touched my head. “I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”
As he walked inside, I looked up at the clear sky, glad there was no rain in the forecast. Our family’s income relied on the farm, and too much rain could wipe out our crops. My father listened to the weather on the radio every mornin’. The familiar tinny sounds made their way upstairs to my room. Some mornin’s I’d lay in my bed and listen, tryin’ to nod back off, until Mama woke me an hour later. When Maggie was still home, on really cold mornin’s, I’d crawl into bed with her and steal her warmth.
I spent hours millin’ about the library, readin’ the backs of so many books I couldn’t keep track. I loved to sit between the rows of shelves, pullin’ book after book into my lap, and takin’ my time nosin’ through ‘em, lookin’ for the one that held voices that called out to me in a way I couldn’t turn away from. I’d run my fingers over the covers imaginin’ what I’d find inside. I was struck by how different I was from Maggie, who’d snag two or three books, leaf through the first few pages, and be ready to leave. To me, each book held the promise of a secret world, and disappearin’ into that world is simply delicious.
Later that afternoon, the bus dropped me off two blocks from our house. I carried my library books down the long dirt road, the tips of my shoes covered in dust. I heard the pedalin’ of a bike behind me, and I walked to the edge of the road to let it pass.
Jackson pulled up next to me and dropped his feet from the pedals. I whipped my head around, makin’ sure no one was watchin’. If Daddy had found out about us meetin’, he’d be sorely disappointed in me. I worried about him comin’ around the corner in his truck and scoopin’ me right off the road. God only knew what he’d do to Jackson. The thought sent a shiver up my spine. Luckily, there was no one in sight right then. My nerves were afire with trepidation, and somethin’ else that I hadn’t felt in quite some time—anticipation? As wrong as it might be, every time I thought of our first meetin’, I got hot all over, like blushin’ gone haywire. There was no mistakin’ the growin’ attraction within me, but I knew I needed to get my feelin’s in check and get back on track with what Daddy was expectin’ of me.
It took all my strength to continue walkin’. “We can’t talk,” I said, and walked faster toward home. The last thing his family needed was more trouble.
He stepped off his bike and hurried beside me. “Meet me later?”
I wanted so badly to know how the funeral went, if his aunt had escaped town safely. I didn’t respond to him.
“Please?”
I glanced up and saw the same kindness that I’d seen the day before, the same open, hopeful smile, so different than what I’d seen in Jimmy Lee lately.
“Where?” I asked.
“Same place, by the creek. Later, after I work for your dad.”
“It’s too dangerous.” My heart slammed against my chest. I stole a glance at him, still walkin’ as fast as I could. His smile slowly sank, his lips pressed into a disappointed line.
“You’re the first person ‘round here who—oh, never mind.” He climbed back up on his bike, his muscular thighs burstin’ against his dark work pants. “I guess you are just like everyone else.”
I watched him pedal away, dirt kickin’ up behind him in a billowin’ puff of smoke. I hugged my books to my chest, wishin’ I’d agreed to meet him.
By the time I reached my house, Jackson was already helpin’ Daddy in the barn. His bicycle lay sideways across the grass next to Daddy’s truck. I went around the back of the house and found Mama takin’ clothes off of the dryin’ line and hummin’ a little tune. I plucked a few of the clothespins off of Daddy’s t-shirts and laid them in the basket, watchin’ her move through her chores as she had every day of my life. Had I not known her secret, I’d never have pictured Mama
As he walked inside, I looked up at the clear sky, glad there was no rain in the forecast. Our family’s income relied on the farm, and too much rain could wipe out our crops. My father listened to the weather on the radio every mornin’. The familiar tinny sounds made their way upstairs to my room. Some mornin’s I’d lay in my bed and listen, tryin’ to nod back off, until Mama woke me an hour later. When Maggie was still home, on really cold mornin’s, I’d crawl into bed with her and steal her warmth.
I spent hours millin’ about the library, readin’ the backs of so many books I couldn’t keep track. I loved to sit between the rows of shelves, pullin’ book after book into my lap, and takin’ my time nosin’ through ‘em, lookin’ for the one that held voices that called out to me in a way I couldn’t turn away from. I’d run my fingers over the covers imaginin’ what I’d find inside. I was struck by how different I was from Maggie, who’d snag two or three books, leaf through the first few pages, and be ready to leave. To me, each book held the promise of a secret world, and disappearin’ into that world is simply delicious.
Later that afternoon, the bus dropped me off two blocks from our house. I carried my library books down the long dirt road, the tips of my shoes covered in dust. I heard the pedalin’ of a bike behind me, and I walked to the edge of the road to let it pass.
Jackson pulled up next to me and dropped his feet from the pedals. I whipped my head around, makin’ sure no one was watchin’. If Daddy had found out about us meetin’, he’d be sorely disappointed in me. I worried about him comin’ around the corner in his truck and scoopin’ me right off the road. God only knew what he’d do to Jackson. The thought sent a shiver up my spine. Luckily, there was no one in sight right then. My nerves were afire with trepidation, and somethin’ else that I hadn’t felt in quite some time—anticipation? As wrong as it might be, every time I thought of our first meetin’, I got hot all over, like blushin’ gone haywire. There was no mistakin’ the growin’ attraction within me, but I knew I needed to get my feelin’s in check and get back on track with what Daddy was expectin’ of me.
It took all my strength to continue walkin’. “We can’t talk,” I said, and walked faster toward home. The last thing his family needed was more trouble.
He stepped off his bike and hurried beside me. “Meet me later?”
I wanted so badly to know how the funeral went, if his aunt had escaped town safely. I didn’t respond to him.
“Please?”
I glanced up and saw the same kindness that I’d seen the day before, the same open, hopeful smile, so different than what I’d seen in Jimmy Lee lately.
“Where?” I asked.
“Same place, by the creek. Later, after I work for your dad.”
“It’s too dangerous.” My heart slammed against my chest. I stole a glance at him, still walkin’ as fast as I could. His smile slowly sank, his lips pressed into a disappointed line.
“You’re the first person ‘round here who—oh, never mind.” He climbed back up on his bike, his muscular thighs burstin’ against his dark work pants. “I guess you are just like everyone else.”
I watched him pedal away, dirt kickin’ up behind him in a billowin’ puff of smoke. I hugged my books to my chest, wishin’ I’d agreed to meet him.
By the time I reached my house, Jackson was already helpin’ Daddy in the barn. His bicycle lay sideways across the grass next to Daddy’s truck. I went around the back of the house and found Mama takin’ clothes off of the dryin’ line and hummin’ a little tune. I plucked a few of the clothespins off of Daddy’s t-shirts and laid them in the basket, watchin’ her move through her chores as she had every day of my life. Had I not known her secret, I’d never have pictured Mama
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