Last in a Long Line of Rebels by Lisa Lewis Tyre Page B

good, but I prefer
junk
-rock.”
    He groaned. “That was seriously awful.”
    â€œSeriously funny you mean.” I looked around. “Need some help?”
    â€œYou want to help me dig the rest of these out?”
    I nodded. It would take a whole lot of scrap metal and rusty rebar to raise twenty-five thousand dollars, but if they wanted to try, I was game. “I’m ready when you are.”
    Isaac handed me his headphones and MP3 player. “If you’re going to help, you’ll need a little Metallica to get you going.”
    â€œBetter or worse than Foo Fighters?”
    â€œTotally different—heavy metal versus grunge rock. You’ll see.” He held out the shovel. “Start digging.”

    We’d just thrown the last piece of metal on the truck when I heard Mama’s car in the driveway. A few minutes later, she came into the backyard carrying a bag with the words JACKSON ARTS AND CRAFTS printed across the front.
    â€œTucker, things look better already,” she told my dad. “I’m impressed.”
    Daddy gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Did you find what you needed?”
    She rubbed her belly. “I think so. I’m going to get started before this one wakes up and starts moving around. It’s hard to concentrate while you’re being kicked.”
    â€œDon’t overdo it, Lily.”
    She smiled. “I won’t. How was church, Lou? No lightning or earthquakes, I hope.”
    â€œNo, just singing and preaching. Oh, and it was Homecoming, so we got to eat.”
    Daddy winked. “And you didn’t call me? I might have gone if I’d known that.”
    â€œI had to fight Benzer and Franklin for a deviled egg as it was.”
    â€œHa.” He hitched up his jeans. “I better get back to work.”
    Mama went down the path to the studio, while Daddy and Isaac started loading the back of the truck.
    â€œLou,” Daddy called, “can you get my gloves off the coffee table?”
    â€œSure.”
    I stopped on the front porch and watched everyone go about their business. I was glad to see that so far my parents seemed okay. Bertie says stress over money is the biggest cause of divorce. Maybe that explained what happened to Patty’s mama and daddy. After he lost his job, Uncle Henry started sleeping all day and going out at night. Aunt Sophie kicked him out of the house before you could say “boo.” Now he’s the manager of the movie theater over in Sparta, with a new wife and baby boy. But Patty and I get to see all the first-run movies for free, so that’s something.
    Daddy’s work gloves were lying on the table on top of some magazines. I bent to pick them up, accidentally knocking one of the magazines to the floor. The bright red masthead caught my eye.
Middle Tennessee Farm and Land
. I slowly turned the pages. There were homes for sale in Grey County, where we lived, but even more in neighboring towns like Crossville and Cookeville. If Daddy was looking for places to live, he must not be sure that he could raise the money for the attorney fees.
    None of the homes looked like ours. I folded the magazine up as small as I could, then walked with it to the kitchen. I stuffed it in the trash can, deep in the bottom, rearranging the garbage around it so that none of it was visible. We might have to move, but it wasn’t going to be because I didn’t do everything I could to stop it.

    Benzer and I sat on my front steps waiting for Franklin.
    â€œWhen did you say he’d be here?” Benzer asked for the third time.
    â€œAny minute, I hope!” We were as eager as Franklin to get started on his American Heritage badge, and we’d made plans to go to the new Grey County Museum. I pulled my notebook out of my back pocket and reread the list I’d written last night. It was short.
    The Verified Truth about the Mayhews
Ancestors of steel, according to Mrs. Hall.
Family