Guy Wire

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Guy can't imagine life without his best friend, Buzz. They've been inseparable since second grade, when fate tossed them together with a little help from a bad haircut, green boxer shorts, flying rice cakes, and a couple of hard-earned nicknames. So when an accident threatens to tear them apart, Guy finds himself clinging to precious memories of the friendship he'd wished for all his life.

The ups and downs and inevitable complications of friendship have never been more funny, ...

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Guy can't imagine life without his best friend, Buzz. They've been inseparable since second grade, when fate tossed them together with a little help from a bad haircut, green boxer shorts, flying rice cakes, and a couple of hard-earned nicknames. So when an accident threatens to tear them apart, Guy finds himself clinging to precious memories of the friendship he'd wished for all his life.

The ups and downs and inevitable complications of friendship have never been more funny, poignant, and sweet than in this fourth installment of the Guy series.

Wishes can come true, but sometimes the things we wish for arrive in the most unlikely of packages.

When his best friend is seriously injured in a bike accident, Guy recounts their first meeting and how the friendship grew despite the weird antics of Guy's eccentric mother.

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
When best friend Buzz falls victim to a freak accident, Guy contemplates the meaning of fate in Guy Wire by Sarah Weeks. Despite its serious start, the fourth installment in the series begun with Regular Guy retains the humor of its predecessors (Oct.) Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.
School Library Journal
Gr 3-6-Guy Wire features the same characters as the three previous books. Weeks frames their earlier exploits with a bike accident that happens just before Buzz's 14th birthday. As Guy sits in the hospital waiting room hoping for the best and fearing the worst, he flashes back to when he and his friend first met in second grade. Buzz is not popular when he moves to the neighborhood. After all, his real name is Fennimore, he's wearing a suit, and he is overly polite to adults. Guy has his doubts about him until the new kid burps the alphabet for him. In keeping with the earlier stories, Guy's mom does everything wrong, resulting in some funny situations. The breezy conversations and observations will continue to please kids, but sometimes the boys' language, insights, and abilities don't mesh with their younger age. Children just starting second grade don't usually say "convinced" or "miraculously," read complicated letters, or treat their mothers as harshly as adolescents do. Still, there are touching moments in this lightweight and funny novel, the characters are as likable as ever, and Buzz's recovery, while abrupt, is certainly a relief.-Be Astengo, Alachua County Library, Gainesville, FL Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
Laughs won out over tears in Guy Strang's previous appearances (My Guy,2001; Guy Time, 2000, etc.), but not this time. Sitting in the hospital, waiting to hear whether his bosom buddy Buzz is going to live or die after being hit by a car, Guy flashes back to their friendship's rocky start, years ago in second grade. Though Weeks again plays expertly upon the continuing theme of Guy's struggle to be "normal" despite hilariously wacky parents-his well-meaning but feckless mother takes a star turn here, inspiring Buzz's nickname with some disastrous barbering, serving chocolate/liver pâté as an appetizer, and trying to costume the children playing bushes for the class play in St. Patrick's Day boxer shorts (" 'Clover is vegetation just like shrubs are' ")-Guy's anguish and guilt give the comedy a tinny feel. Even with generous helpings of realistically juvenile dialogue (" 'You look like green boogers' "), the warm glow of strangers becoming best friends, and the eventual news that Buzz is going to make it, readers' spirits are more likely to be weighted down than buoyed by this tearful episode. (Fiction. 10-12)
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780060294922
  • Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
  • Publication date: 10/28/2002
  • Edition description: 1ST
  • Pages: 144
  • Age range: 8 - 12 Years
  • Product dimensions: 5.50 (w) x 8.25 (h) x 0.65 (d)

Meet the Author

Sarah Weeks is an author, singer, and songwriter. Her many books for young readers include the My First I Can Read Book Splish, Splash!, illustrated by Ashley Wolff, and the I Can Read Books Baa-Choo!, Pip Squeak, and Drip, Drop, all illustrated by Jane Manning. She lives in New York City and the Catskill Mountains.

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First Chapter

Chapter One

"You know what I've been thinking about lately?" I said to Buzz as we rode our bikes down the street toward my house one afternoon during spring break.

"What to give me for my birthday tomorrow?" he said.

"No. I've been thinking about fate."

"What's fate?" asked Buzz, licking his palm and trying to plaster down the hair sticking up at the back of his head. He has a bunch of cowlicks, which make his hair stand up funny sometimes.

"Fate is like when stuff happens out of the blue and you can't really explain why," I said.

"You mean like belching?" Buzz asked.

"No, you gall bladder, like getting hit by lightning. Or happening to meet the person you're going to get married to while you're standing in line at the grocery store minding your own business."

"I'm never going to get married," said Buzz.

"You don't know that," I said. "For all you know, fate has her all picked out for you already. The future Mrs. Buzz Adams could be walking around Cedar Springs right now."

"Sheesh, Guy. That's creepy. You mean, even if I don't want to get married, I have to because of this fate thing?"

"You can't fight fate," I said. "It's a losing battle."

"If we actually do have to get married someday, do you think either one of us is gonna have a wedding like the one your mom had?" Buzz asked. "Remember that?"

"Remember it?" I snorted. "Are you kidding? She wore a dress made out of Styrofoam cups, and the groom played the wedding march on a hose nozzle. Who could forget something like that?"

My parents are divorced, and my mom got remarried last Valentine's Day. The ceremony, like mostthings my mother masterminds, was a bit unusual, to put it mildly.

"The thing about marriage is I think it's sort of like rolling dice. Everybody wants to roll a six and live happily ever after. But if it turns out you roll a four, then you've got to decide whether to stick with that or take a chance on rolling again," I said. "Sure, maybe you'll get lucky and roll a six the second time around, but then again you could end up rolling a two and be worse off than when you started."

"Are the dice real ones, or fuzzy ones?" Buzz asked seriously.

"What difference does that make?"

"Real ones roll better than fuzzy ones," he explained simply.

I stopped pedaling and looked at him.

"Why do you say stuff like that, Buzzard?"

"Like what?" he said.

"Like 'Real ones roll better than fuzzy ones.'"

"What's the matter with that? It's true, isn't it? Think about it, Guy. Fuzzy things don't roll very well. Take rabbits, for instance. It'd be hard to roll a rabbit, don't you think?"

We both lifted ourselves up off our seats, standing on the pedals in order to put our weight into an uphill climb.

"Do you ever actually listen to yourself when you talk? You say crazy junk like that as if it's normal. Nobody rolls rabbits," I said.

"There you go," said Buzz in a selfsatisfied tone. "You just proved my point. The reason nobody rolls rabbits is because they're too fuzzy. Am I right, or am I right?"

"You're nuts is what you are," I said.

The next hill was too steep to ride up, so we got off our bikes and walked them next to each other.

"Do you still make a wish when you blow out the candles on your birthday cake?" Buzz asked me.

"Of course I do," I said. "Who doesn't?"

"Personally, I'm thinking about giving it up this year," he announced.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I think I've finally outgrown it. Like Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy."

"Wishing isn't like Santa Claus," I said. "It's a real thing."

"Think about it, Guy Wire. Every year you're supposed to make a wish, and the deal is, if you get all the candles out in one blow it'll come true. Right?"

"Right, as long as you don't tell anybody what you wished for," I said.

"And you believe that?" said Buzz. "Come on, have you ever gotten anything you wished for?"

"Yeah," I said. "As a matter of fact I have."

"Oh, yeah? What?" he asked.

"I can't tell you that," I said, suddenly wishing I'd kept my big mouth shut.

"Why not?"

"I just can't," I said.

"The reason you can't tell me is because it's not true. Just admit it, Guy Wire."

"No, I swear, once I really did get what I wished for. I just don't want to tell you what it was, that's all. It might be dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Buzz said.

"Yeah, like maybe telling you about it could make the wish come untrue."

"That is such bunk." Buzz snorted. "Besides, the deal is we tell each other everything. So if there really is something to tell, spill it or else."

I wasn't sure exactly why it felt wrong, I just knew it did. But for some reason I took a deep breath and told him anyway.

"I wished for you," I said.

"What are you talking about, corn dog?"

"On my seventh birthday I wished for a best friend. A few months later you moved here. So my wish came true. Okay?" We'd reached the top of the hill, so we both got on our bikes and began to pedal.

"For real?" he asked. "Did you really do that? Wish for me?"

"I didn't exactly wish for you. I wished for somebody, and it turned out to be you," I tried to explain. "Can we please just drop it now?"

We rode in silence for a minute ...

Guy Wire. Copyright © by Sarah Weeks. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
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