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For my quartet of nephews—

Fauske, Jiks, Tim and Torre—

and for Lena—JA

 

For Margriet—SP

 

 

 

 

This is an Em Querido book

Published by Levine Querido

www.levinequerido.com ∙ info@levinequerido.com

Levine Querido is distributed by Chronicle Books LLC

Text copyright © 2019 by Joukje Akveld

Illustrations copyright © 2012 by Sieb Posthuma

Translation copyright © 2021 by Bill Nagelkerke

Originally published in the Netherlands by Querido

All rights reserved

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020937513

Hardcover ISBN 978-1-64614-039-8

Ebook ISBN 978-1-64614-055-8

Published in April 2021

Book design by Patrick Collins

The text type was set in Italian Old Style MT

Look, there’s Ollie.

Maybe you already know him.

No?

In that case, we’ll introduce him.

So, this is Ollie.

He has a father and a mother.

And a sister he sometimes wishes

he didn’t have.

But this book isn’t about Ollie’s sister.

Not really.

It’s about Ollie.

This is his story.

Ollie’s sister—

(So it’s about his sister after all?

Be patient. It’s nearly Ollie’s turn.)

Ollie’s sister was bigger.

And older.

So far, so good.

Except, she grizzled a lot.

And she always thought she knew best.

Ollie kept quiet then.

Ollie and his family often went out and about.

On excursions. Visiting.

Little trips, here and there.

“Happy Family Time,” Ollie’s mom called it.

“Sharing adventures,” Ollie’s dad added.

Ollie’s sister usually grizzled: “If only I could have an ice cream.”

Ollie wouldn’t have minded, just once in a while, adventuring by himself.

Without his sister.

Without grizzling.

Without sisterly-grizzles.

But his mom might not have thought it was

Happy Family Time if he said that.

So Ollie kept quiet.

And looked for a spot by the window.

As the train went through the countryside,

Ollie’s sister began to yawn.

“Cows,” she said. “How dull.”

Then Ollie looked at his sister.

His sister who always knew better.

Ollie couldn’t understand how a sister like that

could be so wrong.

Cows? he thought.

COWS?!

Those were water buffalo.

Snorting water buffalo with sharp horns.

And hooves…

(Ollie chuckled to himself)

…hooves that could squash any sister, no matter how big she was.

When they visited grandma, Ollie’s mom

would take the car.

Grandma lived in a village.

No train stopped there.

Not even a bus.

They usually went on a day

when other people were driving.

The nose-to-tail traffic moved so slowly.

And Ollie’s sister began to grizzle.

“Cars,” she said, “are such a dumb idea.”

Ollie looked at his sister.

His sister who always knew better.

He shook his head in disbelief.

You might be older, he thought. And bigger.

But you don’t see clearly.

Of course they weren’t just ordinary cars.

OF COURSE NOT.

They were part of a parade. A circus parade.

With acrobats in red jackets…

…and a sea lion that was able to do more with its nose than his sister ever could, even if she tried.

On Sundays they went sailing.

Then Ollie’s father stood at the helm.

“Oink-snortle-grunt,” his father sang.

“Fair wind, fair weather.”

The waves splashed.

The sun shimmered.

But Ollie’s sister began to sigh.

“So boring,” she said. “Such a slowpoke boat.”

Ollie looked at his sister.

His sister who always knew better.

Actually, thought Ollie, I’ve got a very

silly sister.

A slowpoke boat.

A SLOWPOKE BOAT?!

Oink-snortle-grunt.

A pirate ship, that’s what it was.

With super-savvy pirates…

…who knew exactly what to do

with silly sisters.

Silly sister, thought Ollie.

Silly sister who doesn’t see clearly.

Silly sister who doesn’t see clearly and who gets everything wrong.

“YOU’RE the one who doesn’t see right, Ollie.

You need glasses!” Ollie’s sister would say.

Well, there was one thing Ollie knew

for SURE: he didn’t need glasses.

But Ollie’s teacher thought differently.

She had a pointer.

She had a bow.

She had a very determined look.

And she thought she was always right.

(She looked a bit like Ollie’s sister.)

Ollie sat in the front row.

Next to Bea. Who sat beside Gus.

Gus, Bea, Ollie.

Their teacher pointed with the pointer.

Perhaps she’ll call on Gus, thought Ollie.

Perhaps Bea.

But their teacher did not call on Gus.

Or Bea.

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