Monday's Child Read Online Free PDF

don’t give a rat’s ass what you or anyone else thinks.” When she was really mad, the influence of the nuns of St. Mary’s gave way to the streets of Cleveland where she was raised.
    “Don’t take it so personally.”
    “I won’t, as long as you don’t take it personally that I think you’re a jerk.”
    “I think you’re overreacting.”
    “You’re entitled to your opinions, however idiotic they may be, but I’m also entitled to mine.” She moved past him towards the door. “And I intend to make mine known.”
     

Eight
     
    The bell rang at two forty-five, the same as it did every day.
    Miss Appleton had not returned to the classroom after Kevin’s accident so Mrs. Bastilla dismissed them. Instead of the usual rush for the door, her classmates made an orderly exit.
    Jill pretended to be looking for something in her desk, waiting until they’d all gone and the halls were empty again before getting up. She gathered her books and went to her cubbyhole to get her lunchbox.
    The apple she hadn’t eaten at noon was rolling around in the lunchbox and rather than take it home to be recycled for tomorrow’s lunch, she stopped at the wastebasket to throw it out. It thudded dully as it hit the bottom. She wrinkled her nose at the too-ripe smell.
    The upper grades didn’t let out until a quarter after three, and she looked in as she walked slowly past those rooms. The sixth grade class appeared to be taking a test, heads bent and writing furiously.
    Jill wondered what it would take to break their concentration. Would they stay in their seats if the room became unbearably hot . . . if the paint began to boil off the walls?
    “You’ll miss your bus.”
    She stopped and turned, hugging her books to her.
    Mr. Downs had come out of the nurse’s office and was striding down the hall towards her. Even at a distance she could see the spots of blood on his shirt, dried now to a rusty brown.
    “Are you okay, Jill?”
    She nodded, fingering the torn cover of her math workbook. “How is Kevin?”
    Mr. Downs smiled and she knew he was pleased that she’d asked. “He’ll be fine. The doctors will fix his arm as good as new.”
    She hadn’t thought about it being fixed. She lowered her head and walked on.
    “They’ll put a cast on it and you kids can sign your names. Then everybody will fuss over him and he won’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to.”
    “Oh.”
    Mr. Downs put his hand on her shoulder. “Of course, it must hurt pretty bad now.”
    She hoped so.
    “But I don’t want you to worry about that.” He cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her face so he could look in her eyes. “Just . . . be a good girl.”
    The bus driver hadn’t waited.
    It made no difference; she liked walking home. The house would be empty—her mother wasn’t off work till four—but she had a key to let herself in.
    Sometimes there would be cookies on a plate, covered with plastic wrap. Or chocolate pudding. Or frosty cold milk in a thermos.
    Probably not today, though. Her mother hadn’t been to the store since the weekend.
    She kicked at the gravel as she crossed the school parking lot. It clattered against the hubcaps of the teachers’ cars.
    Jill glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching, and noticed Miss Appleton talking with Mr. Barry near the entrance to the multi-purpose room. The principal stood shaking his head as her teacher gestured.
    They were too far away for their voices to carry, but she could tell that Miss Appleton was upset.
    Jill stepped between two of the cars, and circled slowly to the rear. From there she could see them but they wouldn’t be able to see her. Through several angles of glass they seemed even further away.
    She bent down and leaned forward, resting one hand on the trunk to keep her balance.
    Mr. Barry had thrust his hands in his pockets and was rocking back and forth on his heels. When her father did that, it meant he was mad.
    Miss Appleton reached and touched the