Chapter Eleven - Bluster’s Best Joke

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Bluster’s Best Joke

FRIDAY CAME WITH sunbeams and field day buzz.
Everyone was buzzing. Chalk drawings, jump rope lines, and sidewalk races.

Bluster was quiet. Not sad, just still.
He watched the games from the shade, spinning a blade of grass between his fingers.

Then, Coach called for storytime.
A big circle under the tree.
Bluster sat near the back.

“Anyone wanna tell a joke?” Coach asked.

Giggles bounced around. A few kids tried.
Silly ones. Knock-knocks.
One about spaghetti falling off a bike.

Then Pebble turned and looked at Bluster.
She didn’t say a word. Just waited.

Bluster stood.

Everyone looked up.

He shuffled forward. Cleared his throat.
And said:

“What’s heavier than a secret but lighter than a whisper?”

Silence.

Then:

“The moment just before you say something kind.”

No one laughed right away.
They blinked.

Then Pebble laughed. A tiny one.

Then Coach chuckled.

Then the whole circle burst into the brightest, warmest kind of laughter there is.
The kind that hugs you on the way out.

Bluster smiled.

Not big. Not loud.
But wide enough to reach his eyes.

That night, when he zipped up his backpack,
he found Pebble’s note still tucked in the front pocket.

He didn’t unfold it. He didn’t have to.
He just smiled again, and whispered:

“Got it.”