Fat & Bones Read Online Free PDF Page A

seeing maggots do their work, but they did their job awfully well. And anyway, it wasn’t as if that old farmer deserved better. He really had been a beast.
    Famished, Priscilla Mae carried on her way, the song stuck in her head.

    Mrs. Bald lies on the floor weeping. Her heart is breaking. My own pain is salved somewhat by the happy plan of revenge inside my brain. But it’s not quite time for revenge—it’s time for love. Not to worry, this is not a love story with singing cherubs and heart-shaped chocolates. This is a love story with a wicked turn.

Alice. Oh, Alice.
    From dawn until dusk, Jimmy thought of her. At night, he dreamt of her. His head, his heart, filled with the abiding love of which poets write.
    That is a whole lot of love for so small a mouse.
    Alice, meanwhile, was the biggest mouse on the farm.
    Not that Jimmy cared a whit whether Alice was as large as an orange or as small as a walnut. He loved her, and that was that.
    When his father said, “Still pining after that Alice, Jimmy, my boy?” Jimmy would say, “You betcha.”

    When his brothers teased him and said, “You gonna marry that big mouse and let her boss you around?” Jimmy would say, “You betcha.”
    When his mother said, “Jimmy, are you going to actually talk to Alice one day?” Jimmy would say, “You betcha.”
    But one major obstacle had prevented Jimmy from talking to Alice. He dreamt and loved from a distance, for an ocean of kitchen floor lay between them. And that floor was ruled by the very large, very unpredictable cat.
    On some occasions, the cat would permit the house’s mice to travel across the floor unbothered. He was even rumored to have once said pleasantly, “Good afternoon, mousie-pie.” On other occasions, he would rest on his side, tail flipping nonchalantly, then spring up and crush a mouse between his teeth.
    A mouse never knew what to expect from the cat. Not even Jimmy wanted to risk such fickleness, even to speak with his beloved Alice.
    One day, however, Jimmy overheard Smitty talking to Buster.
    â€œAlice,” said Smitty.
    â€œLordy, you aim high,” said Buster.
    â€œShe’s the one for me,” said Smitty.
    â€œWhen will you ask her?”
    â€œTonight.”
    â€œThe cat?”
    â€œI’m not afraid.”
    Jimmy did not need to hear any more of the conversation. Smitty was a handsome mouse, arguably the handsomest on the farm. A fire started in Jimmy’s heart. It traveled up into his head and down to the tip of his tail. He knew he could waste no more time.
    At dusk, after finishing his chores, Jimmy made plans to cross the kitchen floor. If he lost his life in the pursuit of Alice, then so be it. Many mice had perished for less noble a cause than love.
    â€œDon’t do anything stupid, dear,” said Jimmy’s mother.
    â€œGive that Alice the kiss of her life,” said Jimmy’s brothers.
    â€œCome back in one piece, now, you hear?” said Jimmy’s father.
    â€œYou betcha,” said Jimmy.
    Leaving behind his family’s cautions, Jimmy stepped out into the darkness and stood against the baseboard of the second-floor hallway, straining to see out over the kitchen. He took note of every small movement. His ears stood straight out, picking up every sound.
    The farmhouse seemed quieter than usual.
    Night had fallen fast.
    To Jimmy’s right, stairs led down to the kitchen. He scurried to them and jumped from one to the next, stopping to listen for some sign of danger.
    Nothing.
    He jumped to the next step.
    Still nothing.
    He jumped down a few more.
    Jimmy inhaled deeply—it was now or never—and then took the remaining steps in consecutive leaps, skidding to a halt at the bottom.
    The kitchen was dark except for a thin beam of moonlight shining through the curtained windows. Something shiny and reflective covered the floor. Jimmy stretched out his foot and pulled back in