petey Noland stared up at the waterslide and wished for his mama. Dale had already gone down it twice and Matty once, but they were both older. That’s what MawMaw said when Petey held back. Dale and Matty are bigger than you. Let them go first and then you’ll see there’s nothing to be afraid of. She’d hugged him hard, like he was a little kid or something. Even away from home, she smelled like cookies and flowers.

It reminded him of Mama and made the funny ache in his chest worse.

When he was eight like Matty, maybe the slide wouldn’t scare him. Maybe he could climb up to the tippy top and sit down and just go, like it was no big deal. Eight wasn’t that far away, but it’d be too late for him. They’d be home a long time before his birthday and he’d miss his chance to have fun on the waterslide. He knew he’d like it, if he could only bring himself to make the steep climb.

Dale jogged over and slung a wet arm around Petey. At eleven, Dale was already a whole head taller and had muscles in places Petey only dreamed about. His big cousin could hit a baseball nearly to the fence on the Rec Department’s fields. Reliably, Uncle Jack said, which meant he could do it almost every time he came up to bat.

Petey knew he was doing good just to make contact with the ball.

You’ll hit your growing spell soon, Petey, Mama said. Things will be different then. You’ll see. She said it a lot, so he figured she believed it. Or maybe she just wanted to make him feel better because he was scrawny and short and whatever the opposite of athletic was. Dale and Matty could do anything. Petey wished with all his might that he could, too, but it never happened. If a ball was involved, he sucked at it, doubly so if he had to run. Maybe if he had a dad to do things with him like his cousins did, he’d be a great ball player, too, but he didn’t. All he had was his mama.

He loved her and all, but she didn’t know diddly about man stuff.

“You gonna come up, Petey?” Dale said.

Petey shrugged. No way was he admitting he was scared of the steps. No. Way. Dale wouldn’t make fun of him or anything. He was cool like that, unlike the guys at school. Nope, Dale would laugh it off and coax him into trying it anyway, and then Petey would get stuck halfway up and they’d have to send somebody up to carry him down.

Dale and Matty would never want to play with him again.

“You sure? It’s a lot of fun. Man, that slide feels like greased lightning under your butt.”

“I’m ok here,” Petey said in the soft lisp he was stuck with until his front teeth grew back. He prodded the gap with his tongue and slumped. No teeth yet.

Dale squeezed hard. “Ok, then. I’ll be back soon.”

Petey watched his cousin jog back to the line forming behind the waterslide. A hard knot of something that kinda hurt lodged in his stomach and his eyes felt all funny. He swiped the back of his hand over them and stared after Dale. Someday, he’d be big, as big as the slide, and he’d never be afraid of it again. He’d learn how to throw a ball and run around the bases without wheezing and shoot a basketball straight enough to hit the rim.

He fingered his inhaler through his shorts. Maybe the ball would even go in, if he practiced hard enough. Uncle Jack offered to help him all the time, but it felt funny, almost wrong. Maybe if Petey had a dad, it’d be different. A dad would be around all the time, just like Uncle Jack was for Dale and Matty. He’d make pancakes and teach Petey how to throw a ball and not make fun of the all the posters on his walls just because they were from dorky movies. A dad would tuck him in at night and tell him stories and…

Petey let the thought trail off. No way would he ever have a dad. Mama didn’t even date. That’s what Aunt Candi said, and everybody knew you had to date before you could fall in love and get married.

He screwed up his face and tried to remember what else grown ups did when they liked each other. Kissing, maybe. Holding hands for sure. Aunt Candi and Uncle Jack got all gooey eyed when they held hands. One time, Petey had caught Uncle Jack with his hand on Aunt Candi’s butt.

Which was kinda gross, so maybe Mama could skip that part and stick to holding hands.

First, though, she had to meet somebody. If she did, they could go out on a date, and then he’d have a dad, a real honest to gosh dad with a truck and a pancake pan and everything. And he wouldn’t have to wait until he was big to climb that slide. No way. A dad made you unscared of everything, like Dale and Matty were. They didn’t care that the steps to the waterslide were really high. They knew how to throw a ball and catch it and hit it without turning away first.

They didn’t wheeze every time they ran around too much.

His hand clenched tight around his inhaler, so tight it dug into his fingers, pinching the skin until it hurt. He needed a dad. That was the ticket. All he had to do was figure out how to get Mama to meet a guy. Not any guy, though. They needed a guy that was nice to Mama and brought her flowers, like PawPaw brought MawMaw, and one that’d teach Petey all about sports, like Uncle Jack did for Dale and Matty.

They needed a guy that loved them enough to stay, not like his dad, who’d died before Petey was born. The way he figured it, dying wasn’t something you did to your kid. It really kinda sucked when your dad died, so a real dad would stick around, no matter how bad it was, and he’d never give up, not ever.

Petey stared up at the waterslide and smiled. A dad. That’s what he needed. 

He settled down to think it over as Dale slid down the slide again, screaming laughter out the whole way down.