Defiant Heart Read Online Free PDF Page A

blonds.”
    “Oh, applesauce,” said Mary, “And, in any event, I don’t give a hoot about Vernon King. Never have.”
    #
    In the weeks following his arrival in Jackson, Jon and his grandmother had settled into an uneasy routine. She was rarely around when he awoke, returning to the house only in the early afternoon. On most days, she would then give piano lessons.
    Mondays were the exception. On those days, his grandmother brought out a pair of folding card tables from her bedroom, carefully arranged chairs around them, and set out refreshments. A group of women descended on the house, and they spent hours playing bridge.
    His grandmother made it clear to Jon that he was not welcome during these activities. Jon would have to go for a walk or retire to his room and read. Despite his vow not to dwell on his situation, there was no avoiding the bitter sting of this rejection.
    Jon and his grandmother ate one meal together, always at 5:00 sharp. They were uncomfortable affairs, his grandmother making no attempt to initiate conversations, her replies to his comments or questions typically short, inviting no follow up. The only time he got any kind of rise from her was the one time he mentioned the work shed.
    “You stay away from that place,” she snapped, her eyes flashing. After a moment, she asked, “You haven’t tried to go in there, have you?”
    Jon shook his head quickly.
    “Good. It’s not a place for you. Just leave it alone.”
    After that, they retreated to their usual awkward silence.
    #
    On the Fourth of July, there was to be a parade down Main Street, followed by a barbeque hosted by the chamber of commerce. Jon had seen flyers advertising the celebration posted about town. On the day of the event, he waited until his grandmother left, then followed a few minutes later.
    Compared to parades Jon had seen in New York, this one was small‌—‌a few classic Model Ts decorated with flowers and crêpe paper, a marching band, and a large float built on a flatbed trailer and towed by a fine set of six white horses, their manes braided with flowers. But what it lacked in volume was more than compensated by the enthusiasm and general merriment of the crowd. The town was decked out in an explosion of red, white and blue. The population seemed to have swelled to a multiple of its size, as families poured in from the surrounding countryside. The parade route was lined with people waving American flags. Young children darted about, laughing and swirling sparklers.
    The barbeque was held in a field just to the north of town. After waiting patiently in line, Jon accepted a hot dog from one of the volunteers manning the grills and, still favoring his bad leg, slowly made his way over to a line of trees. He found a spot next to a large sycamore and sat down in the shade, his back against the uneven bark.
    He was certainly no stranger to crowds of people he didn’t know. He’d been to the city many times with his parents. He and his brother had attended baseball games at Ebbets Field with his father. Two years earlier, his parents had allowed him to accompany his brother, on their own, to the World’s Fair in nearby Flushing Meadows, where the two boys easily mingled with the mass of people that filled the vast grounds. Never in his life, however, had he felt as isolated as he was now, so completely alone. He even found himself yearning for a glimpse of his grandmother.
    His grandmother. She clearly did not like him. From the moment he’d set foot in Jackson, she’d made no secret of her antipathy. Countless times, he had asked himself, Why? Weren’t they family? Didn’t family stick together? Most nights, he’d laid awake in his tiny room, a crushing loneliness constricting his chest. And it had taken a while. But he’d finally come to a rueful conclusion. Here he had been, wallowing in his own self-pity, so willing to lean on the only remaining member of his family that he had, for weeks, overlooked a