Bill Talbot

 

 Twelve-year-old Russell McPhail is having trouble fitting in during his first year of junior high school. While he longs to become more popular, his painful self-consciousness and fear of embarrassing himself prevent him from taking part in school life. His fortunes start to improve when he discovers an injured teen idol on a remote ski run and gets credit in the media for rescuing him. Hoping to parlay this fame into popularity at school, he exaggerates his role in the rescue which unleashes a series of disastrous events that get him in trouble with his mom, the school principal, and the school bully. Russell's vivid imagination produces unique solutions to his problems which leads to hilarious results.
 
Why Couldn't I Just Keep My Big Mouth Shut treats the issues of poor self-esteem, and anxiety about friendships and social standing with sensitivity but also with humor, an approach that is both appealing to and appropriate for younger teens. This novel is a fast easy read that should be particularly engaging for reluctant readers. 

"Russell is a wonderful character with his penchant for getting himself into deep waters (or fast ski runs)." Governor General award-winning YA author, Glen Huser
 

 

 Chapter 1 A New Start
 
Russell would never have landed in so much trouble if he had only bothered to clip his toenails. On the day that the series of disastrous events unfolded, Russell leapt out of bed at the first sign of daylight. It was just like Christmas morning. He was sure that he had already been awake about a hundred times, but he had forced himself to lie there, dozing. It had seemed like the day would never arrive, but now it was finally here, he could barely contain himself. It was his first chance to go skiing in the mountains and he couldn't wait.
 
A ski resort in the mountains! Russell had seen plenty of James Bond movies, so he knew exactly what to expect: fancy cars, cool people, beautiful girls, and now he was going to be part of it. He and his friend, Sean Goodman would be leaving with Sean's family early this morning for the hour and a half drive to Nakiska, former site of the Winter Olympics and Russell was sure, of a glorious new future for him.
 
He grabbed at the wad of clothing that he had tossed on the floor last night. What to wear? Jeans for sure. He pulled them on. But what else? He was borrowing Sean's old jacket and ski pants, but would they be warm enough? He had better check with Sean. He reached for his phone. Sean never responded to texts very quickly, so he so he scrolled down to Sean's phone number.
 
The phone seemed to ring for an awfully long time. Russell was just about to hang up, thinking that he had the wrong number, when a faint voice croaked, "Hello?" It didn't sound like Sean. For some reason his dad must be answering his phone.
 
"Hi Mr. Goodman, is Sean there?" Russell began. "I was wondering..."
 
"Russell?"
 
"Yeah, can I speak to Sean please?"
 
"Russell, this is Sean's mom, and it is four o'clock in the morning." Mrs. Goodman snapped. "Sean is asleep. And so was I," she added, her voice rising, and sounding more annoyed as she became more awake.
 
Four o'clock. That was impossible. The sun was starting to come up. "Are you sure?" He demanded.
 
"Yes Russell! Now go back to bed and phone at a decent hour." The phone went dead.
 
Russell was confused. He reached for his bedroom curtain and pulled it back. It was dark alright. Not a sign of any kind of light, let alone the sun. He was just about to let the curtain swing back across the window when the yard next door flooded with light. Russell barely had time to begin contemplating this new mystery when Hobo, the neighbor's black lab, appeared from under the steps and trotted happily under the yard light he had triggered with the motion detector. Well, that explained the light. Why hadn't he just taken a minute to check the clock before phoning and making a fool of himself? And why hadn't he been more careful and made sure he had "Sean's cell" not "Sean's home number."
 
He flopped back on his bed. What to do now? He had made Sean's mother angry by phoning in the middle of the night and had insulted her by implying that she sounded like a man. Russell hoped that she was not so angry that she would refuse to take him along. With a familiar sinking feeling in his stomach, he realized that he had not even said he was sorry before she hung up. He briefly flirted with the idea of phoning back to apologize but quickly put that out of his mind as the second dumbest idea he had ever come up with.   Well, that was it. He had probably blown his only chance to go skiing. And this was no ordinary ski trip. It was going to be the first step in the making of the new Russell McPhail.
 
As he contemplated his lost opportunity, the familiar feeling of shame washed over him, and he began to relive the memory of his first day at school. He had been nervous about starting in a new school where only a few friends had come with him from his elementary school. That day as he arrived at school, he took a quick scan of the hallway to see if there was anyone he knew. There wasn't. There were only a few kids at their lockers and one group of boys gathered together, laughing at something.
 
After standing by himself for what seemed an eternity, Russell made a quick calculation. What was worse, standing alone like a dork or taking a chance that the boys would be friendly. He sidled up to the group. They glanced curiously at him for a moment, then went back to their conversation. This wasn't too bad. They weren't exactly friendly but hadn't rejected him. He stood there on the edge of the group feeling awkward, looking for a way to join in.
 
"And then she kicked me out of the room," one boy was saying.
 
 
Russell saw his chance. "It's enough to give a chicken a migraine", he blurted out, choking on the last word as he started laughing at his own humor. It was something he had heard his older cousin say and he thought it was hilarious, but these boys just stared at him with expressions that clearly said, "what an idiot". Russel stood for a moment stunned, then melted away to stand once again by himself.
 
That was bad, but things only got worse. As the term progressed Russell felt more and more left out. That incident had helped to turn his natural shyness into anxiety. He was wary of trying to make new friends, and now it seemed that his fear of looking foolish had grown so much that it now ruled every aspect of his life. He lived in mortal terror of saying or doing the wrong thing, of being noticed, and his every move was calculated to make sure that he didn't stand out. He longed to join in and be part of the crowd but his fear of making a fool of himself in front of all these new kids stopped him cold. While in his mind, he could imagine himself confidently entertaining Cheryl and the other popular girls in his class with his wit and charm, in reality he could barely bring himself to say "Hi" without becoming tongue tied.
 
He didn't have the aloofness of Dylan, whose half grin, raised eyebrow and amused detachment defined cool. He didn't have Chris's silly antics and constant laugh that made him sooo funny. He didn't even have Ajay's natural warmth so that everyone was drawn to him. All he had was his puppy-like eagerness and his shyness. Only with Sean, his friend since grade one, did Russell feel comfortable and able to be himself.
 
The ski trip had come about near the end of the term, when Russell was so miserable that he decided to reveal his unhappiness to Sean.
 
"I don't fit in here," Russell looked down at his feet to hide his shame at the confession.
 
"What do you mean?"
 
"I hardly have any friends. There aren't any groups that I fit into. I'm not a skater or a brain, I'm definitely not cool, but I don't want to hang around with the nerds."
 
Sean thought for a moment. "Why don't you take up a sport. I made lots of friends in hockey."
 
"I can't skate."
 
"Well, what about another sport? Soccer?"
 
"Are you kidding? Have you ever seen me run. Look at these stumpy legs. I look like a penguin running the hundred-yard dash."
 
Sean started to laugh, but stopped as tears started to form in Russell's eyes.
 
"What about tennis?"
 
Russell just looked at him.
 
"Right. Running!" Sean thought for a minute. "I got it. Skiing"
 
"Isn't that really hard?" Russell was doubtful.
 
"Naw, you can learn it in a day. Hey, we're going on a family ski trip to Kananaskis in January. You can come with us, and I'll teach you to ski."
 
Russell hesitated, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. And this spurred his resolution. Then and there, he vowed to himself that his fear of being embarrassed would no longer stop him from missing out on everything. This ski trip was his first big chance to try something new, to create his confident new self.
And now he had blown it. He reached for the television remote and numbly began to flick through the guide, looking for something to watch, until he finally nodded off.

 

Chapter 3
Disaster at Nakiska
(excerpt)

The line for the chairlift was short and in no time, Sean and Russell were swept off their feet and settling back in the swaying chair. They rose higher, over the treetops, and soon Russell was looking down on what seemed to be the whole side of the mountain, with miniature skiers weaving their way down the different trails. It was so exhilarating that his spirits were immediately raised, and he even forgot any anxiety he'd initially had about how to get off the chair, until they were at the top. There was a brief moment of panic, but Sean grabbed his arm, pulled him forward and held him upright as they coasted over to the top of the run.
 
"Just remember to keep turning from side to side so that you don't get going too fast," Sean warned as he pushed off.
 
The hill looked awfully steep, but Russell forced himself to begin. The first few turns weren't too bad, but as he picked up speed the pressure against his toes became worse until it felt like his toenails were being pushed right back into his big toes. The pain was becoming unbearable and soon he couldn't force himself to turn if his life depended on it. Worse, he was still picking up speed. Soon he would be totally out of control.
Suddenly the hill took a sharp drop. This was it. He was going to die. By now he was going so fast that he could hear the wind whistling past his ears and he could feel his skis wobbling as he started to lose control. He crouched to keep his balance, but with horror, he realized that this was only making him go faster. He thought about just falling down, but it was way too late for that. It would be like jumping out of a speeding car.
 
Then he looked up. Directly ahead was a line of skiers waiting for the lift, and behind them loomed the rental shop. Russell just had time to let out a horrified scream. The line of skiers dissolved into a mass of jumbled arms, legs and skis as they dove to get out of the way. The only thing left in his way was the solid cement wall of the rental shop. Russell collapsed. As he hit the snow, his skis bounced crazily up and struck the shop while Russell disappeared out of sight between the support posts and under the shop.
 
There was a stunned silence for a moment then a melee, as anxious skiers, led by Sean raced toward the rental shop to pick up the pieces of Russell.

 

The line for the chairlift was short and in no time, Sean and Russell were swept off their feet and settling back in the swaying chair. They rose higher, over the treetops, and soon Russell was looking down on what seemed to be the whole side of the mountain, with dozens of skiers beneath them weaving their way down the different trails. It was so exhilarating that his spirits were immediately raised, and he even forgot any anxiety he'd initially had about how to get off the chair, until they were at the top. There was a brief moment of panic, but Sean grabbed his arm, pulled him forward and held him upright as they coasted over to the top of the run.
 
"Just remember to keep turning from side to side so that you don't get going too fast," Sean warned as he pushed off.
 
The hill looked awfully steep, but Russell forced himself to begin. The first few turns weren't too bad, but as he picked up speed the pressure against his toes became worse until it felt like his toenails were being pushed right back into his big toes.
 
The pain was becoming unbearable and soon he couldn't force himself to turn if his life depended on it. Worse, he was still picking up speed. Soon he would be totally out of control.
 
Suddenly the hill took a sharp drop. This was it. He was going to die. By now he was going so fast that he could hear the wind whistling past his ears and he could feel his skis wobbling as he started to lose control. He crouched to keep his balance, but with horror, he realized that this was only making him go faster. He thought about just falling down, but it was way too late for that. It would be like jumping out of a speeding car.
 
Then he looked up. Directly ahead was a line of skiers waiting for the lift, and behind them loomed the rental shop. Russell just had time to let out a horrified scream. The line of skiers dissolved into a mass of jumbled arms, legs, and skis as they dove to get out of the way. The only thing left in his way was the solid cement wall of the rental shop. Russell collapsed. As he hit the snow, his skis bounced crazily up and struck the shop while Russell disappeared out of sight between the support posts and under the shop.
 
There was a stunned silence for a moment then a melee, as anxious skiers, led by Sean raced toward the rental shop to pick up the pieces of Russell.