Mississippi Blues Read Online Free PDF

kitchen. The dishes were done, the floor swept clean. Mama’s
problem
— agoraphobia — kept her locked prisoner inside. With little to do, she kept the house immaculate. Summer sighed deeply. She longed for the old days when Mama laughed and played freely. At times, she even left the dinner dishes on the table and raced outside with her children to catch lightning bugs in canning jars or go down to the creek to fish for crawdads.
    Keeping her head turned away in case Mama could read her face, Summer filled a glass with water and unscrewed the cap on the medicine bottle.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Mama plucked at the sleeve of Summer’s wet shirt.
    â€œNothing.” She kept her gaze down. It wouldn’t do to frighten her. “Why do you think something’s the matter?”
    Mama peered over Summer’s shoulder into the dark window. “I thought I heard a car drive up a few minutes ago. It’s got me rattled.” With each word her voice raised a notch. “Who came here?”
    â€œNobody for you to worry about.” Reluctantly, she turned and faced her mother. The signs of an oncoming fit were apparent. Mama’s face tightened, her lips pinched, her eyes squinted tight. Fear had taken control. “Mama, please calm down. I stayed outside a little longer than I meant to is all.”
    The worry didn’t fade from her eyes, but her tone lowered. “I’m sorry. I just don’t like it when you’re out on a night like this.”
    â€œI know,” Summer murmured. When Mama got upset, the best thing to do was stay as calm as possible. “But nothing happened. See? I’m just a little damp.”
    She never lied to her mother, but in the space of two minutes she’d told three whoppers. She couldn’t continue this charade. “Mama, sit down, please.”
    â€œWhat is it?” She perched on the edge of a chair, wringing her hands.
    â€œJody Marvell came out here tonight.” Mama wasn’t going to take this well. There was no easy way around it either. Summer dragged in a deep breath. “He was with Trey Bouché.”
    Instantly, wounded disbelief clouded Mama’s eyes. Summer rushed on. “They came to tell us something. You need to hear it, too.”
    â€œNo.” She shook her head from side to side and clutched it with both hands. “You can’t mean it. Not a Bouché. You know what they have done to this family. To Jace. To me.”
    Summer knelt beside Mama, pulling her hands into her own. Then she pleaded on deaf ears. “Trey isn’t the Chief … ” They never, ever spoke of the past. Or of the people who changed their lives forever. All dead subjects. Speaking their names now was a sacrilege.
    Mama stumbled to her feet, knocked over her chair, and rushed out of the room with her hands over her ears, howling like a wounded animal.
    Summer ran after her and found Mama facedown across her bed, shoulders heaving.
    â€œNo, no, no.”
    Sinking down on the bed, Summer stroked her mama’s back with gentle strokes and murmured soft words of comfort.
    Finally, Mama rolled over. Her scarred face twisted grotesquely — her mouth an angry slash, eyes swollen and tear-stained, and hair splayed wildly about her head. She looked like she belonged in an asylum.
    No. Mama’s mind was sick, but she wasn’t crazy.
    Summer feared telling her the rest of it. That Jace escaped. If Mama caught even a glimmer of the truth — that Chief Samuel Bouché was once again going to arrest her son, her mind might permanently snap.
    Summer wasn’t so sure she might not have a breakdown herself.

Chapter Three
    Summer worried about Mama all night.
    If Jace showed up out of the blue, she’d likely flip out. But if he didn’t come back, and she got her hopes up for nothing, that could also destroy her. With her stomach in knots, Summer decided to tell Mama the truth.
    When she