The Nanny From the White Legume
by
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Back in class, friends were whispering, cajoling, and pretending to study... all the while pestering Brock to tell them what happened in the Principal's Office. They could not believe their ears when Brock reported that nothing had happened. Mr. Bengfort did not get mad, did not deliver a lecture, and made no threats—Brock did not get detention time and surmised that he would not even get kicked out of school. Ms. Goonlack quickly dispelled the underground railroad and time-wasting with a whopper of an open-book test that she was requiring to be completed before the class period was over. Brock plunged into the assignment to conceal his pride while demonstrating genuine remorse for his little trick—but nobody seemed to buy it except the class of nimrods (and, Brock hoped, his future followers and minions) who applauded his heroic, however misguided, efforts against authority. Yeah, he was presently feeling pretty high on power. The rest of the day seemed superficially calm. Burrock came by, slapped him on the back and said he wished he'd thought of promising free pizza to everyone! It seemed OK until approximately ten minutes later—when Brock suspected it was just a cruel trick to get him to do another stupid election gimmick. Mr. B's words nagged him for the duration of the afternoon... "how will you actually know who voted for you when the elections are secret ballot?"... After dallying all the way home from school, Brock reached the front steps to his house and hopped up two of them before noticing. Mother stood just inside the screen door. It was an unusually warm day for early Fall. She had an expressionless expression on her face. Since there was no turning back now, no excuses, no escape, no lies or half-truths, and no running away, Brock gulped and allowed automatic pilot to propel his body forward. Mother said, "Hi Brock. The School called. How was your afternoon?" "Not too good, Mom. I guess..., I guess you know about everything, huh?" "Mr. Bengfort called and said you promised free pizza to everyone who voted for you. Is that what you did?" "Uh, yeah..., is that all he told you?" "Pretty much..., but it's not looking good, do you think?" "He didn't say anything about..., uh, oh, well..., yeah, it's pretty bad..., I hope you and... you and Father can help me... er,... buy the..." Brock pleaded more than requested. "Love to, Sweet Boy, but buying pizza for the whole school is not in our budget for this month. Sorry." "Sorry?... You're sorry, but you can't help me? That's it?" "Yeah, that's it, Sweet Boy, but I can help you with some ideas to get the money if you're interested. Isn't it your turn to help with dinner and dishes tonight?" Brock stared at the retreating back of his Mother. She went to prepare dinner in the kitchen. That's it? Where was all the support and encouragement of the night before? Where was the rest of the family? Where were the busy campaign helpers from yesterday? This was intolerable! Brock stomped upstairs to pout... and plan... and add people to his List!
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About the Book
• Brock is a good boy; a teacher-pleaser and a straight-A student—but, unfortunately, a control freak. • Nanny is very much a lady... with impeccable manners and sees no reason why others should not also conform to a large measure of civility. • Brock is a smart, autonomous learner; but has missed the very important concept of not having the right to control others... (or passively-aggressively bully them). • Nanny is committed to young people mastering the art of introspection, self-reflection, and self-correction. • Brock is happy-go-lucky, confident, never experienced failure... but is quickly traveling down a self-destructive path toward a warped ego... until... Nanny introduces a soft, mooshey 'wake-up' call... a.k.a. 'consequences' to his over-inflated sense of self. • Nanny has the wisdom of generations and accesses every amelioration possible to solve this family's problems.
About the Author
Linda had wanted to be a writer, geologist, paleontologist, or singer since 6th grade when she received her first geode from her father and wanted to solve/write mystery stories. She grew up reading Dr. Seuss—loving the nonsensical wordology; Seuss’ poetry also appealed to her—rhyming is still a current family pastime. With her nose so often stuck in a book, sometimes under the covers with a flashlight, her father hid her books from her so she would ‘join’ the family activities. She vowed to never become a teacher, but following more than twenty years in teaching and counseling, she has encountered many outlandish, creative ideas—some of which could not be stuffed away in Shel Silverstein’s attic any more—another one of her favorite authors. The title of Nanny from the Black Legume, obviously, is a spin-off from the Black Lagoon series which, ostensibly, may be a spin-off from the 1950’s movie, Creature from the Black Lagoon. but who wants to find out what kind of copyright laws we might all have broken—especially deep down under the murky waters of a black lagoon? Working on and around the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation since 1999, Linda considers the friends and students there to be among the best she has ever known. Her first book, A Codumbus Colundrum, was inspired after learning a different perspective while taking the SD-required Indian Education course for certification. Several Indian friends were also influential in alerting her to the truth. She has many ideas patiently waiting for attention on the back burner and hopes to accomplish these and many more dreams and serendipitous ideas. Four grandchildren keep her busy; all wannabe and future illustrators. She lives with her family in western South Dakota.