The Best Bad Luck I Ever Had Read Online Free PDF

over a chair in front of the fire. “Dr. Griffith worried himself sick about you.” He brought me and Emma a blanket. “What kind of dang fools go out when there’s a storm coming?”
    “I didn’t see no signs of a storm,” I said.
    “No signs of a storm!” exclaimed Jim. “What do they teach you kids these days? Didn’t you notice the squirrels hiding and hear the birds singing their storm song?”
    “No,” I said.
    “Dang stupid,” said Jim. But he smiled as he shook his head.
    Jim’s cabin was nothing like I had imagined. Sure, there was a dirt floor, but it was swept neat as Mama’s. There was a bed built into one corner and covered with a bright-colored quilt. His tools were neatly hung on the walls. Every item had its place. A pot of coffee boiled over the open fireplace.
    There wasn’t no place for all of us to sleep, so Emma got the bed and I settled down with a blanket on the floor. Pa, Mr. Walker, Dr. Griffith and Jim Dang-It huddled around the fireplace, sipping coffee.
    “All this rain,” said Pa. “Ain’t doing my corn no good.”
    “More rain coming,” said Dr. Griffith.
    Mr. Walker nodded. “Rain all over the state, from what I hear.”
    They were all silent for a moment. Jim Dang-It seemed to be studying Mr. Walker. “You the new postmaster, right?” Jim asked finally.
    “Yes, I am,” said Mr. Walker.
    “Don’t get too much mail myself,” said Jim Dang-It. He blew on his coffee. “Anyone tell you ’bout that man in Selma?”
    “I did,” said Dr. Griffith.
    “Good,” said Jim. “’Cause it’d be a dang shame if . . .”
    “Jim.” Pa cut him off and gestured toward me and Emma.
    “Sorry, kids,” said Jim. “Know you’re trying to sleep.” He lowered his voice and continued talking. I listened real hard, but I couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. I was just ’bout ready to roll over and go to sleep, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
    “Dit?”
    I looked up. Emma had the quilt pulled up over her head and was peering out at me like a squirrel in its den.
    “What?” I asked.
    “This was the best fishing trip I’ve ever been on,” said Emma.
    “Ain’t it the only fishing trip you’ve ever been on?”
    “Well, yes,” Emma admitted.
    “And we lost all the fish,” I grumbled.
    “But didn’t we have fun catching them?”
    “No,” I lied.
    “Oh, come on, Dit.” Emma laughed. “You were having a nice time before those snakes showed up.”
    “I was not!”
    “You two still awake?” Mr. Walker interrupted. “Go to sleep.”
    I finally closed my eyes and the next thing I knew, the sun was up and Pa was pouring me a cup of coffee.
     
     
    We had to drag the tree out of the road and dig out Dr. Griffith’s car before we could go home. I was covered in mud by the time we were all done. As I handed my shovel back to Jim Dang-It, he turned to my pa and said, “Strong boy you got there.”
    Pa nodded. “Yup.”
    Guess it wasn’t such a bad trip after all.

8

    MAMA’S RULE
     
     
     
    DIDN’T SEE MUCH OF EMMA FOR A WHILE after that. She’d been okay on the fishing trip, and maybe we’d even had a little fun, but I still didn’t want to be her friend. What’d we have in common? I loved the outdoors; she liked to sit on the porch all day. But my mama had a rule—we didn’t have to like anyone, but we had to be nice to everyone. That’s exactly the kind of rule grown-ups make up, ain’t it?
    There was one place in town where everyone followed Mama’s rule—on the baseball field. Course it wasn’t a real field, just a vacant lot, but we used old rags to mark the bases and even piled up some dirt to make a pitcher’s mound. Everyone played, and I mean everyone: boys, girls, black, white, green or orange, we all took our turn at bat.
    One day in the beginning of August, it was so hot the sweat dripped into my ears. We were picking teams when I noticed Emma lurking on the edge of the field. She had a book in one hand but wasn’t reading.