For One More Day Read Online Free PDF Page B

impossible. But I didn't want it to end.
    "Mom?" I whispered.
    I hadn't said it in so long. When death takes your mother, it steals that word forever.
    "Mom?"
    It's just a sound really, a hum interrupted by open lips. But there are a zillion words on this planet, and not one of them comes out ofyour mouth the way that one does.
    "Mom? "
    She wiped my arm gently with the washcloth. "Charley." She sighed.
    "The trouble you get into."
    Times My Mother Stood Up for Me

    I am nine years old. I am at the local library. The woman behind the desk looks over her glasses. I have chosen 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne. I like the drawings on the cover and I like the idea of people living under the ocean. I haven't looked at how big the words are, or how narrow the print The librarian studies me. My shirt is untucked and one shoe is untied.
    "This is too hard for you, " she says.
    I watch her put it on a shelf behind her. It might as well be locked in a vault. I go back to the children's section and choose a picture book about a monkey. I return to the desk- She stamps this one without comment.
    When my mother drives up, I scramble into the front seat of her car.
    She sees the book I've chosen.
    "Haven't you read that one already?" she asks. "The lady wouldn't let me take the one I wanted. " "What lady?"
    "The librarian lady. " She turns off the ignition.
    "Why wouldn't she let you take it?" "She said it was too hard. "
    "What was too hard?" 'The book"
    My mother yanks me from the car. She marches me through the door and up to the desk
    "I'm Mrs. Benetto. This is my son, Charley. Did you tell him a book was too hard for him to read?"
    The librarian stiffens. She is much older than my mother, and I am surprised at my mother's tone, given how she usually talks to old people.
    "He wanted to take out 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne,
    " she says, touching her glasses. "He's too young. Look at him. "
    I lower my head. Look at me. "Where's the book?" my mother says. "I beg your pardon?"
    'Where's the book?"
    The woman reaches behind her. She plops it on the counter, as if to make a point by its heft.
    My mother grabs the book and shoves it in my arms. "Don't you ever tell a child something's too hard, " she snaps. "And never-NEVER-this child. "
    Next thing I know I am being yanked out the door, hanging tightly to Jules Verne. I feel like we have just robbed a bank, my mother and me, and I wonder if we're going to get in trouble.
    Times I Did Not Stand Up for My Mother
    We are at the table. My mother is serving dinner. Baked ziti with meat sauce. "It's still not right, " my father says.
    “Not again, " my mother says.
    "Not again, " my little sister mimics. She rolls her fork in her mouth.
    "Watch, you'll stick yourself, " my mother says, pulling my sister's hand away.
    "It's something with the cheese, or the oil, " my father says, looking at his food as if it disgusts him.
    "I've tried ten different ways, " my mother says.
    "Don't exaggerate, Posey. Is it such a big deal to make something I can eat?" "You can't eat it? It's inedible now?"
    "Jesus, " he groans. "Do I need this?" My mother stops looking at him.
    "No, you don't need it, "she says, scooping a portion angrily onto my plate. "But I need it, right? I need an argument. Eat, Charley. "
    "Not so much, " I say.
    "Eat what I give you, " she snaps. "It's too much!"
    "Mommy, " my sister says.
    "All I'm saying, Posey, is if I ask you to do it, you can do it. That's all.
    I told you a million times why it don't taste right. If it ain't right, it ain't right. You want me to lie to make you happy?"
    "Mommy, " my sister says. She is waving her fork
    "Acchh, " my mother gasps, lowering my sister's fork- "Stop that, Roberta. You know what, Len? Make it yourself next time. You and this whole Italian cooking thing. Charley, eat!"
    My father sneers and shakes his head. "Same old story, " he grouses. I am watching him. He sees me. I quickly put a forkful in my mouth. He motions