All-Season Edie Read Online Free PDF

beautiful women in hats, and men sipping drinks, but nobody bleeding or swearing at all. It’s from the forties, Robert says. The men tip their hats back with their guns and sip their drinks some more and grimace.
    â€œBourbon,” Robert informs me seriously. “Someday I’m going to try some.”
    â€œI snuck some once,” I offer, my eyes still fixed on the screen. I’m wondering if the women will get to shoot anybody.
    â€œYOU DID?” Robert shouts, making me jump. He struggles to sit up. “WOW. What was it like?” He studies me intently.
    â€œAwful,” I say. “Worse than medicine.”
    Robert looks incredulous. “No,” he says. “That can’t be right. They drink it in the movies.”
    â€œHonest,” I say. “I think it’s what they give you at the dentist. It hurts your tongue.”
    â€œWow,” Robert says, but thoughtfully this time. He looks disappointed. “I can’t believe it. Are you sure? I bet you’re fibbing. I bet you never really.”
    â€œAsk my dad,” I say. “He caught me.”
    â€œOooh,” Robert says, flinching in sympathy. “Ouch.”
    â€œYup,” I say grimly, remembering. “And it wasn’t even worth it, either.”
    â€œWow,” Robert says for the third time, and I see he’s finally starting to believe me. “No kidding?” He squints at me, and I can tell he just thought of something else. “Do you always get caught?” he asks. “Don’t you ever get away with anything?”
    â€œNo,” I say. I figure getting away with something would be like catching a fish: it never really happens, not really.
    After the movie is over, Robert and I walk back to my cottage. Mom and Dad are sitting in deck chairs under the pines, sipping something from juice glasses. Robert and I look at each other significantly, but I notice that Dad has his glasses off again and Mom’s lips are tight, and they’re not talking or looking at anything in particular until we’re practically on top of them. When Dad notices us, he blinks and says, “Okay.”
    Robert asks, “Fishing in the morning?”
    â€œYup,” I say.
    Dad says, “Better fit it in while you have time. We’re leaving the day after tomorrow.”
    â€œNo we’re not,” I say. “We have another week.”
    â€œChange of plan,” Mom says. “Grandpa’s feeling just a little, little, tiny bit worse and we’re going to go home early just to help out.”
    â€œGrandma phoned while you were watching your movie,” Dad says.
    â€œTiny, tiny,” Mom says because I’m looking hard at her, and she knows why.
    I go to bed pondering and dream Dad is fishing from the jetty with a jam jar tied to the end of his line while the diamond girl aims a gun at him. Then he catches an immense killer whale, which drags him into the water and down to the bottom of the lake. When they drag him up again, he has black lips and there are shells in his eyes and the lake glows blindingly in the late afternoon sun with a color like laughing. It doesn’t feel like a nightmare.
    It seems as though my last full day at the lake will be like all the others: fishless.
    â€œGrade six,” I’m saying. “I start French immersion this year.” We’re talking about school. Robert lives in the city and goes to a school I have never even heard of. He has violin lessons and a pass to the planetarium. He says he can walk to the planetarium from his house and his mom can walk to Safeway, but I don’t believe it. Nobody just walks to places like that.
    â€œGrade seven,” he’s saying. “I like French. What I hate is gym.” Then he gets a funny look on his face and tugs at the rod. “Oh no,” he says.
    â€œFISH!” I yell.
    The rod jerks like a live thing. Robert starts reeling in, faster and faster.