As Simple as It Seems Read Online Free PDF Page B

inside me and I was yelling again.
    â€œWhat’s the matter with you? Are you crazy? I didn’t say I wanted to go to town with you. Why would I want to go anywhere with you? Look at what you’ve got on. You look like you’re wearing a tent. I guess that’s what happens when you sit around all day eating cheese crackers.”
    â€œThat’s no way to speak to your mother, younglady,” my father said sternly. “You go up to your room this instant.”
    â€œThat’s what I was trying to do in the first place, remember ?” I said. Then I stormed upstairs to my room in a huff, slamming the door behind me so hard it made the walls shake.
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    My father was smart enough to retreat to his workshop out of the line of fire for the rest of that morning, but my mother couldn’t help herself. Five minutes after I’d been sent to my room, she was upstairs telling me to come back down. I apologized to her for what I’d said. I was truly sorry. Not only for hurting her but for judging her as well. I knew better, but hard as I tried, I just couldn’t seem to control my temper. My mother accepted my apology, but as soon as I got downstairs and settled in front of the television again, she started buzzing around me like a gnat.
    â€œCan I get you anything? A glass of juice? Pancakes?”
    â€œFor the millionth time, Mom,” I told her, “I’m not hungry.”
    My mother frowned and put the back of her hand to my forehead.
    â€œYou feel a little warm,” she said. “I’ll make you some Jell-O.”
    I couldn’t stand it any longer, so I turned off the television and went outside.
    Jack was in his favorite spot, cooling his belly in the dirt under the clothesline. Crooking my pinkie, I slipped it between my lips and whistled. Jack lifted his head, wagged his tail, and struggled awkwardly to his feet. He could walk and run as well as any other dog, but with only three legs, getting up was kind of hard for him.
    I whistled again and Jack came over, dipping his head and bumping my hand with his nose to try to get me to pet him.
    â€œP.U.,” I said, waving my hand in front of my face. “No pats for you, Stinkerbell.”
    A mourning dove flew by, landing with a clatter on a feeder hanging from the limb of a crabapple tree. There wasn’t a tree in our yard that didn’t have at least one of my father’s bird feeders dangling from its branches. He always kept them filled—black oilers for the chickadees, doves, and nuthatches, thistle seed for the finches, and greasy blocks of glistening white suet for the jays and woodpeckers. He’d even made a squirrel feeder, with an ear of corn stuck on a post and a glass jar full of peanuts.
    The garage door was open. Looking in at my bike,I thought about taking a ride, but where would I go? Annie and I would sometimes ride down the hill into town to watch the volunteer firemen play softball behind the firehouse, but I didn’t feel like doing that by myself.
    I heard a car coming up the road. Dietz Road is a dead-end street, and since ours was the only house on it (except for the Allen house, which hadn’t been occupied in years), I figured it was either one of my mother’s nutty scrapbooking friends coming to swap stickers and rubber stamps or a customer wanting to talk to my dad about a job. I was surprised when, instead of turning into our driveway, the unfamiliar blue station wagon drove right past, kicking up dust and gravel behind it. A woman in dark sunglasses and a floppy hat with a wide brim gripped the wheel, staring straight ahead, and I caught a glimpse of a face pressed up against the glass in the backseat. For a split second I thought it was a dog, but then I realized it was a boy with reddish hair, the exact same color as Jack’s fur.
    When the car reached the end of the road, those people, whoever they were, would realize their mistake and have no choice