A Piece of Heaven Read Online Free PDF

morning.”
    “What do they do to people who cry too much?” I asked, touching his elbow.
    “How should I know?” he responded. “They probably put Ma in the psych ward with all the other nutty people.”
    I hung my head. A tear rolled down my cheek. “She isn’t a nut. She’s our mother.”
    “Don’t cry, Haley.” He reached over and wiped away my tear. “But I do think that Ma is a little bit crazy. Didn’t you notice how weird she was acting?”
    “She seemed tired,” I admitted. “She was zoning out. I hope she feels better now that she’s at the hospital.”
    “People know Ma at the hospital,” Otis reminded me. “They’ll fix her up. Probably give her some kind of pills or something.” He cocked his head. “I wonder if she admitted herself. She
is
one of the admitting clerks.”
    “Be serious, Otis,” I objected.
    “I know a brother whose mom had a breakdown,” Otis reported. “She pulled through.”
    “A breakdown?” I said in a shaky voice. “Is that what you think happened to Ma?”
    “We’ll find out tomorrow,” Otis said. “We can’t do nothin’ about it now.” With a determined look on his face, he screwed his eyes back to the television.
    I wandered over to my bed, my heart thudding. I curled up, hoping to hear the telephone. My thesaurus was next to my pillow, along with my
Grimms’.
I looked for the moon, but clouds had covered it. Then I noticed an edge of silver light, which I took for a crescent. I waited for the moon to appear, but it never did. Maybe that edge was all there was left of the moon, I thought, covering my head with a pillow. Maybe the moon had burned out.
    The next morning, Otis woke me up with a basketball!
    “Will you shut up?” I groaned, rolling over. Yucky drool was in the corner of my mouth.
    “This is for you,” he said, directing a hoop shot toward the trash can. “It’s your birthday present.”
    “Why didn’t you give it to me yesterday?” I asked, wiping my face with the back of my hand.
    “I didn’t have it yesterday,” Otis said, looping the room. “My buddy gave it to me this morning, when I took back the television.”
    “Your buddy sure has a lot of stuff,” I commented in a groggy voice.
    Otis winked. “He knows what he’s doing.”
    I sat up on my elbow and sighed. The place looked like it had been bombed. Vegetables and grocery bags were strewn everywhere. “Did Ma call while I was asleep?” I asked hopefully.
    “Too early,” said Otis. He threw the ball and I ducked. “Get you some breakfast before I get out of here.”
    “Speak good English,” I snapped at him.
    “I’ll speak the way I want,” Otis snapped back. “You’re not my mother.”
    “And you’re not my father!”
    “Got that right,” Otis muttered, picking the ball up off the floor.
    “So, what do we do?” I asked, throwing my legs across the side of the bed.
    “About what?”
    “About Ma—what do you think? What’s wrong with you, Otis?” I griped. “You act like nothing happened. This is serious.”
    “I know that,” he said, leaning against the door. “That’s why I’m taking care of business. The best way we can help Ma is to work hard and be strong.”
    “Sounds good,” I admitted. “I just wish I knew how she’s doing.”
    “Call the hospital,” he said. “There’s the phone.”
    I stared at the telephone. “But Ma said that she would call us.”
    “So what?” he said with a shrug. “Give it a try. Tell her we’re worried about her.”
    “What number should I call?” I asked, crossing to the telephone.
    “Call Ma’s work number,” Otis suggested. “Maybe Sylvia will be there and tell you how to get in touch with her.”
    “Maybe you should call,” I said, getting cold feet. Suppose something really bad had happened?
    “You’re the one who can’t wait to talk to Ma,” Otis said stubbornly. “You do it.”
    I dialed Ma’s work number. A familiar voice answered.
    “Admitting. Sylvia Coleman