The Dark Secret of Weatherend Read Online Free PDF

day later that week Anthony was on his way home from the library when he decided that he would stop in at the garage on Second Avenue where his brother worked and pay him a little visit. Keith was eighteen, and he was in love with cars. He worked as a mechanic, and he was always covered with grease and surrounded by a litter of spare auto parts. When Anthony walked in, Keith was standing under a car that was up on a lift. He was wearing his dirty coveralls, and he was banging at something with a hammer. Glancing over at Anthony, he stopped, wiped his hands, and stepped forward with a friendly grin.
    "Hi, kid!" he said, waving. "So what brings you down to this joint? You lookin' for another spare-time job?"
    Anthony glanced away. He felt uncomfortable. His brother was a very matter-of-fact, hardheaded sort. Also he'd made it clear that he thought Anthony was gullible. How could he bring up what he wanted to talk about?
    "I... I just wondered how you were," said Anthony. Then, after an awkward pause, he rushed on. "It's... it's nice to have the weather back to normal, Isn't it? Those... those hailstorms and stuff were kinda hard to take, weren't they?"
    Keith stared at his brother curiously. The two of them had discussed the strange weather before. Like everyone else in Hoosac, they had chewed the topic over during lunchtime and dinnertime conversations. So why was Anthony bringing it up now?
    "Well, it's over with, anyway," said Keith with a bored shrug and a little half-grin. "So did you come all the way down here to ask me what I thought about the weather?"
    Anthony's mind was racing. He had to find some way to make this conversation seem sensible. "We... we were talkin' about it in school," he said, staring hard at a puddle of oil on the floor. "And one kid said that... that maybe somebody was usin' magic to make the hail and lightning happen. Whaddaya think of that?"
    Keith did a double take, and then he burst into loud laughter. "Somebody said that? Jeez! They must've had rocks in their head! I bet it was that Lothamar kid—you know, the one with the stuffed-up nose? His mom's a Holy Roller, and they believe all kinds of junk like that."
    Anthony could feel his ears getting hot. He forced himself to smile, and he even managed a little laugh. "Naw, it ... it wasn't him. It was somebody else. Well, I hafta go home and help Mom with somethin'. See ya 'round."
    And with that, Anthony turned abruptly and walked out of the garage, leaving his brother to stare after him with a puzzled frown on his face.
    On down the street Anthony stalked. He felt angry, frustrated, and humiliated. Why had he ever tried to shove his theories off onto his brother or his father? He ought to have known what the result would be. They were both real no-nonsense, down-to-earth types. They thought that anyone who believed in magic was crazy. Even though Anthony couldn't prove his theories, he knew he was right. He had to tell somebody, or he would burst. And then it hit him—of course! He could tell Miss Eells! She was his best friend, and the only person in all the world who really listened to him. He always went to her with his secrets. And she never laughed at his notions even when she disagreed with him.
    And so, every evening for a week, Anthony went off to work at the library, thinking, Tonight I'm gonna tell Miss Eells about my ideas. But each time he choked up, figuring, Naw, she'll laugh at me too. Finally, on a rainy Sunday evening, he decided that he could not keep silent any longer. After dinner he went up to his room, opened a drawer in his desk, and took out the mildewed book that was full of the mad ravings of old J. K. Borkman. And with the book under his arm and an umbrella held over his head, he set out for Miss Eells's house.
    As he came tramping up the long walk that led to Miss Eells's front door Anthony heard music, squawky and out-of-tune. It came drifting out through an open window—even in October Miss Eells was a fresh-air