Fire by Night Read Online Free PDF Page A

the wagon like flies around a carcass.
    “How many blasted kids do they have, anyhow?” Willard murmured.
    The kids remained in constant motion—poking, punching, tussling with each other—so that Phoebe couldn’t even begin to count them all. The biggest girl, who looked to be about nine or ten, was the only one who stood still. She planted herself squarely in front of Phoebe, holding a squalling baby out in front of her as if waiting for Phoebe to take him. Phoebe retrieved her sack of belongings from the wagon and clutched it tightly to her chest in self-defense.
    “Go on! Y’all get out of the way now,” Junior yelled, “or I’ll run you over!” The wagon began moving slowly forward, and the flood of children parted like the waters of the Red Sea.
    “Hey, Ike,” Jack called, “if you find yourself in church on a Sunday, say a little prayer for us, okay?”
    Phoebe was too dazed to reply. She stared at the retreating wagon until it rolled around the corner, out of sight. This wasn’t happening to her. Her brothers should have tied her up in a sack and thrown her into Bone Creek like a litter of kittens if they didn’t want her—it would have been kinder than this.
    As the dust settled, the stream of swirling children surrounded Phoebe, propelling her forward through the back door and into the lean-to that served as the kitchen. The top of her head grazed the roof beams, where bunches of dried herbs were hanging. It took a long moment for her eyes to adjust to the scant light that seeped through the grimy window. The air was so greasy with the smell of bacon that it seemed to Phoebe that she could just scoop out a handful and grease wagon axles with it.
    “About time you got here,” Mrs. Haggerty said in greeting. She stood at the table with her hands in a pan of gray dishwater, scrubbing a frying pan. “They told me you was planning on getting here before lunch—so’s you could help me feed this brood. Now lunch is over and the dishes are done and here you are just showing up. What took you so long?” She slammed the frying pan down on the table.
    “Sorry, ma’am. We—”
    Mrs. Haggerty didn’t wait for an explanation. She lifted the dishpan with both hands, kicked the back door open, and slung the dirty water outside without bothering to look where it landed. Phoebe decided she’d better not stand around by the back door after meals.
    “Noon’s always the busiest time in the store,” Mrs. Haggerty said as the door slammed shut again. “That’s why I need you. My, you sure are a big gal, ain’t you? Built like a brick wall. No wonder you ain’t married. How old are you?”
    “Nineteen, ma’am.”
    “Don’t know who sewed your clothes, but you’re busting clear out of them. Never mind, you can sew yourself some new ones at night when the kids are asleep and your chores are all done. I’ll take the thread and cloth out of your pay.”
    “Oh no, ma’am. These clothes are fine,” Phoebe said as she saw her meager earnings going up in smoke—and for a hated dress, no less. “I don’t need—”
    “You take over with these kids now so’s I can get back to work. Store closes at six-thirty, and Mr. Haggerty and me are gonna want our dinner about then. Your brother says you can cook.” She removed her filthy kitchen apron as she talked and put on a slightly cleaner shop apron in its place. Before Phoebe had a chance to ask what she was expected to fix for dinner, Mrs. Haggerty disappeared through the door that led into the store.
    “Here, take him.” The oldest girl had planted herself in front of Phoebe again, only this time she dangled the squirming baby by his arms, ready to drop him on the floor if Phoebe didn’t catch him in time. “He’s poo-ey,” the girl said. “Change him.” Her voice was every bit as bossy and insistent as her mother’s.
    A smell like rotting cabbage drifted up to Phoebe’s nose. She had no choice except to set down her bag and grab the baby