Egg-Drop Blues Read Online Free PDF Page A

at least we can use them for egg salad and other things. There's not much we can do with raw eggs except maybe wash our hair with them."
    "Ugh," both of us said.
    "That is truly gross," Jury said, rolling his eyes at me like I had told him to wash his hair with a raw egg.
    "Egg used to be the thing; you used to be able to buy shampoo with egg in it."
    Jury and I just looked at each other. I think he was trying to lighten up. He really doesn't hold a grudge very long, not nearly as long as I can hold one, but it takes me longer to get angry.
    "I picked up a copy of the rules today," Jury said.
    My head jerked around. He hadn't said anything to me about getting the rules, but then again, he hadn't said anything to me about anything all day.
    "Where are they?"
    "In my book bag."
    "Go get them."
    "Now?"
    "Yes, now!"
    That kind of enthusiasm from her scared me. It always meant work for us.
    Jury came back right away with his book bag, but it took him a while to find the booklet because his bag was jam-packed.
    "Here it is," he said, his hands still in the bag. He pulled out a glossy, slick-looking pamphlet. On the cover was a multiracial bunch of, apparently, happy kids, each wearing an identical red and white T-shirt. Mama took it from his hand.
    She continued eating her dinner as she read out loud. It was the first time I've ever seen her do that during dinner. She's a reader. I've seen her read just about everywhere, even during meals when she's eating alone, but never at dinner with all of us sitting there.
    "Hey, this rally is a big deal. It's nationwide, like the science fair."
    I looked over at Jury, but he was watching her read. Maybe he was more interested in the rally than he let on.
    "This is going to be fun."
    "Why do you say that, Mama?" Jury asked.
    "There'll be kids there from all over. There's three in the state on the same day. Look at this." She showed us a map of the state divided in three parts. "All the applicants for southwest Kentucky will be over at the college. This sounds like so much fun."
    I exchanged glances with my brother.
    "It says here, 'The egg must remain uncracked when dropped from the distance of twelve feet.'"
    "Twelve feet," I repeated—not because I wasn't sure I heard her, but so I would remember it.
    "Okay, I know that ladder out in the garage is nine feet. I wonder what you can use as a surface?" She wasn't asking us as much as she was asking herself.
    "What would you say the distance is from the patio awning to the ground?" Jury asked her.
    "I don't know, but I'm pretty sure it's higher than the ladder."
    "Why don't we just build something that can survive the drop from the ladder and then we can test it at school," I suggested.
    They both stopped eating and reading to look at me. It wasn't that profound, but that's how they were looking. Since the meeting with Mrs. Norville, they seem to think I'm incapable of a normal thought.
    "That's a good idea, Judge. What are they using at school?"
    "Somebody said the top of the gym, but I don't know yet."
    My mother stood with her plate. "Why don't the two of you brainstorm about the possibilities. Remember it can't cost more than a dollar-fifty to make."
    Last year she went to a P.T.A.-sponsored class on helping children with their homework. The speaker talked about "brainstorming" and "first drafts." Now every time we get ready to do something we have to "brainstorm" first, and every time she reads something one of us has written she'll say, "It's a good first draft." It doesn't matter if it's your last draft or not—she expects you to redo it.
    I heard her singing in the kitchen and, with all the banging around, I could tell she was doing the dishes—giving us time to "brainstorm."
    Sometimes Jury has an expression on his face that makes me think he's further away than most daydreamers. A couple of times, I heard him say
that he'd like to write a book, not just the world's biggest collection of expressions and clichés, but a