Hungry Spirits [Spirits 04] Read Online Free PDF Page B

not to laugh out loud at me. Nuts. I turned my attention back to Sam. “Well, are all immigrants Bolsheviks or Anarchists, Sam?”
    “ Of course they aren’t.” Again he sounded exasperated. “My father and mother were from Sicily, and they’re not Bolsheviks or criminals.” He eyed me coldly. “And neither am I.”
    Whoops. I’d forgotten for a minute that Sam was of Italian descent. “Sorry, Sam.” Boy, I hated apologizing to that man.
    He waved a hand as if to say, “Forget it.”
    “ Daisy Majesty, I don’t know what to do with you,” Ma muttered.
    Aunt Vi tutted.
    “ No,” Sam continued. “Most immigrants are perfectly law abiding and are happy to be here and away from famine and the destruction of war. As I said, we don’t allow many of them to enter. However, lots of them are going to South America, and some have sneaked across the border that way.”
    “ Oh.”
    “ What’s supposed to happen,” he said, repeating himself, “is that a fellow will have a job lined up and a work permit, and then he and his family can emigrate to one country or another—except this one, where they’re not generally welcome. If they want to come here, they have a better chance if they have a sponsor.”
    “ Oh.” That didn’t sound right to me, although I couldn’t put my finger on exactly why. “I thought people were supposed to send us their tired, weary and huddled masses yearning to be free.” My sixth-grade teacher, Miss Ischy, whose grandparents had come here from Switzerland, had taught us that.
    Billy laughed. It was more like a snort, actually. “That was then. So darned many of ’em came here that the government decided to crack down on immigration.”
    “ I didn’t realize that.” Well, except for the Chinese, who, as I mentioned before, I had read about. My education regarding these matters seemed pitifully insufficient at the moment. I decided to visit the library and see what I could find out about the crackdown on immigration.
    “ But some of ’em manage to sneak in anyhow. Usually across our southern border with Mexico.”
    “ Hmm.” I took another bite of pork chop. Vi was such a good cook. No way in a million years could I ever even aspire to her degree of expertise of the cooking arts. I think you have to be born with the gift. Sort of like I was born with the spiritualism gift, if you know what I mean. “Mr. Kincaid tried to sneakout of the country the same way. Via Mexico, I mean.” Mr. Kincaid, Mrs. Kincaid’s ex-husband, was now languishing in prison, which was a good place for him. I’d always figured that Stacy got her unpleasant qualities from him rather than her mother, who was only flighty. Mr. Kincaid was mean and evil.
    Sam frowned at me. He never did appreciate my involvement with the Kincaids. Which just goes to show how much he knew. If it weren’t for Mrs. Kincaid, my family wouldn’t be half so well off.
    “ Do you suppose these women have a sponsor?” I asked.
    Sam shrugged. “My guess is that your friend Buckingham or his church are sponsoring the women in your class.”
    “ Oh. That makes sense.” And it sounded very much like something Johnny, who had a heart as big as the outdoors, would do. Flossie, too.
    And thus the conversation died.
    Ma and I washed up after supper, which we always did since Vi did all the cooking, and Billy, Sam and Pa set up the card table in the living room. They just loved playing gin rummy with each other. As Ma washed and I dried, I couldn’t help but think back to my first-ever attempt at teaching anything at all. “I can’t believe I’m teaching a cooking class.”
    Ma laughed a little. “I can’t, either. You’re no better cook than I am.”
    “ Well, at least you made a good raisin pie earlier in the year.”
    “ It almost killed me, too.” Ma laughed and I joined her.
    “ But I really do wonder what happened to that lady who disappeared.”
    Ma only shrugged.
    * * * * *
    The following morning we all walked