Finding Fortune Read Online Free PDF Page B

I was standing, I could see a sliver of the room behind them—an old piano in front of a sunny window and a cat-climbing structure covered in bright green shag. And there was a wonderful flowery smell like rose petals wafting through the doorway.
    â€œWe’ll try to do a better job of keeping an eye on them,” Colette soothed in her feathery voice. “Won’t we, Clarissa?” Clarissa gave a begrudging nod.
    Hildy thanked the sisters before Colette closed the door, but she was still grumbling as I followed her down the stairs. “They never told me they were bringing those darn cats,” she fussed. “I let them have the music room. I let them bring in a man to tune the piano, and I even let them haul a stove up there so they could make that high-falutin soap of theirs.” She paused on the landing to catch her breath. “The least they can do is keep those animals from prowling around, jumping out and scaring me half to death.”
    Hildy must have noticed I wasn’t listening anymore. She followed my gaze up to the wall above the landing. “Isn’t that a pretty mural?” she said. “That’s what the riverfront in Fortune looked like once upon a time.”
    Dusty rays of sunshine streamed through the high window over the stairwell, lighting up a large wall painting of girls in aprons and boys in overalls gathered on the banks of the Mississippi. The view was from the water with the school set off in the distance, reigning over the scene from its rise of land. I tilted my head, trying to make sense of the other details. There were two boats heading toward the shore, and the children held buckets. One had what looked like a rake in his hand.
    â€œWhat are those kids doing?” I asked.
    â€œClamming,” Hildy said. “When my older brother, Tom, was a boy, he could go down to that spot on the river and scoop up mussels and clams by the bushelful. In those days most of the families around here were involved with button-making in one way or another, and the kids would help out whenever they could. My father had a clamming boat and Tom spent all his summers working on it. He had big dreams of running his own button factory some day.”
    â€œDid he do it?” I asked. “Open a button factory?”
    Her watery eyes dimmed. “No, he didn’t get the chance. The button business went bust and then he was one of the first soldiers to be called up for the Korean War. Poor Tom never came home.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” I said quietly. “My father’s in Afghanistan right now. He’s been there for almost a year.”
    â€œGood heavens.” Hildy winced. “That must have been his picture I saw last night next to your cot.”
    I nodded, and she patted my arm. “Don’t you worry, honey. That mess in the Middle East is nothing like the war my brother was in. Your father’s going to be just fine.”
    I followed Hildy to the bottom of the stairs. The foyer still looked lonely in the daylight, but not nearly as gloomy as the night before. Someone had brought my bike inside and propped it next to a kid’s scooter near a door with a frosted glass window marked SCHOOL OFFICE . The trophy case stretched across the other end of the foyer under a banner that I hadn’t noticed last night. HOME OF THE FORTUNE HUNTERS , it proclaimed in faded green letters trimmed with gold. The words drifted through my head as Hildy led me along one of the wings off the foyer. Fortune Hunters . It sounded so glamorous compared to the Bellefield Bulldogs.
    Hildy stopped and rapped on another door with a frosted window. This one said LIBRARY — QUIET PLEASE , but when we entered the rambling space where Hugh and his mother lived, I felt like I was stepping into a genie’s den. The wooden floors were covered with a patchwork of worn Oriental carpets, oversize cushions, and beanbag chairs. Even the ceiling, draped in