Blue Vengeance Read Online Free PDF Page A

always been sick and stuff, but it’s gotten worse. She’s not like other mums. Yours, for instance.”
    â€œShe never yells at you,” said Paul.
    â€œI wish she would. Silence is way worse than yelling.”
    â€œNo, it isn’t.”
    â€œYes, it is. And so is quiet talk. You don’t know.”
    He suddenly remembered her saying
my dear lost boy
and tears stung his eyes. He forced them back.
    â€œShe doesn’t hit us or anything,” he said, trying to bring back the hate — he couldn’t have Paul witness his tears. “But she’s still mean.”
    He realized he’d have to get used to saying
me
instead of
us
, and all the variations on those words. There were a lot of extras added on to the matter of your sister dying.
    â€œPlus, she never teaches us…me anything. Aren’t parents supposed to teach you stuff?”
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œI don’t know…how to be. How not to die.”
    Paul was whittling a Y-shaped stick with his pocketknife.
    â€œMaybe if you had a dad, he’d teach you stuff.”
    Danny turned to look at his friend. “That’s a tremendously stupid thing to say.”
    â€œSorry.”
    â€œWhere the hell am I gonna get a dad?”
    â€œNowhere, I guess.”
    â€œWhat are you makin’?”
    â€œA new slingshot. My old one broke.”
    Danny longed to tell Paul about his plan. He was bursting with it, but he resisted the impulse. He didn’t want to put it in the wrong hands.
    â€œMaybe if my dad is teaching me something, I could phone you, and you could come over and learn it along with me,” Paul said.
    â€œThat’s not a bad idea. What types of things do you think he’ll be teachin’ you?”
    â€œI don’t know. How to change a tire?”
    â€œThat’s a good one. It’d be worth knowin’ for later, when we have cars.”
    â€œA red ’58 Thunderbird convertible,” said Paul. “That’s what I’m gonna have.”
    â€œI’m gonna have a ’57 Cadillac,” said Danny. “Powder blue.” He pictured the car he had seen through the rain at Cookie’s funeral.
    â€œPowder blue’s a suckhole colour,” said Paul.
    â€œNo, it’s not.”
    â€œYes, it is.”
    They walked back to Paul’s house for supper. Danny didn’t let his mum or aunt know what he was doing, and when Mrs. Carter asked him if he had, he said yes.
    Supper was meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans.
    Mr. Carter was a slow eater. Danny knew this from having eaten there before. He decided to take a bite only when Mr. Carter took a bite and to choose the same thing as he did each time. Meat loaf, beans, potatoes. Beans, beans, potatoes, meat loaf. He hoped no one was paying attention to what he was doing. It was the most fun he’d had since before Cookie died. He might tell Paul about it later, but he might not. It was more the type of thing he told Cookie.

7
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    During the next few days Danny cruised the neighbourhood for suitable stones, which he brought home and placed on a shelf in the shed.
    Since he was up from his chair and out and around, Dot decided she could go home, at least for a few days. Mid-week, Danny heard whispers coming from the living room as he sat at the kitchen table eating fried eggs and sausages that Dot had prepared for him. The words
pills
and
pull yourself together
were uttered more than once. From his mother’s side of the conversation came mostly sighs.
    She suffered from something called fibrositis. It was the cause of her fatigue and her pain. Heaven help you if you touched her — it hurt too much. She couldn’t bear to be touched. She needed pills for all kinds of things: stiffness, sleeplessness, what she called her
excruciating pain
. There were some yellow ones that she took
just to make me feel a little better
. The pills worried Dot. In her opinion there