character sketch of mr boone in the story the scholarship jacket
Answers
character sketch of mr boone in the story the scholarship jacket
Explanation:
Mr. Boone’s voice sounded calm and quiet.
Mr. Boone looked up when I came in but didn’t say anything. To this day I don’t remember if I got in trouble in P.E. for being late or how I made it through the rest of the afternoon. I went home very sad and cried into my pillow that night so Grandmother wouldn’t hear me. It seemed a cruel coincidence that I had overheard that conversation.
18The next day when the principal called me into his office I knew what it would be about. 1He looked uncomfortable and unhappy. I decided I wasn’t going to make it any easier for him, so I looked him straight in the eyes. He looked away and fidgeted with the papers on his desk.
“Martha,” he said, “there’s been a change in policy this year regarding the scholarship jacket. 1As you know, it has always been free.” He cleared his throat and continued. “This year the Board has decided to charge fifteen dollars, which still won’t cover the complete cost of the jacket.”
I stared at him in shock, and a small sound of dismay escaped my throat. I hadn’t expected this. He still avoided looking in my eyes. “So if you are unable to pay the fifteen dollars for the jacket it will be given to the next one in line.” I didn’t need to ask who that was.
Standing with all the dignity I could muster, I said, “I’ll speak to my grandfather about it, sir, and let you know tomorrow.” I cried on the walk home from the bus stop. The dirt road was a quarter mile from the highway, so by the time I got home, my eyes were red and puffy. “Where’s Grandpa?” I asked Grandma, looking down at the floor so she wouldn’t ask me why I’d been crying. She was sewing on a quilt as usual and didn’t look up. “I think he’s out back working in the bean field.”
I went outside and looked out at the fields. There he was. I could see him walking between the rows, his body bent over the little plants, hoe in hand. I walked slowly out to him, trying to think how I could best ask him for the money. There was a cool breeze blowing and a sweet smell of mesquite fruit in the air, but I didn’t appreciate it. I kicked at a dirt clod. I wanted that jacket so much. It was more than just being a valedictorian and giving a little thank your speech for the jacket on graduation night. It represented eight years of hard work and expectation. I knew I had to be honest with Grandpa; it was my only chance. He saw my shadow and looked up.
He waited for me to speak. I cleared my throat nervously and clasped my hands behind my back so he wouldn’t see them shaking. “Grandpa, I have a big favor to ask you,” I said in Spanish, the only language he knew. He still waited silently. I tried again. “Grandpa, this year the principal said the scholarship jacket is not going to be free. It’s going to cost fifteen dollars, and I have to take the money in tomorrow, otherwise it’ll be given to someone else.” The last words came out in an eager rush. Grandpa straightened up tiredly and leaned his chin on the hoe handle. He looked out over the field that was filled with the tiny green bean plants. I waited, desperately hoping he’d say I could have the money.
charecter sketch of Mr Boone