by Arya, 5th grade writer
It was a hot summer day. Yes, it was. I was finally picked up at the shop by a young lad, the son of Mr. Jefferson.
“Pa, I want the 'Inky' one!”
“Now, now Thomas, let me catch up.”
Thomas, as he was called, got my name almost right. My name is Dinky. Yes, Dinky the pen. “Hi Thomas!” I said.
“Who said that?” Thomas asked, worried.
“Who said what?” asked his father as he rounded the corner.
“Nothing,” answered Thomas.
“Okay, pick the pen up, then go.”
Without a word, Thomas grabbed the pen and ran out the door as his father paid. Later, at home, Thomas was taking me to his room when I tried to talk again: “Hello Thomas...”
“Wh-wh-who said that?” he almost cried.
“No, don't cry, Thomas, look down!”
Thomas looked down at me, “Inky, you are talking!”
“No, no, I am Dinky – D-D-Dinky, not Inky!” Thomas looked hurt, so I said, “Look, I can write too!” On his hand,
I wrote “Hello Thomas Jefferson” in what he later called “Neat cursive.”
That brightened Thomas up. “I have to go show this to Pa!” he said, jumping.
I stopped him. “It has to be our little secret, or I won't do anything!”
“Fine!” Thomas said, and he carried me into his room. There, I believe, a true friendship began.
When Thomas was about 9 years old, he started taking foreign language classes. Of course, he brought me with him. He was first to learn French, then Latin, then Greek. On his first day of French class, he was asked to write down all the words in French he knew. Apparently, Thomas only knew a few words in French, so I decided to help him out. I wrote down 30 more words. Okay, I actually did the paper for him. Thomas was completely shocked! I was writing words that he didn't write, but he acted like he was writing.
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