Amalee Read Online Free PDF Page B

that my father and stepmother, safe and sound in Georgia, don’t require a visit from their fat, bald, cantankerous son until Christmas. I am obviously needed here in the meantime.” Then he would present a huge, elaborately stuffed turkey, followed by a different exotic pie for every guest, from ginger mincemeat to vodka key lime pie, after which all of us would fight for the remote control and space on the couch. John always won, and we would watch black-and-white movies on TV.
    I stopped in my tracks as Lenore kept walking and talking. Would there be another Thanksgiving like that? Were things about to change? I lost my breath.
    I wasn’t sure if I’d make it through the day. I decided to pretend I was a river rock, letting the river of whatever hard words I heard today wash over me.
    I caught up with Lenore, muttering, “Yes, I’m sure I took the easy assignment. Maybe I was just feeling lazy.”
    â€œLaziness can be a bad habit,” Lenore lectured as we walked.
    The river of Lenore.
    When Ms. Severance didn’t call on me, when Mr. Hankel lost his temper at us, when Hally and Ellen observed that my shoe was untied, I let it wash over me. This stuff wasn’t important. I actually felt a little sorry for them all. Why did everyone waste so much time being unkind?
    I came home to my dad sleeping, so I tiptoed past his room. I looked around but didn’t find any of his friends.
    â€œAmalee,” I heard him call. I backed up, feeling a little nervous. We were going to have the big talk now? The one about how sick he was? He looked a little less terrible than he had this morning and certainly yesterday. He was still pale, but less green and less clammy.
    â€œHow was school?” he asked. “Do you have a lot of homework?”
    â€œI’ve got some,” I answered.
    â€œDo it here,” he offered, pointing to his desk. “On the big desk.”
    â€œOkay,” I said, carefully taking off the books and, at his suggestion, piling up his papers.
    I sat on a couple of couch cushions and spread my books across the massive desktop of dark wood. No wonder people bought big antiques like this. It made my homework seem more important.
    I looked over at my dad, who was already reading a book.
    So, no talk. We worked together for almost two hours, with him drifting off and shaking himself awake. He offered to quiz me on the pulmonary system. I asked him if he wanted a sandwich first.
    â€œThere’s nothing else to eat,” I complained. “Everyone brought food this weekend, but then they stayed and ate it!”
    â€œA sandwich would be perfect, Honey,” he assured me.
    The silence of the afternoon was contagious. The whole house was silent as the darkness came on. I shuddered a little as I slid around the kitchen floor in my socks, making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Should I just ask him if he was scared, maybe tell him not to worry about me, something like that? Maybe I could walk in and call him by his first name, the way we called my mother “Sally.” “ David? Is there something you’d like to talk about? ” I’d ask, making my eyes look very sincere. I spread Phyllis’s stiff health-food store peanut butter on the soft white bread Joyce had bought. Had they asked Dad if he was scared? I could ask Phyllis. I got out Carolyn’s homemade preserves and said a little prayer that they wouldn’t kill us all. Then I went upstairs.
    Dad was smiling at me as if nothing were wrong. “Where are those science questions?” he asked. We were just going over the names of lung diseases when we heard a big clatter downstairs.
    We looked at each other in alarm. Then we heard someone swearing. It was John.
    I hadn’t seen him since I’d insulted him. He was coming up the stairs, and before I could react, his head was in the room. “Hey ho,” he called, “I hear you’re bedridden, David. Hi,