It was, without a doubt, very kind of Patrick to give Omri anything at all, let alone a secondhand plastic Indian that he himself had finished with.The Indian in the Cupboard Reading Group Guide Book Description : This 'The Indian in the Cupboard' by Lynn Reid Banks activity guide is set up so it can be used as a unit plan for the teacher, or used by students in literature circles. He was really very grateful—sort of. A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes.It was not that Omri didn’t appreciate Patrick’s birthday present to him. This Indian in the Cupboard summary by chapters will help you understand the main points of the book so that you can assist your child with a project, book report or to check for reading comprehension.Thanks for exploring this SuperSummary Plot Summary of The Indian in the Cupboard by Lynne Reid Banks. The Indian in the Cupboard is a book that can be equally enjoyed by adults and children, but you may not have the time to read it completely.
The Indian In The Cupboard Full Of Soldiers
The Indian in the Cupboard is a 1995 film adaptation of the book series by the same name, directed by Frank Oz. The compost heap was full of soldiers which, over several autumns, had been raked up with the leaves by Omri’s mother, who was rather careless about such things.The Indian in the Cupboard. Biscuit tinsful, probably three or four if they were all put away at the same time, which they never were because most of the time they were scattered about in the bathroom, the loft, the kitchen, the breakfast room, not to mention Omri’s bedroom and the garden. The trouble was, though, that Omri was getting a little fed up with small plastic figures, of which he had loads.
Gillon, his other brother, hadn’t bought him anything because he had no money (his pocket money had been stopped some time ago in connection with a very unfortunate accident involving their father’s bicycle). He got his dearest wish—a skateboard complete with kick-board and kryptonic wheels from his mum and dad, and from his eldest brother, Adiel, a helmet. That’s why I couldn’t play anything with him.”Omri opened his mouth to say, “I won’t be able to either,” but, thinking that might hurt Patrick’s feelings, he said nothing, put the Indian in his pocket, and forgot about it.After school there was a family tea, and all the excitement of his presents from his parents and his two older brothers. “I haven’t got an Indian.”“Nor have I. He tried not to show it, but he was.“Do you really like him?” asked Patrick as Omri stood silently with the Indian in his hand.“Yes, he’s fantastic,” said Omri in only a slightly flattish voice. But now they’d had about enough of them, at least for the moment, and that was why, when Patrick brought his present to school on Omri’s birthday, Omri was disappointed.
Why don’t you try all the smaller ones and see if any of them fit?”Most of the keys were much too big, but there were half a dozen that were about the right size. “And I’ve got a whole boxful of keys. He was not a very tidy boy in general, but he did like arranging things in cupboards and drawers and then opening them later and finding them just as he’d left them.“You might say thank you before you start complaining,” said Gillon.“It’s got a keyhole,” said their mother. He loved cupboards of any sort because of the fun of keeping things in them. So Omri was quite excited as he tore off the paper.Inside was a small white metal cupboard with a mirror in the door, the kind you see over the basin in old-fashioned bathrooms.You might suppose Omri would get another disappointment about this because the cupboard was fairly plain and, except for a shelf, completely empty, but oddly enough he was very pleased with it. The three boys used to play there sometimes, and occasionally found treasures that other—perhaps richer—neighbors had thrown away.
Now he closed his eyes and unwished the test pass and wished instead that this little twisty key would turn Gillon’s present into a secret cupboard.The key turned smoothly in the lock. He did hope very much that it would turn, and regretted wasting his birthday-cake-cutting wish on something so silly (or rather, unlikely) as that he might pass his spelling test next day, which it would take real magic to bring about as he hadn’t even looked at the words since they’d been given out four days ago. Omri saved that key to the last.None of the others fitted, and at last he picked up the curly-topped key and carefully put it in the keyhole on the cupboard door, just below the knob. A narrow strip of red satin ribbon was looped through one of its curly openings. The unordinary one was the most interesting key in the whole collection, small with a complicated lock part and a fancy top.
Just as he was dropping off to sleep his eyes snapped open. “I found it when I was putting your trousers in the washing machine.”Omri carefully stood the Indian on the shelf.“Are you going to shut the door?” asked his mother.He did this and then kissed his mother and she turned the light out and he lay down on his side looking at the cupboard. In it was Patrick’s Indian. Besides, I haven’t any other medicines.”“Why don’t you pop this in?” his mother suggested, and opened her hand. “You could keep your nosedrops in it.”“No! That’s just wasting it.
At last, he put out his hand and touched it. Who wouldn’t be? Undoubtedly there was something alive in that cupboard. A pattering a tapping a scrabbling and—surely?—a high-pitched noise like—well, almost like a tiny voice.To be truthful, Omri was petrified. The noise actually woke him.He lay perfectly still in the dawn light staring at the cupboard, from which was now coming a most extraordinary series of sounds. His eyes closed again.In the morning there was no doubt about it.
He was crouching in the darkest corner, half hidden by the front of the cupboard. And he wasn’t standing upright. But he wasn’t on the shelf anymore, he was in the bottom of the cupboard. At last he cautiously turned the key and opened the cupboard door.Omri sat up sharply in bed and peered into the dark corners. Had he imagined it? The noise did not start again. The noise from inside instantly stopped.He lay still for a long time, wondering.
But something (he wasn’t sure what) stopped him. He stood pressed against the inside wall of the cupboard, clutching his knife, rigid with terror, but defiant.The first coherent thought that came into Omri’s mind as he began to get over the shock was, “I must call the others!”—meaning his parents and brothers. His lips were drawn back from shining white teeth, so small you could scarcely see them except when they caught the light. The Indian’s eyes were black and fierce and frightened. They just stared at each other.
His knife, raised above his head, flashed. His black hair flew and the fringes on his leggings fluttered. He reached his hand slowly into the cupboard.The Indian gave a fantastic leap into the air. He didn’t want to frighten him any further, but he had to touch him. And who could blame anyone for not believing this unless they saw it with their own eyes?Another reason Omri didn’t call anyone was that, if he was not dreaming and the Indian had really come alive, it was certainly the most marvelous thing that had ever happened to Omri in his life and he wanted to keep it to himself, at least at first.His next thought was that he must somehow get the Indian in his hand.
But not so much as he jumped when the little knife pierced his finger deeply enough to draw a drop of blood.
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