House of Wings Read Online Free PDF

moment was that one was young and one was old. “I hope he does die.”
    His grandfather had an old dusty face and old dusty clothes, but his eyes, fixed on Sammy, were very bright. He said, “I don’t reckon you mean that.”
    “I do too mean it. Let him die.”
    Behind his grandfather, the crane took one step toward the bushes. He tried to move through them, but the foliage was too thick. He remained pressed into the leaves.
    “Boy, you don’t—”
    “Don’t you tell me what I mean and what I don’t mean! I wish that old crane would just fall down dead right this minute.” Sammy glanced down, and his eyes focused on a rock by his foot. With his eyes blazing he picked up the rock and threw it at the crane. The rock missed, but the crane jerked his head around and tried to run forward into the bushes again.
    Sammy’s grandfather seemed to get a little taller. He said, “Well, you just go on to Detroit, hear? Just head on out of here. Keep on running as long as you want to. Ain’t nobody going to try and stop you this time.” He made a sharp shooing gesture with both hands. “Go on. You don’t belong here.”
    Sammy stood there. He was startled by the violence of his grandfather’s reaction. He stepped back and said, “I will go. You think I won’t, but I will. I’ll show you.”
    “Well, go on then. Show me. What are you waiting for?”
    Sammy stuck out his chin and did not answer.
    “Don’t keep me standing here all day. I got work to do. I got to get this crane home one way or another. I got to save this crane’s life. Get going!” His grandfather looked at him, his eyes burning in his old face. “What are you waiting for?”
    “I’m not waiting for anything.”
    “Then go! Get away from here!” And then he spoke to Sammy as if he were an animal. “Git!” he said.
    Sammy stayed as if he were rooted to the ground. His grandfather was wilder than his clothes now, wilder than the woods. He threw his hands into the air. “Git!” he cried again.

DECISION
    “I T WOULD SERVE YOU right if I did go,” Sammy said, baring his teeth. He continued to stand where he was. He put his hands on his hips and then he let them slide down into the pockets of his pants. He could feel his belongings—his knife, his fighting rocks, some rubber bands, a ring he had found on the road one day, a magnifying glass advertising Roger’s Fertilizer, and some hazel nuts. They were things from home and Sammy felt surprised to find them there now. They were strange objects.
    His grandfather was still staring at him. Sammy looked back at his grandfather, his chin out. In his pockets each of his hands clutched a rock. He kept these rocks in case of a fight. They fitted his hands perfectly. He could beat anybody with these rocks in his hands. He took his hands out of his pockets, the rocks as tight in them as seeds in a peach, and put his fists up a little.
    “Git!” his grandfather said. He was terrible to behold. He seemed to darken like a thunder cloud. His voice trembled with power. “Git!”
    Sammy thought of a movie he had once seen on television. There was a huge statue towering over a tropical village and an earthquake had started. The huge statue had trembled and shaken and twisted, and then it had fallen forward, crushing the whole village and splitting the earth.
    Sammy took one step backward. Still looking at his grandfather, he took another step. He kept doing this until he came up against a tree and then he stopped. He waited against the tree, the rocks getting a little looser in his hands.
    He waited to see what his grandfather would say next, but his grandfather’s face was set as firmly as if he would never speak again. His eyes were shadowed by his heavy brows so Sammy couldn’t see what they were like, but he knew they were set and hard too.
    There was a long moment in which Sammy and his grandfather looked at each other. Sammy said, “Why do you want me to go so bad anyway? You trying to get rid of