Benito Runs

By Justine Fontes

Running away is the only option.

Benito's father, Xavier, had been in Iraq for more than a year. When he returns, Benito's family life is not the same. Xavier suffers from PTSD—post-traumatic stress disorder—and yells constantly. He causes such a scene at a school function that Benny is embarrassed to go to back to Southside High. Benny can't handle seeing his dad so crazy, so he decides to run away. Will Benny find a new life? Or will he learn how to deal with his dad—through good times and bad?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Aug 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781467729628

Justine Fontes

Justine Fontes was born in New York City. She grew up on Long Island and later graduated Phi Beta Kappa with a B.A. in English Liternature from New York University. Justine found her first job in publishing while she was a Freshman. She worked at various publishing houses before becoming a freelance writer. At Little Golden Books, Justine met her future husband, Ron Fontes. They started writing together and have written over 500 children's books. Justine and Ron moved to Maine in 1988.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

I hate writing. At least I used to. But believe me, if you ever feel like your life is falling apart, pick up a pen. It will help. I promise.

You probably don’t believe me. I wouldn’t have just a few months ago. I never liked writing papers for school or even letters.

I like to play soccer and hang out with my friends. I used to play soccer almost every day with my dad, Xavier. But that changed after he came home from Iraq.

Before the war, Dad used to sing all the time. And most weekends he’d cook. He used to make the best enchiladas!

Almost every weekend we did something fun, like go to a movie. Sometimes Dad would take the family bowling, even though he hated the ugly, striped shoes. He called them zapatos feos.

Mom, my younger sister Armida, and I didn’t mind the shoes. They cracked us up. And if that didn’t get us chuckling, we’d be laughing at each other, because we were all really bad at bowling. Watching the ball roll slowly into the gutter was always good for a laugh.

Once a month, Dad would go to National Guard camp. But it wasn’t any big deal. While he was gone, Mom, Armi, and I would have fun. We’d eat pizza and stay up late watching TV. We liked doing all the things Dad wouldn’t let us do if he was home.

Then, suddenly, Dad was told he was going to be deployed—into real combat! Mom and Armi freaked out. I did, too! But I didn’t show it. With Dad heading to Iraq, he told me I would become the man of the house.

I tried to be a good leader. But it wasn’t easy filling Dad’s shoes. I’m not much of a singer. And I can barely boil an egg, much less make enchiladas. But I did my best to keep up morale.

Every Friday the three of us went bowling. It gave us something to look forward to.

Bowling was different without Dad. There was no one to complain about the zapatos feos. Mom seemed more like another kid than a parent. Armi and I teased her when she got a gutter ball. And she teased us back, instead of telling us to play nice.

I had never thought of my mother as a person before. She was just Mom. But sometimes when she and Armi were giggling together they almost looked like sisters.

It freaked me out to realize that Mom had only been three years older than I was when she had met and married Dad. No way did I feel ready to become a parent! It was hard enough just being man of the house while Dad was away.

And I wasn’t very strict. In Benito’s casa, homework could wait until after soccer practice. Garbage could be bagged in the morning.

Bedtime became whenever you fall asleep, wherever. Mom often fell asleep in front of the TV. I guess the chattering voices made her feel less alone.

While Dad was at boot camp, we missed him, but it wasn’t that bad. Once he was actually in Iraq, things got scary. Dad was gone, and we realized he might not come back. Laughs became very precious. We bowled a lot of games trying to soldier on so that we didn’t have to think about that.

Every week we mailed Dad a package. We tried to think of little things that he might miss from home and treats he could share with the other guys in his unit. We also sent lots of pictures.

Mom always nagged me, Write him a letter. But I didn’t know what to say. Hi! How are you? I’m fine didn’t really cut it.

Dad wrote pretty often. Mom always read the letters silently to herself. Then she’d read them aloud to me and Armi. Sometimes her eyes filled with tears, and she’d get quiet