Henry's Sisters Read Online Free PDF Page A

Portland soon and get my black Porsche. I had to have my motorcycle for mental escape.
    Grandma’s Queen Anne is the most charming home I’ve ever seen. Inside it smells like fresh-baked bread, vanilla, cinnamon, and history.
    Our family’s history.
    I wanted to turn my bike and peel on out of there, one wheel up in the air.
    Janie and I stood in front of the house together like soldiers before a battle, though we did not have any grenades or assault rifles with us.
    The wind swirled around, like it was welcoming us home, fun and frolicking…mysterious.
    I have never forgotten the wind here.
    To me, the wind has always seemed like a person, with all the mood swings and rampaging, out-of-control emotions that we have. Sometimes it’s angry and whips around corners, sometimes it ruffles the river as it hurries towards the ocean, sometimes it puffs on by, gentle, caressing.
    ‘The wind never stops,’ Janie said, in wonder. ‘Never.’
    She grabbed my hand, pulsing it with her fingers. She does this when she gets nervous. She’ll squeeze my hand four times, then pause, squeeze it four times, pause again. She gasped a little. Coughed. Breathed in. Breathed out.
    ‘I feel faint,’ I said. ‘I may need a one-night stand.’ Sometimes I try to humour myself when things are particularly bleak.
    ‘I need to tap and count,’ she replied. ‘In fact, I think I’ll pause for a sec and count the roof tiles.’
    At that second, the door flew open and a man came sprinting out, legs pumping, arms waving. He was wearing a straw hat over brown curls, blue shorts, and a T-shirt that said ABC. His white shoes had Velcro straps. He had a tummy, he wasn’t as tall as me, his eyes tilted, and his smile beamed, as usual.
    He put his arms out wide as he hurtled towards us, screaming and laughing.
    ‘They here! They here!’ he shouted. His hat flipped off into that wind.
    We knew what would happen.
    ‘Now, Henry, no tackling us!’ Janie said, so kind, because she loves Henry, but she backed away, hands up.
    ‘Be gentle, Henry,’ I said. ‘Give us a nice, gentle hug. Gentle!’ I love Henry, but I backed up, too, sticking close to Janie.
    Henry was not to be stopped.
    Within two seconds, Janie and I were splat on the grass, tackled by our happy, mentally disabled brother who was on top of us, laughing.
    ‘You home!’ he announced, giving us both a kiss. ‘You home for Henry! Yeah, yeah. H-E-N-R-Y-H-E-N-R-Y !’
    I gave Henry a kiss on the forehead and said, ‘I love you, my brother, Henry.’
    Henry giggled. ‘I love you, my sister, Is.’
    Janie kissed both of his cheeks. We hugged him as my love for Henry walloped me hard.
    I heard Janie counting out loud. Soon we would be with our momma, a tricky sorceress; our grandma, who thought she was Amelia Earhart; and our sister, Cecilia, who has a hurricane for a personality.
    Honest to God, Henry is the only normal person in our family.
    The only one.
    A long wooden farm table slouched in the middle of the stunning, country-style kitchen Janie had paid to have remodelled so she could assuage the guilt she felt for not living here in the nuthouse with the viper.
    A vase of flowers, purples and pinks, in a clear, curving glass vase sat on the table. On the windowsill was a collection of old, colourful glass bottles, the sunlight shimmering right through them. A set of french doors let in that ever-present, meandering wind.
    Cecilia hugged both of us, bear-hug tight, then stood to my right, a sister-soldier in the battle against Momma/The Viper.
    Momma did not bother to stand from where she was sitting at the table cracking walnuts when Janie and I entered. She said, almost melodically, ‘Henry, darling, would you please go and pick me a bouquet of flowers? You’re the only one who can do it right.’
    ‘Yeah! OK dokay, Momma!’ Henry grabbed some scissors, blew us a kiss, then jump jump jumped out the door. ‘I bring the sisters in, now I get the flowers. I be right