Simple Recipes Read Online Free PDF Page A

Tom drove right up on the sand and parked the car.
     We couldn’t see anything but the moon and the stars. Tom explained about the moon and gravity, how the tides were pulled in
     and out.
    He turned to look at us. “Why the glum faces?” he asked. “You’ll see. In the morning it will be beautiful.” I had moved into
     the back seat by then, and my sisters and I were huddled together. Tom smiled. “Oh, I see,” he said. “I can see what it’s
     going to be like. You girls are a team, right?
Triple Trouble.”
He laughed out loud.
    “Why don’t you just shut up?” Helen said.
    Irene stretched her arm out and touched him. “Not now. It’s too late for jokes.”
    Tom lowered his chin. He got out of the car by himself, a gust of wind tearing through the open door, and began unloading
     the trunk. There was a big orange tent with metal poles that Tom assembled in the dark. Irene shone a flashlight out the car
     window, the beam tracing circles across the trees and the sky.
    She spoke to the dashboard. “Don’t tell anyone your names. Not for a little while yet, okay? Not until we sort things out.”
    Tom built a fire, tramping off into the night and returning with an armload of wood. We fell asleep in the car and Irene woke
     us, half dragging and half carrying us inside and tucking us into sleeping bags. We slept side by side all in a row: me between
     Irene and Tom, then Helen and Joanne. Tom had left the fire burning. Helen spoke up in the darkness. “That’s a fire hazard.
     You better put it out.”
    “Enough,” Irene said.
    Tom turned over and faced the tent wall and all of us lay in silence.
    We hated them so much it hurt. Helen kept a journal and she wrote:
Irene is not our real mother. Our real mother is living with our real father and we’ve been kidnapped by these hooligans.
     When the time is right, my sisters and I will run away.
We walked in single file along the beach, Joanne rushing ahead, Helen staying back to wait for me.Together, we poked at sand dollars and starfish, combed the sand for unbroken shells. Helen said to me, “Do you understand
     what’s happening?”
    I nodded.
    “We’re moving. Do you know why?”
    “Yes.” I knew all too well.
    “Don’t worry,” Helen told me, shaking her head. “We’ll stick together. I’m going to take care of us.” In front of us, Joanne
     ran in circles then collapsed into an angry ball. We sat beside her, watching the tide move in.
    That first night on the beach, Tom shook his head at us, said, “What have you been up to all day? I was going to take you
     swimming.” He showed us how to crouch down on our hands and knees and blow the fire so smoke rose thick from the wood. After
     dinner, Irene washed our hair under the cold-water tap, her fingers rubbing circles. She told us to go and dry by the fire
     and we stumbled away. Tom poked at the embers with a tree branch.
    “How long will we stay here?” Helen asked.
    Tom shrugged. “Who knows?”
    “You shouldn’t have brought us, then.”
    Irene stood behind us with her hands on her hips. “No,” she said. “But it was either that or leave you altogether.” Tom looked
     at her and Irene looked away, embarrassed.
    Our mother slipped off her sandals and sat cross-legged on the ground beside us. She held out her arms for us but we just
     stood there, watching. She took hold of us and crowded us into her lap. We resisted at first but the smell of her seeped into
     our noses and her hair swung around and wrapped us in a dark cave. We held on to her too, our six hands grasping her wrists,
     her arms, anything we could reach. “It’s only temporary,” she said, kissing our hair. “Just to see. We’ll wait a few days
     and then go home.”
    Tom said, “Wait a second, Irene —”
    “They’re my kids,” she snapped. “They’re mine, okay? I just want to wait and see.”
    Tom leaned towards us and touched her face with his thumbs. Irene shook her head and held us tightly. I