Walter worked for a food store. He carried food to the homes that ordered it on the telephone. He wore the same clothes every day. He walked in a strange way. When we saw him coming down the street with the food, we would stop playing our games and follow him down the street, trying to walk as he did.
Walter did not bring food to our house. Mother was afraid of him. She went to a different store and brought the food home herself. When Grandmother came to live with us, things changed.
Grandmother liked all sorts of people. During her life, she had made friends with men who drank too much. women who ate too much, and people who were just very lonely.
Grandmother liked people for what they were. If she knew a man who drank too much, she would not tell him to stop drinking. She would tell him how to drink and still be a gentleman. The important thing to Grandmother was that things were done well in the right way and with control.
When Grandmother learned about Walter, she told my mother she wanted Walter to bring food to our house. Mother, of course, was strongly against it. But in vain.
The first time Walter came to our house, they became very close. He told Grandmother he wanted a real friend but did not know how to make friends. Grandmother seemed pleased, and she began to read books to Walter, a little from a book each time he came. The first book was called How to Dress When You Go out With a Friend. The next one was about the problems of early friendship and how to become better friends. Walter seemed to enjoy the readings. At least he listened.
Grandmother almost finished reading one day when Walter stopped her.
“Mrs. Gorman, I have a real friend,” he said. “I like her very much.”
“How wonderful!” Grandmother answered. “I hope you brush your hair and wear a coat when you see her. And you must promise me that you will always be a gentleman.”
注意：1. 续写词数应为150左右；
2. 请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答，
The next book Grandmother read to Walter was How to Respect Your Friend.
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Then one day, I saw Walter and he looked very different.
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I was ten the summer my dad helped me buy my first ten-speed bicycle from a second-hand store. I put up $60 of my grass cutting and snow shoveling (铲) money, and my dad put up the other half. I would pay him back in installments (分期付款) over the next six months. Although it was a bit out of style, it was my ticket to the adult world.
I spent that summer and autumn riding. I was able to ride to every corner of town. However, my sister Liz, a prisoner of her five-speed bicycle, never had a chance to keep up. Just before the Christmas deadline to pay my dad back, we were hit with several snowstorms. This allowed me to shovel enough driveways to pay off my debt. I was now officially a bike owner; it was a feeling unlike any other.
While my mom and dad were fantastic parents, they always passed off gloves, sneakers, and shirts as “presents”. Then came that fateful Christmas morning, my father gave me a used portable record player. I was excited. However, my excitement was short-lived after my dad took my sister to the garage. There, on the steps, stood a brand new ten-speed bicycle. I didn’t hear her screams of joy-all I could hear was the noisy engine of the lawnmower, the endless scraping (刮擦声) of the metal snow shovel on concrete. I’d gone through far too many hours of hard work for my used bike while Liz got her shinny new machine less than a week later.
“Let’s go for a ride, Rob!” Liz sang, my dad holding the bike upright as she got on the shining leather seat.
“Too snowy to ride,” I refused, pushing the record player farther away from me.
注意：
1. 续写词数应为150左右：
2. 请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
I seethed (生闷气) for the rest of the day.
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Reflecting on my dad’s words, I figured out what he meant.
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The coming of warm weather here in Maine calls for a seasonal ritual that, for me, puts an end to winter—fetching the wooden screen door.
Note that I wrote “wooden”. The aluminum models just won’t do it — they close too neatly and keep their perfect form for decades. In the 1960s, a time of imperfection, there was no perfect house, no perfect car, no perfect kids or parents. Why should a screen door be an exception?
I grew up with my siblings in a working-class neighborhood in New Jersey. When the warm weather arrived, my dad would pull out the wooden screen door and install it over the back door, which could then be left wide open, admitting a refreshing breeze (we had no air conditioning).
My father was a Mr. Fix-it, so keeping the screen door serviceable was one of his hobbies. Every few years he gave it a fresh coat of paint and fixed it a bit. I clearly remember him putting the last screw in the last hinge, and swinging the door shut with a “crack”!
A good, wooden screen door, although it was not beautiful, had an invaluable function in the age of the stay-at-home mom: It reminded her of the coming and going of the kids. My siblings, and my friends ran in and out of the house, tearing the screen door open and letting it shut with a bang behind us. A hundred times a day. It was all good, and my mom never complained about the noise, because that was the purpose of a wooden screen door — to slam shut and thus announce that her children were within earshot.
Several years ago, in a fit of nostalgia, I went shopping for a wooden screen door. I was disappointed in the choices available. They looked a bit too solid, too well made. But I found one online, and within a week it was delivered to my doorstep.
注意：
1. 续写词数应为150左右；
2. 请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
The firm had sent me one with the wrong dimensions, so I asked my carpenter to make the necessary adjustments.
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He went about his work again and a short while later the task was done.
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I absolutely love my little brother and sister, Tex and Indi, but sometimes I feel frustrated when they don’t respect my stuff.
That day, I overheard Indi and her friend Kate discussing a necklace. Driven by curiosity, I took a closer look at it. And sure enough, it was my most cherished necklace that lay in Indi’s palm. “Excuse me,” I said. “Where did you find that necklace?” “Right there on the floor,” Indi said, pointing to a spot just outside my bedroom.
Eyes burning with anger, I shouted at her to put my necklace where it had been immediately. Indi shrugged but followed my request.
“Well, please, please, please just leave my stuff alone once and for all!” I said. I must have sounded pretty angry because Indi’s eyes were filled with tears. “Here you go,” she sniffed.
Then Indi and her friend went out to the backyard, and I decided to try to change my bad mood by taking out the arts-and-crafts box. I found craft sticks and seashells for a picture frame, put on some music and got to work.
As I carefully glued on the shells, I remembered how Indi and I had found them together at the beach. That was when I decided to make the frame for Indi. By the time I was finished, I felt starving, so I went to make myself a snack.
When I returned, what I saw annoyed me: Tex was busily building a work with the seashells and thus ruining my frame.
“No!” I screamed. “Why doesn’t anyone respect my things?” I cried.
I went to my room, shut my door, and made a sign that said Keep Out.
I guess my behavior was enough to worry everybody. Before long, I heard a knock on my door. “We’d like you to come out for a family meeting,” said my mom. Obviously, Tex and Indi had told my parents what had happened.
Moments later, we all sat in the living room to talk things over.
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