Miracle's Boys Read Online Free PDF Page A

though.”
    â€œYeah, I do.”
    I twirled the remote around in my hands. “I think I told her she was oversleeping,” I said. “But she didn’t hear me. Her hair was hanging down over her face. I moved her hair away but I didn’t call nobody. I should’ve called somebody.”
    â€œYou did,” Ty’ree said.
    â€œBut that was later on. It was too late then.”
    â€œIt was too late when you found her, Laf.”
    I put the TV on mute and watched some people dance across the screen. They looked so happy dancing, like dancing was the best thing in the world.
    â€œI was wearing my Brooklyn shirt,” I whispered. “And jeans. Mama was wearing her yellow pajamas, the ones with toasters on them. Remember those?”
    Ty’ree nodded but didn’t say anything.
    â€œMe and Charlie had given her those pajamas for Christmas the year before. They’d been on sale, and me and Charlie couldn’t believe we had enough money to buy Mama pajamas. With toasters on them. She always always always burned the toast.”
    â€œShe thought we liked it that way.” Ty’ree looked down at his hands and smiled.
    â€œBut how come?”
    â€œ ‘Cause none of us ever had the heart to tell her we didn’t.”
    I swallowed and stared at the TV. “Because we loved her too much to hurt her feelings.”
    We didn’t say anything for a long time. It was starting to get dark out. When I looked over at Ty’ree, he was frowning down at the floor.
    He bent over and picked up a straw wrapper. “I told Charlie to sweep. You see him sweeping?”
    I shrugged. “He could have done it while I was at school or something.”
    â€œHe didn’t sweep,” Ty’ree said, his voice getting loud. “Look at this floor! Look at it.”
    It looked fine to me. “I’ll sweep it.”
    â€œNo, I’ll sweep it,” he said, and got up and went into the kitchen. “I have to do everything in this house. Everything.” I could hear him in there banging around. Then I heard him sniff and blow his nose. A few minutes later I could hear him making choking sounds. I went into my room then and closed the door, not wanting to hear Ty’ree crying, not wanting to hear anything. A long time ago he had given me his green shirt. I pulled it out of my drawer and spread it across my pillow, then put my face in it.
    â€œMama,” I whispered, “wake up.”

FIVE
    AFTER MAMA DIED, MY GREAT-AUNT CECILE came up from South Carolina saying she was going to take me and Ty‘ree back home to live with her. She’s a small woman with white hair, tiny silver glasses, and hands that shake whenever she eats or drinks something. The two things I noticed right off were how she smelled like the candy part of candy apples and how perfect her teeth were. Ty’ree said it would be two thousand miracles rolled into one if they were real.
    I had met Aunt Cecile only once, when I was real small and Mama had taken us all down south for our daddy’s uncle’s funeral. Aunt Cecile was our daddy’s aunt. I didn’t remember much about that time, but Aunt Cecile remembered me.
    â€œYou were just an ant of a thing,” she said, picking me up like I was still two instead of nine and squeezing me to her. “And look at you now, just as beautiful as I don’t know what.”
    I’d never been called beautiful by anybody, and after Aunt Cecile said that, I went into the bathroom and checked myself in the mirror. Ty‘ree always said I looked like our daddy. He was dark and curly-headed with brown eyes. My eyes are more black than brown, and my hair’s more kinky than curly. Ty’ree makes me keep it cut short, sort of a fade. And when it’s real short, you can see where it starts out as curls. I looked at myself in the mirror and tried to smile like Ty’ree, but one of my front teeth overlaps the other