A Hole in My Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

again. Unmanageable like the rest of him? I wonder.
    â€œAren’t you going to ask about me?” Colin takes my head between his hands and forces me to look straight at him.
    â€œI guess you want me to talk to you, Colin. Do you go to school?”
    He shakes his head. “I stay at Mrs. Jomori’s. She has two baby girls. It’s boring.”
    â€œWhere’s your dad?”
    â€œHe’s a miner. He’s away.” Maureen grabs my arm and pulls me to the couch. “Let’s jump some more.”
    If I want this job — and I know now I do for sure — I figure I’d best calm the kids down and clean up the mess.
    â€œLet’s build a fort.” I pick up the two pillows and blankets strewn on the floor.
    â€œYay.” Three voices chorus.
    â€œHow?” asks Patricia.
    â€œFirst we tidy up, make space in the middle of the room. And then we build.”
    Over the next while the three children gather up the games and stack them in the corner with the books next to the TV. Meanwhile I straighten out the chesterfield and cushions, turn four chairs upside down in the middle of the room, and drape the blankets from the couch over the chair legs. We each choose a pillow as our sitting spot inside our new fort. I grab a battered blue copy of The Littlebits from the pile of books.
    â€œLet’s read a story.” Colin curls up on my lap, thumb in mouth. Maureen and Patricia snuggle in on either side. From the way the girls sigh I know they like the book as much as I did at their age.
    The door opens and closes. But I read on to the end of the chapter. Then I hush the girls with a finger and squeeze out from under Colin’s droopy body to go find Mrs. Quinn.
    In the kitchen, the table is set for four and a smell of something sweet comes from the oven. Mrs. Quinn looks up from her book with a smile. “You certainly have a way with them. The last girl I tried was older than you but they ran rings around her.”
    â€œColin’s asleep on the floor, Mrs. Quinn. In the fort.”
    â€œThanks, dear. You’ve been great. But before we decide for sure, I’d like to talk to your mother.”
    I feel my face flush. “I don’t have a mother.” Mrs. Quinn pauses, opens her mouth to say something but appears to change her mind.
    â€œThen I can talk to your dad?”
    â€œYou can. But you don’t need to. He’ll say it’s okay.” He doesn’t really notice me , I add to myself.
    â€œI’ll phone him anyway. You be here on Saturday then, let’s see, a little early, so I can show you the routine. About a quarter after twelve. Is that okay?” I know I want the money and I know I’m going to like it here. “If it goes well this Saturday then you have the job for good. I’ll check with my children, of course.” She presses a fifty-cent piece into my hand. “That’s for today. Thanks, dear. Can you see yourself out? I don’t want Colin to sleep too long or he won’t want to go to bed tonight.”
    â€œSay bye to them for me, then.” I slip on my boots and raincoat and partially open the still-dripping umbrella. “See you Saturday. Oh, and thanks.”
    I hurry home up Moody Avenue. My head’s in a busy cloud of counting all the money I’ll have when I hear a man’s roar.
    â€œGet yourself back in here, now.” Another roar. “If you don’t, I’ll give you something to complain about.” This time some of the words are slurred. I look around. There’s no one on the street but me. I’m scared. But then I see movement. A girl, curled up next to a forsythia bush. It looks like Dolores. It can’t be, but it is.

5

    On Monday, school is as boring as ever. Even Music, which I loved — and I really mean loved — in Penticton, is boring. Here, Mrs. Bramley strums on her autoharp and we’re supposed to sing. Hardly anyone does, and if