Shoeshine Girl Read Online Free PDF Page B

read. She ran up the street and bought a paper. She put it on one of the chairs in the stand.
    Back in a corner she found Al’s broom, and she swept the sidewalk in front of the stand. She didn’t expect much business so early in the morning. People were on their way to work. They didn’t have time to stop.
    But this morning they kept looking at her as they went by. Some of them smiled. Some of them spoke to her.
    She heard someone say, “There’s the girl!”
    A customer came. He was the man from the pet store up the street. He said, “That was a nice story about you.”
    â€œWhat was a nice story?” she asked.

    â€œHaven’t you seen it? It’s right here.” He showed her the paper. There on the front page she saw the words:
    SHOESHINE GIRL
    KEEPS STAND OPEN
    There was a story about her and Al. It told how Al was struck by a car—how ten-year-old Sarah Ida Becker was keeping the stand open while Al was in the hospital.
    â€œIs that why people are looking at me?” she asked.
    â€œIt probably is,” said the man.
    When she finished with his shoes, he gave her a five-dollar bill. “It’s for Al,” he told her. “He can use it.”
    Most of the morning she was busy. Almost every customer asked about Al and left money for him.
    At noon she heard someone say, “Hello, Sarah Ida.” When she looked up, Rossi Wigginhorn was there.
    Rossi was smiling. “Your aunt was afraid you’d get hungry,” she said. “She sent you this.”
    She held out a paper bag. Sarah Ida looked into it. There was a sandwich. There was a carton of milk with a straw. There was an apple.
    â€œI don’t see how I can eat this,” said Sarah Ida.
    â€œWhy not?” asked Rossi.
    â€œLook.” Sarah Ida held out her hands with shoe polish on them.
    â€œYou can drink the milk with the straw,” said Rossi, “and I can feed you the rest.”
    She was laughing. Sarah Ida laughed a little, too. “I know what,” she said. “I’ll go to the filling station and wash my hands. Can you stay here a minute? If any customers come, tell them I’ll be right back.”
    She washed her hands at the station. When she came back, a customer was waiting.
    â€œGo ahead. Have your lunch,” the man said. “I’ve got time.”
    She had her lunch.
    Rossi was saying, “I read about you in the paper. Did you know you’re famous?”
    â€œNo,” said Sarah Ida.
    â€œWell, you are. Everybody thinks it’s wonderful the way you’re running the stand all by yourself. I wish I could help.”
    Sarah Ida looked at Rossi’s pink and white dress. “You’d get awfully dirty.”
    â€œI don’t care,” said Rossi.
    â€œYour mother would care,” said Sarah Ida. “And you’ve helped already. You brought my lunch.”
    â€œShall I bring it tomorrow?”
    â€œNo. I’ll bring something from home,” said Sarah Ida. “Thanks, anyway.”
    By the time Rossi left, there was a customer in every chair. Sarah Ida was busy all afternoon. At the end of the day, her arms ached and there was a crick in her neck, but her apron pockets were stuffed with money. She took it out and put it into the pockets of her jeans.
    She locked the stand and started down to Al’s. She saw a boy walking behind her, half a block away. She had a feeling he was following her, but when she looked again, he was gone.
    She crossed the railroad tracks, and she saw the boy again. This time he was ahead of her. She wondered how he had got there so fast. He must have run down a side street.
    He seemed to be waiting for her. Now she knew him. It was Kicker.
    She came up to him. The sidewalk was narrow, and he was in the middle of it. She stopped.
    â€œWhat do you think you’re doing here?” he asked.
    â€œI’m going to Al’s,” she said.
    â€œAl’s not home.