Anybody Shining Read Online Free PDF Page A

judge.
    Lucille says maybe you don’t write because your handwriting is a sight and mine is so very nice. If that is the case, I will tell you the secret of my nice writing. I have practiced it over and over until I made it just as pretty as could be.In truth, I’m left-handed, but Mama wouldn’t let me stay that way. She believes left-handedness is of the devil and ain’t to be tolerated.
    When I learned writing, the pen was placed in my right hand and it was so hard for me I cried and cried over it. But Daddy said he would buy me a bag of molasses candy if I could make my writing nice. I’ll do almost anything for molasses candy. Also, I didn’t want to write with the devil’s handwriting. It’s bad enough having light-red hair and no freckles.

    My red hair is what caught the eye of the Baltimore children just as soon as me and James stepped foot into the clearing. One of the little ones pointed at me and said, “Look! She has hair the same as Cousin Clara!”
    The tall, bossy-looking girl shook her head fiercely. “Clara’s hair is brown with a hint of red when the sun shines on it. This girl’s hair is practically pink, and quite unbecoming.”
    James whistled underneath his breath. “You still think them Baltimore children’s so nice?”
    â€œNot that particular one, no.” I put my hand on my cheek, which felt hot, like someone had slapped it. “But she don’t speak for the whole crowd.”
    â€œMaybe she does,” James said. “You gonna wait to find out?”
    A whispered voice popped up from behind us. “You want me to kick her in the pants, Arie Mae? I’ll do it, just don’t tell Lucille.”
    I turned around to see Harlan Boyd hiding behind a bush. If I ain’t never described Harlan Boyd to you, well, he’s a mess. He’s ten years old, scrawny as a half-starved cat, with muddy freckles splashed all over his skin and brown hair that sticks up in clumps no matter how much he spits in his hand and pats his head.
    â€œThat’s all right, Harlan,” I told him. “Some folks just ain’t partial to red hair.”
    â€œSome folks ain’t got the manners that God taught ’em,” Harlan replied, coming out from his hiding place.
    â€œGod don’t teach manners,” James told him.“You’re getting your Sunday school learning mixed up with what Lucille’s learning you.”
    â€œIt’s hard to keep it all straight, that’s a fact,” Harlan admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets and taking a good spit at the dirt. Then he yelled over to the Baltimore children, “Hey, there, ya rascals! Leave ol’ Arie Mae alone! She can’t help how she looks, now can she?”
    The bossy girl scowled in our direction, but that shining boy, he bust out laughing. Then he did something that purely surprised me. He reached over and yanked the yellow ribbon straight out of that bossy girl’s hair. And when she screeched at him, he just shrugged and said, “Serves you right, Ruth.”
    Well, Cousin Caroline, I just had to go introduce myself to him right then and there. I tugged at James’s arm, and the two of us walked right up to them Baltimore children. I stuck my hand out to the shining boy and said, “My name is Arie Mae Sparks, and I am pleased to meet you.”
    The shining boy didn’t seem to know whatto do with my hand. In fact, he froze up the minute we walked over. The girl named Ruth tapped him on the shoulder and hissed, “Manners, Tom Wells!”
    I dropped my hand straightaway. “It don’t matter none. Not everybody cares for a handshake.”
    â€œTom’s just being timid,” the bossy girl explained. “My brother is shy around strangers.”
    â€œNo need to be shy around us,” I told the boy, whose cheeks were burning bright red. “We’re just regular children.”
    He’d