Taking Care of Moses Read Online Free PDF

worry. And Randall knew that sometimes little clouds turn into big storms.

6
    â€œ ’C ause I got a piece of paper that says so, Iris,” Miss Frieda was saying to Randall’s mother. “ I’m the one here in Foley that takes in the children. Can’t just anybody up and keep a baby like that.”
    Her voice was loud and gravelly, booming down to Randall and Jaybird from the porch above them.
    The floorboards squeaked and groaned as the women rocked. Back and forth. Back and forth. One of them rocked faster than the others. Randall figured it was Miss Frieda. Her voice sounded like the voice of someone who was rocking fast.
    â€œYou’re right, Frieda,” Randall’s mother said. “But maybe there’s no harm in Charlotte tending to that child for a day or two.”
    â€œShe’s had that baby over a week now.”
    â€œThat’s right, Frieda,” Jaybird’s mother said. “She has had that baby for a week.”

    â€œ Over a week,” Miss Frieda said. “She ought to be made to do the right thing instead of whatever she dern well pleases.” The rocking chair was moving faster now. “She’s got no intention of doing what’s right,” she added.
    â€œPreacher Ron said they reported everything like they were supposed to,” Mrs. Mackey said.
    â€œIris,” Miss Frieda said, “pardon me if I stir up some muddy water here, but that preacher man’s got a way of making everything sound like a gift from heaven sent special delivery to him and that wife of his.”
    Randall sat still, waiting. He could picture his mama’s face: pinched up and twitching. All anybody had to do to get a rise out of her was to say something bad about Preacher Ron.
    â€œWell, Frieda,” Randall’s mother said, “you are caring for an awful lot of children right now. I can’t see why you’re making such a fuss about Charlotte keeping just one .”
    Back and forth the conversation went. Every so often, Mrs. Gilley said, “That’s right” or “Uh-huh!” Randall and Jaybird grinned at each other every time Miss Frieda said something nasty, like when she called Mrs. Jennings a high-and-mighty starched shirt. Then when she said Mrs. Jennings thought she could stick her head in a bucket of slop and come out smelling like a rose, they had to cover their heads with a beach towel to keep from laughing out loud.

    â€œLet’s go see if T.J. and them are shootin’ hoops,” Jaybird whispered to Randall under the towel.
    Randall shook his head. “Naw, it’s too hot.”
    Outside, the air was thick with heat, but under the porch, it was cool and damp. The scraggly marigolds along the edge of the porch were dried up and brown. From his dug-out seat in the dirt of the fort, Randall could see the steamy heat rising up off the street in waves. The asphalt basketball court behind the school would be even hotter. Besides, Randall wanted to stay and hear what else the women were going to say about Moses.
    Jaybird threw the beach towel off their heads and lay back in the dirt.
    â€œWho you think oughtta take care of Moses?” he whispered.
    â€œHis mama, I reckon.”
    â€œNaw, I mean if his mama is gone for good.”
    â€œShe’s not gone for good,” Randall said.
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œWhy would anybody just up and leave their baby like that? Think about it, Jaybird.”
    â€œShoot, Randall, sometimes you ain’t got a lick of sense,” Jaybird said. “Mamas leave babies all the time. Why do you think Miss Frieda has all them kids?”
    The rocking chairs stopped rocking, and the porch
steps creaked. Randall and Jaybird watched Miss Frieda’s ugly brown shoes go down the steps and up the sidewalk. The screen door above them slammed when Mrs. Gilley and Mrs. Mackey went inside.
    Randall and Jaybird started to crawl out from under the porch but