Little Sister Read Online Free PDF Page A

picked it up. “Damn,” she whispered, feeling at once irritable yet oddly relieved. She realized that she was in no hurry to talk to Francie. Rummaging in her large leather pouch purse, Beth found her phone book and looked up the number of the parsonage. From behind her dark glasses she could see that the lady in the fur-collared coat had stepped up to the counter to pay for a box of candy and that the clerk was reluctantly distracted from his narrow-eyed scrutiny of her to wait on his customer. The guitarist, however, continued to gaze at her unabashedly.
    Beth turned her back to them both and dialed the parsonage. Her aunt picked up the phone.
    “Aunt May,” said Beth, “I’m here.”
    “Oh, Beth,” said her aunt. “How are you, dear?”
    “I’m okay. I just got here. There was no answer at the house when I called. I’m wondering when the wake starts tonight.”
    “Well, dear,” said May, “it starts in about forty-five minutes. Your uncle James and I are on our way to go. We’re just about ready. Where are you? Are you at the Seven-Eleven?” May asked. “We’ll come get you.”
    “Never mind,” said Beth, knowing how long it took her uncle James to get organized. “Sullivan’s isn’t far from here. I’ll walk over and meet you there.”
    “But, dear, you’re tired. Let us come get you.”
    “No, really,” said Beth, thinking that she would rather walk than hang around this store and wait. “I’ll see you shortly. Yes. Bye.”
    Beth replaced the phone on the hook and put her address book back in her purse. She felt grubby and weary, and there was a headache starting to build at the base of her neck. She hesitated for a minute and then walked up to the counter. She picked out a pocket-size tin of aspirin from the display beside the cash register and asked the clerk for the price.
    The boy finished the page of the book he was reading and then turned to the next. Beth noted the title. Shoot-out in San Diego, with a slight curl to her lip. On the cover was a guy in a safari suit, holding a blazing gun. “Excuse me,” she said, rapping the tin on the counter.
    “Fifty cents. Like it says,” he told her, without looking up from his book.
    Beth put two quarters down on the counter and picked up the aspirin.
    “Do you have a water fountain here by any chance?” Beth asked.
    The boy finally looked up from his book. “Nope.”
    Beth stifled a sigh and walked over to where the soda was stocked. She picked up a bottle of warm club soda and brought it back to the counter.
    The counterman stared at her.
    “How much?” she asked.
    “Forty-five.”
    Beth tossed down the change and twisted the bottle top off with a snap of her wrist. She popped two aspirin in her mouth and swallowed them with the club soda. Then she started for the door. Beside the door was a large plastic garbage can with a swinging lid. Beth gave the lid a push and held the bottle over it.
    “Hey,” said the clerk, “don’t throw that in there full like that.”
    “I replaced the top,” said Beth.
    “That don’t matter,” he said.
    Beth felt her patience drain away. She dropped the garbage can lid and walked over to the counter. She set the bottle down on the counter with a bang. “There,” she said sweetly. “Why don’t you finish it?”
    The boy with the guitar started to smile, but he tried to cover the smile with his hand. The counterman glared at him. Suddenly the boy with the guitar said, “Uh-oh, here comes Temple.”
    The door to the store swung open, and a heavyset red-faced man, wearing a bow tie and a 7-Eleven jacket came striding in. “How we doin’ today?” he called out. “How’s business?”
    I’m surprised he has any business at all with this creep working here, Beth thought. Turning her back on both the boys at the counter, she adjusted her suitcase strap on her shoulder, muttered a chilly “Excuse me” to the store manager as she squeezed past him, and left the store.
    Time to face the music,