Jumping the Scratch Read Online Free PDF Page B

turban who claimed he could hypnotize people and make them bark like dogs.”
    â€œGrandpa Will let him do that to him?” I asked.
    â€œHe volunteered,” she said.
    My grandpa Will was a very serious man. He wore long-sleeved shirts buttoned all the way up to the top, even in the summer. He never smiled, and he always shook my hand instead of hugging me hello, even when I was really little.
    â€œDid Grandpa Will bark?” I asked incredulously.
    Sapphy grinned and nodded.
    â€œReally?”
    â€œHe howled like a hound dog in front of everybody. I’ll never forget it.”
    â€œThen what happened?”
    â€œThe man in the turban snapped his fingers, my father woke up, and he didn’t remember a thing that had happened,” Sapphy said.
    â€œHe didn’t remember?”
    â€œNot a blessed thing.”
    â€œWhy not?” I asked, and now I was hanging on her every word like dew on a blade of grass.
    â€œI don’t know. I guess he must have said something to make Dad forget.”
    â€œWhat did he say?” I asked.
    Sapphy shrugged.
    â€œI don’t remember, or maybe I was too far away to hear it, but whatever it was, it sure worked. I’m telling you he howled , and afterward he swore up and down that he couldn’t remember a thing about it.”
    Underneath, along the bottom of the blue flyer, the paper had been carefully cut into a fringe of even half-inch strips. On each strip was a phonenumber neatly printed sideways. My hands were shaking as I reached up and tore off one of the strips.
    â€œCome on, Sapphy,” I said. “It’s time to go home.”

7
    MY MOTHER, DRESSED IN HER WORK CLOTHES, HER hair dry and pulled back in a ponytail, was squatting in front of the open fridge, rummaging around on the bottom shelf when we walked in.
    â€œWhat happened to all my diet cola?” she asked. “You’re not drinking it, are you, Jamie? I’ve told you a million times, chemicals will stunt your growth.”
    I shook my head. “It’s not me, it’s Marge,” I told her. “But if you ask me, it doesn’t look like it’s stunting her growth any.”
    â€œDon’t be a wiseacre,” she said. “We’re lucky to have Marge. I don’t see anybody else stepping up to help out, do you? Certainly not your good-for-nothing—”
    She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t have to. We both knew she was talking about my dad. I looked at her face, at the way her mouth waspulled tight and thin, and I wondered if she remembered how she and my dad used to sit out on the porch together after dinner, talking and laughing and sometimes even kissing when they didn’t think I was watching. Normal as cornflakes.
    I slid my hand into my pocket and felt around for the little slip of paper. What had her name been? Madame Yerdu? Or was it Yerda? Oh, who cared what her name was? The only thing that mattered was if she knew the magic words. I knew nothing could ever undo what had happened, but maybe just maybe I would finally be able to forget. I felt antsy as I watched my mother digging around in the fridge. Hurry up and go , I thought. Hurry up and go .
    Finally she managed to find a lone can of diet cola hiding way in the back, pulled it out, and stuck it in her purse. She’d drink it on one of her breaks, to help keep her awake until her shift was over.
    â€œSapph, do you want any more macaroni before I soak the pot?” my mother said.
    â€œDid we eat already?” Sapphy asked.
    Mom sighed.
    â€œYes, Sapph. We just ate,” she said.
    â€œFunny, I don’t remember that,” Sapphy said.“I’m not hungry, though. Except maybe for some sherbert.”
    My mom scraped the last of the macaroni into a Tupperware bowl and stuck it in the fridge. Then she squirted dish detergent into the pot and set it to soak in the sink.
    â€œGive your aunt some sherbert while I get her