Book Review: Bud, not Buddy

Paulo Alfaro

Bud, not Buddy

By: Christopher Paul Curtis

This book, written in the first person point of view, is very funny and exciting, but at the same time very sad. Bud is a 10-year-old boy living in an orphanage in the 1930’s and he has nowhere to go. He just has one personal belonging: His suitcase his mother gave him full of interesting stuff right after she died, when he was a little boy. Inside the suitcase there are very important things for Bud. Things like his blanket, a photo of his mom, a flyer that he is not sure what it is, a pocket knife, and colorful rocks. Bud does not trust anybody and therefore he doesn’t give the suitcase to anyone. One day he took a look at the flyer in his suitcase and it had a name, and an address. From that day on he goes in search of him, thinking it’s his dad. The place he is looking for: Grand Rapids. (The city next to his town.) It will be a dangerous trip. Being a black kid and walking in the streets alone in the 1930’s isn’t very safe due to racism. He travels at night when no one can see him. He meets this very nice guy who is heading to Grand Rapids and is able to take him. He is taken to the exact same place the flyer says. And then he finally meets the mystery man: Herman E. Calloway. Is he his dad? Or is he a random person? Find out!

As I mention in the beginning, this book is funny. The main reason is because of Bud’s character. He had this very funny book he wrote that is all about lying in order to survive certain situations, and other rules he made up according to some strange beliefs he had. He hates to be called Buddy because he knows his name is Bud and his mom specifically warned him to not let anyone call him Buddy because it is a dog’s name. That’s why the book is called Bud, not Buddy; he succeeds because he will always fight for dignity. But it is also a sad story because he is an orphan, his mother died when he was very young, his dad left him when he was just a baby, he is very poor, he barely eats, and many other reasons.

I liked this book because it never got boring and it remained glued to my hands. Bud, not Buddy is one of those stories where the unexpected happens. When you are extremely sure something is going to occur, another thing happens. The protagonist and narrator, Bud, makes an incredible journey to another city alone and reaches his goal. This showed me that when you are searching for something important, not to let go, and never stop.

The Letter

Paulo A.

lucky 47 lane

September 2, 1947

Dear Pupus,

You are my brother man, and I loved you so much, you were the soul of our family's generation. But not any more you self centered crap bag. You encompassed my heart with fear and hate. I know what you did, we all know what you did (the family). I am going to get you hard. I will extricate this situation and be happy again. Just give me that money and everything will be just fine.

You won't escape this time. An anonymous person will soon come to your house. You will have no chance of escaping, because by the time you get this, you will be in jail.

Sincerely,

Mojo Pojo

I Remember

I remember the day my dad told me that we were moving for a couple of weeks, that he was going to remodel our house so it looked nicer. Yes, that was in the start of 2009. I believed it. Two month past and we were still in the temporary home. Dad told me that something went wrong and that it would take a little longer. But again, two month past and nothing.

I remember dad telling me again that soon the house will be finished. And those where the same thing that he told us until today. August of 2010! 1 and 3/4 years!

I realized that when people say something, it actually doesn't mean it is going to happen.

I See The Shinning Stars

Every Sunday

with my dad.

We go sundays only

at nine.

We sit and talk

laying on the garden

just staring at the

deep blue sky

No comets ever

fly by,

just stars,

glowing and glowing

and glowing

Sometimes we don't talk

we just hear the sound

of the wind blow through our body

It calms me down

when I'm worried

mad or

afraid

it's my mini sanctuary

The police point of veiw

The lights of the police station dim down. Only me and my partner remain there, eager to go. Suddenly somebody knocks brusquely on the door. What could it be? I wondered. I stand up and see this woman clad with some pajamas and a pair of flip flops. She had this gruesome grimace while she kept on knocking the door non-stop. I finally got to the door and let her in.

I surmised something had gone terribly wrong, but after hearing what she said about her neighbor, I knew she was one of those people that hate their neighbors. Or so I thought. She derived some more pieces of electrifying information, and that is when we drove to the suspects house thinking it would be a cursory case to solve.

When we finally got to the suspects house. Me and my partner started knocking loudly to wake up the man in case he was asleep. Which he was not because he attended immediately, as if he was waiting for us. The man simulated his smile and started saying.

"May I help you Officers?"

"Yes, we came to search the house. Someone reported hearing some awkward noises."

"Well that is weird! Come in then. Search all you want!" He slowly stepped aside to let us in. He showed us every room and corner in the house. We gingerly searched but found nothing out of place.

Finally after the search we were about to leave and the man offered us some drinks. We were dehydrated because in the station water wasn't available, so we accepted some glasses of water. As we drank with delight, the man was staring at us. He looked nervous. He looked guilty and started breathing deeply and loudly. And that is when he shouted something unexpected.

He screamed that he was guilty and that he killed the man. We immediately got in our car with him on the back seat and went to prison to lock him up for life. At last he actually collaborated with our job because they promoted us for finding the suspect.

Waking Up

I dream like no other. I just love to sleep and dream. But there is a bad ending to every good story. In this case, waking up. Those same three knock on my door my nanny always makes. I just hate it. I keep the anger to myself.

At first I just ignore it thinking it is a senseless part of my dream, but then those stupid annoying three knock again. Only difference, it is louder. Much louder. That is when I wake up and say:

"I'm up!!" With one eye opened and one eyed closed. That's my wake up routine for every day, well, the majority of them. Sometimes their is the bucket of doom day. It's when I don't wake up and my nanny bring this purple bucket and spills it in my face. And there are the days when she just puts the radio right next to my ear, full volume. Welcome to my wake up life. 

As you can see, I hate waking up. And I will probably will never like waking up. That is just me.

Computer..and the suitcase

 

Last year my English teacher (Mrs. Meadows) always used to tell me the same thing each day: "Paulo, you need a protective cover for that computer. "

I took her advice but forgot immediately. Now guess what?  I  didn't have a protective cover until now,  just after the tragic injury of my computer.  Yes, I was horrified.  And each time I remember about the accident when my computer fell and I had to take it to Mac store and knowing that technicians are still trying to fix it after 2 and a half weeks, I remember Mrs Meadows telling me to buy a protective cover.

I realized that being lazy to get something that is really necessary will take you nowhere. Next time Mrs. Meadows gives me an advice, I will consider it very seriously.