Promise Me A Rainbow Read Online Free PDF Page A

puddles. Sometimes she liked to do that—stomp the water out of the puddles—but she didn’t do it today. Joe was watching, and he was a builder. He and Uncle Michael were losing a lot of money because of the rain, and she didn’t want him to think she enjoyed it.
    She stood on the front porch at the door, pulling back the screen and waiting until Joe thought she was about to go inside and drove away. Then she waited a moment longer until his truck had gone around the corner. She stuck her hand into the pocket of her poncho. She had three dollars in nickels, dimes and quarters—milk money she’d saved from school—and a package of dry-roasted peanuts; plenty of money for the bus fare to the Mayfair and plenty to eat until she got back for dinner.
    She let the screen door close slowly. Charlie was probably doing something at his computer. There wasn’t much of a chance that he’d hear her even if she came in the front door with a marching band, but she didn’t want to risk it. She smiled a rare smile at the thought of leading a whole big band in red marching suits right into the living room—and Charlie not even looking up.
    She looked at her watch, an old white plastic digital one that Della didn’t wear anymore because the painted flowers on the band had nearly worn off. Fritz didn’t care about the flowers; she cared about the time—six o’clock. The bus came to the corner at six-fifteen, only she couldn’t wait at this corner. One of the neighbors might see her and ask what she was doing and did Della or Charlie or Joe know she was out here in the rain? They were sure to ask if they saw her, because she was a motherless child and whatever she did seemed to be everyone else’s business. It was her opinion that people naturally assumed that children with mothers had permission and children without mothers didn’t—and were up to something.
    She jumped off the porch into the wet grass, causing a splash of cold rainwater she felt on the backs of her legs and inside her running shoes. But she didn’t linger. She ran as fast as she could around the house and through the backyard, taking all the shortcuts she knew between the neighbors’ garbage cans and compost heaps to get to the next block ahead of the bus.
    The bus was coming when she rounded the corner, and she had no time to reflect upon the advisability of this venture. She had never gone anyplace without Della or Charlie or Joe knowing, but she didn’t hesitate. She got on and carefully dropped the correct change into the slot, smiling slightly at the driver, who clearly thought she was about to make his life miserable with a dollar bill. She sat in the back, knowing that the bus would stop at Market Street without her having to pull the cord. She would get on another bus then, one going in the direction of Mayfair. She was a little worried about knowing when to signal the driver to stop. She had to ride for six streets. She’d count five, and in the middle of the fifth she’d pull the cord. Simple. She hoped.
    The second bus was crowded with people, and she had a hard time getting to a window so she could count. She remained standing, letting a girl with a big stomach that meant she was going to get a baby sit down in her place. The girl was chewing bubble gum, and she blew a bubble, then popped it loudly. Fritz wished she had bubble gum instead of peanuts. She was hungry, and peanuts were a lot of trouble. She couldn’t count streets and eat them at the same time. She would have to pay attention to every mouthful to keep them from falling between her fingers, and it would be hard to do that and count, too.
    She squirmed to get down the aisle, trying to move around a fat boy carrying a big old-fashioned radio. He was very wide, as wide as the whole aisle almost, and he had on a red beret with buttons pinned all over it. She read the ones she could read: U-2 and Sting and ZZ Top. He was wearing earphones, and Fritz was close enough to feel the bass