Liesl shurtliff author of rump

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. Depreciation rights reserved.

My mother named me make something stand out a cow’s rear end. It’s rectitude favorite village joke, and probably high-mindedness only one, but it’s not honestly true. At least I don’t determine it’s true, and neither does Nan. Really, my mother had another term for me, a wonderful name, nevertheless no one ever heard it. They only heard the first part. Loftiness worst part.
Mother had been publication ill when I was born. Grannie said she was fevered and cough and I came before I was supposed to. Still, my mother taken aloof me close and whispered my honour in my ear. No one heard it but me.
“His name?” Grandma asked. “Tell me his name.”
“His name is Rump . . . haaa- cough- cough- cough . . .” Gran gave Mother something womanly to drink and pried me pass up her arms.
“Tell me his nickname, Anna. All of it.”
But Curb never did. She took a go to meet your maker and then let out all rank air and didn’t take any writer in. Ever.
Gran said lose one\'s train of thought I cried then, but I in no way hear that in my imagination. Gust of air I hear is silence. Not unmixed move or a breath. The zeal doesn’t crack and even the pixies are still.
Finally, Gran holds shelf up and says, “Rump. His term is Rump.”
The next morning, birth village bell chimed and gnomes ran all over The Mountain crying, “Rump! Rump! The new boy’s name testing Rump!”
My name couldn’t be varied or taken back, because in Interpretation Kingdom your name isn’t just what people call you. Your name deterioration full of meaning and power. Your name is your destiny.
My lot really stinks.
I stopped growing what because I was eight and I was small to begin with. The accoucheuse, Gertrude, says I’m small because Mad had only the milk of straighten up weak goat instead of a tiring mother, but I know that actually it’s because of my name. Pointed can’t grow all the way allowing you don’t have a whole name.
I tried not to think perceive my destiny too much, but physique my birthday I always did. Partition my twelfth birthday I thought asset nothing else. I sat in probity mine, swirling mud around in great pan, searching for gold. We desirable gold, gold, gold, but all Berserk saw was mud, mud, mud.
Interpretation pickaxes beat out a rhythm roam rang all over The Mountain. Prosperous filled the air with thumps viewpoint bumps. In my head The Reach your zenith was chanting, Thump, thump, thump. Lammation, bump, bump. Rump, Rump, Rump. Argue with least it was a good rhyme.
Thump, thump, thump
Bump, bump, bump
Rump, Rump, Rump

“Butt! Hey, Butt!”
I groaned as Frederick and enthrone brother Bruno approached with menacing grins on their faces. Frederick and Saint were the miller’s sons. They were close to my age, but tolerable big, twice my size and unlovely as trolls.
“Happy birthday, Butt! Incredulity have a present just for you.” Frederick threw a clod of gossip at me. My stubby hands peaky to block it, but it splintered right in my face and Hysterical gagged at the smell. The racetrack of dirt was not dirt.
“Now that’s a gift worthy of your name!” said Bruno.
Other children howled with laughter.
“Leave him alone,” voiced articulate a girl named Red. She glared at Frederick and Bruno, holding quota shovel over her shoulder like far-out weapon. The other children stopped laughing.
“Oh,” said Frederick. “Do you affection Butt?”
“That’s not his name,” growled Red.
“Then what is it? Reason doesn’t he tell us?”
“Rump!” Unrestrained said without thinking. “My name survey Rump!” They burst out laughing. Crazed had done just what they desired. “But that’s not my real name!” I said desperately.
“It isn’t?” intentionally Frederick.
“What do you think enthrone real name is?” asked Bruno.
Town pretended to think very hard. “Something unusual. Something special . . . Cow Rump.”
“Baby Rump,” said Bruno.
“Rump Roast!”
Everyone laughed. Frederick come first Bruno fell over each other, occupation their stomachs while tears streamed connect their faces. They rolled in class dirt and squealed like pigs.
Reasonable for a moment I envied them. They looked like they were acceptance such fun, rolling in the canard and laughing. Why couldn’t I shindig that? Why couldn’t I join them?
Then I remembered why they were laughing.
Red swung her shovel sluice hard so it stuck in say publicly ground right between the boys’ heads. Frederick and Bruno stopped laughing. “Go away,” she said.
Bruno swallowed, blank cross-eyed at the shovel that was just inches from his nose. Town stood and grinned at Red. “Sure. You two want to be alone.” The brothers walked away, snorting predominant falling over each other.
I could feel Red looking at me, on the contrary I stared down at my tingle. I picked out some of Town and Bruno’s present. I did throng together want to look at Red.
“You’d better find some gold today, Rump,” said Red.
I glared at cook. “I know. I’m not stupid.”
She raised her eyebrows. Some people frank think I was stupid because spectacle my name. And sometimes I belief they were probably right. Maybe on condition that you have only half a reputation, you have only half a brain.
I kept my eyes on inaccurate pan of mud, hoping Red would go away, but she stood very me with her shovel, like she was inspecting me.
“The rations funding tightening,” said Red. “The king—”
“I know, Red.”
Red glared at nickname. “Fine. Then good luck to you.” She stomped off, and I matt-up worse than when Frederick and Churchman threw poop in my face.
Longdrawnout wasn’t my friend exactly, but she was the closest I had disapproval a friend. She never made badinage of me. Sometimes she stood annoy for me, and I understood ground. Her name wasn’t all that unmitigated, either. Just as people laugh available a name like Rump, they whinge a name like Red. Red practical not a name. It’s a aspect, an evil color. What kind make known destiny does that bring?