Timmy, Jimmy and Duncan Too

By James Freeman

Life-long memories are created when two brothers, Timmy and Jimmy, meet Duncan a talking raccoon who opens their eyes to environmental issues and life lessons. The boys spend summer vacation with their grandparents on Lake Michigan and are jaw-dropped dumbstruck that their grandmother is friendly with a wild raccoon she calls Duncan, whom is amazing in many ways, entrust the boys with her secret that not even grandmother knows, suffers misfortune, then comes to the boys' rescue to prevent bullies from causing another. In telling the story Jimmy reveals his lack of patience, enthusiastic personality, endless curiosity and inquisitiveness, encouraging sense of right and wrong, and eventually the beginnings of a guiding compass and a smidgen of patience he did not think possible – but then again, he did not think a lot of things were possible before the summer began.

 

Their grandparents' cottage perched on the edge of a bluff overlooking Lake Michigan with crashing waves and sandy beach below, surrounding woods and spring fed creeks, and trips to nearby Mackinac Bridge and Mackinac Island with its historic fort, main street and the Grand Hotel, are the majestic settings for life-changing life-lessons, about the beauty of the built and natural worlds, and the harmful ugliness of the abuse to the latter by misguided humans.

 

By summer's end the boys' father receives confirmation his job will require relocation to another city, but Jimmy's newly found deeper-thought says he can handle the uprooting of life that will require making new friends among other things. As vacation ends and heavyhearted goodbyes are exchanged, Jimmy reflects on the memories he'll take with him both happy and sad, and about his increased environmental awareness and self-awareness all thanks to his new friend Duncan, the talking raccoon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Freeman
• Release date: Oct 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9780692041277

James Freeman

During his youth James Freeman spent most summers in the beautiful State of Michigan traveling to the locations described in the book, and having a grandmother with a friendly wild raccoon she named Duncan that actually did some of the things in the book. Michigan’s beautiful environment helped blossom his awareness of and affinity with the natural environment and the need to protect it, by living in a more sustainable way in harmony with nature so that it will be around for all future generations to enjoy.

Book preview

TIMMY, JIMMY AND DUNCAN TOO

By

James Freeman

CHAPTER ONE – THE LONG, LONG ROAD

Finally, school is over and summer begins! Oh, how I thought it would never end; homework, tests, teachers and paying attention to them for way too long—sometimes driving me crazy. It’s not that I hate school like I hate broccoli, it’s just annoying like Margaret-Ann, who's always chasing me and running faster than all the boys and enjoys doing a lot of things better than me, it's just that it's so hard to sit in a classroom and listen to a teacher teach all day. Mrs. Caruso, my teacher, her voice fades into the background when my mind starts wandering out the window, daydreaming about anything but mostly about playing, usually followed by my head quickly spinning back toward the blackboard when she says loudly, Jimmy, stay focused! A ton of times she said it this year, often adding, Jimmy, there is nothing out there that is going to help you in here. It's just that I find it hard to concentrate on things I don't understand will be any use to me. Mom and Dad say I will need to know these things to be smart and successful when I'm all grown up, but I am only nine years old and getting to grown up age like Dad seems like forever far away, so it seems hopeless to try!

Mom, Dad and my teachers all say I just need some patience but I have no idea how to get some patience. It does not seem to exist anywhere in my bones because it is sometimes impossible for my body to sit still for any period of time; like now, while I am riding in this car all day on our way to my grandparents’ to begin our summer vacation on Lake Michigan. I am so excited—my brother Timmy is too—not just because school’s out and we are on vacation but because our grandparents built a new house near the edge of a big bluff above Lake Michigan, with their own sandy beach and lots of woods and fields to run and play in that my dad says is over 10 acres and I very much want to see it. That must be a lot of land because he says it is about the same size as 40 or 50 house lots like those in the suburb we live in that’s kinda boring ‘cus all the houses almost look alike, and it’s too far to walk or bike anywhere and not so safe without sidewalks so we have to wait until Mom or Dad drive us to the park to play – not like the small town where my other grandparent’s live where everything seems within an easy walk and my grandad walks to work every day on a safe sidewalk..

Why Mom and Dad named me Jimmy, so similar to my older brother Timmy, I do not understand, but there are many things grown-ups do that I do not understand. Timmy and Jimmy—it's so annoying sometimes, because people think we are twins, but we are so not like twins. He is two-and-a-half years older than me and different in many ways other than looks, and we seem to fight as much as play. I had the Weber twins in my class and they never seem to fight and seem similar in so many ways, including looks.

Sitting in the car all day is making me crazy so staring out the window watching everything go by helps pass the time. Cars and trucks and everything close to me move by fast and everything far away like the house on that hill passes slowly. I see license plates from different states, wondering if they are coming from or going to somewhere and declare, Everybody must be coming or going, drawing odd glances from Mom and Timmy but not Dad who appears too focused on driving to have noticed.

Not true because the cars stopped on the side of the road or at the gas station are neither coming nor going, Timmy replies in his usual smarty way.

Those don't count, I quickly respond.

Yes, they do.

No, they don't.

Yes, they do.

No, they don't.

Yes, they do.

Enough boys, do not test my patience! Dad says in that way that lets us know he means business. I’m not sure what do not test my patience means but I am sure it isn’t anything like when a teacher gives our class a test.

So back to staring out the window, the landscape changing from flat to rolling farmland and wooded hills, some hills so big and steep the road had to cut the tops off them, otherwise, I guess it would be too hard for the cars and trucks to go over them—like when Dad races over a hill on a small country road and our stomachs fly up to our chest and we scream, laugh and hurt all at the same time, and Mom always tells Dad not do it again, but we know he will. When there isn't hills and trees it's farmland or cattle ranches everywhere, and I come to the conclusion America has a lot of farmland and cattle ranches. The black cows Dad calls Holsteins are the diary milk ones and the brown ones with white heads and neck he calls Herefords are the beef producers. It is easy to tell the difference between the tall corn and skinny wheat, although both have tassels, and short soybean plants. Sometimes the fields are so big I cannot see the other side and wonder how it is possible a farmer farms so much land.

It’s interesting passing through towns and cities, especially after endless miles and miles of farmland, and I think about what it would be like to live there and what they do; maybe they are all farmers, ranchers, and those who help support all of them, like doctors, dentists, teachers, grocers and restaurant, ice cream and candy store owners. I wonder what my friends would be like in these towns and cities we pass by, or if I would even get new friends. But I do not want new friends; I like the ones I have, like Tommy, Danny and Chris, so I try stop thinking about this and try new thoughts, but the old unwanted thoughts keep creeping into the new thoughts, so I try stop thinking and go back to staring out the window.

Oh, when will we get there? Why does it take so long? I say in frustration.

Patience Jimmy, it's just a few more hours, Mom replies.

A few more hours! I whisper to myself in aggravation.

Don't be a baby, Jimmy, Timmy blurts out.

I'm no baby – you’re the big baby. I push Timmy on the shoulder.

Timmy quickly pushes back, and harder than me.

Stop it, both of you! Dad barks loudly.

He started it, I say, regretting before it even leaves my lips.

Don't smart back to me, Jimmy. You sit there quietly, not another word; I cannot concentrate on driving with you two fighting.

Now I can tell from his voice he really means business.

Quietly I stare out the window but it is not that interesting and I am not in the mood to daydream. I'm bored with the same landscape repeating over and over, and after what seems an eternity my watch says only two minutes have passed. Augh, this is going to take forever, I say to myself. Then we approach a big bridge over a wide river glistening in the sun and this is much more exciting. I like anything with water and bridges, and