The Darkest Child Read Online Free PDF

back.”
    “You must be crazy!” I said, astounded by his arrogance. “We are not about to stand out here in the cold waiting for you. We don’t know you, and don’t want to, and anyway, we’ve got to get on home.”
    “Where’s home?” he asked, stepping between me and Martha Jean, and reaching for the door.
    “None of your business.”
    Much to my surprise and dismay, he stopped, turned, and once again faced Martha Jean. He pointed to his watch, then put both hands up. “Wait!” he said, and entered the post office.
    I stared after him, then grabbed my sister’s hand and started for the street. Martha Jean freed herself from my grip. Her gaze was glued to the post office door. I blocked her view with my body. I raised my right hand with the palm turned down. I leaned forward, crossed my chest with both arms, and twisted my face into a frown. I made walking and running gestures. I mimicked the worst beating imaginable, but none of that swayed my sister.
    Suddenly, I was afraid. There was always talk in Pakersfield about voodoo, and I wondered if the stranger had worked some kind of spell on Martha Jean while I had been inside the post office. I knew nothing of spells, but it would have to be a strong one to make Martha Jean risk the wrath of our mother.
    Finally, in desperation, I shoved Martha Jean as hard as I could. Her shoulders rocked back, but her feet remained firmly planted. “Let’s go!” I yelled, my arms flailing in the air, trying to make her understand that I was not going to take a beating for her or anyone else.
    Martha Jean’s fingers snipped and circled the same air as she waved a number-two pencil in my face, too close to my eyes for comfort. We were like two stubborn, competitive conductors presiding over invisible orchestras.
    “Hey, what is all this?” The voodoo man came strolling back, shoving his arms into the sleeves of a black jacket, pulling a chain of keys from his pants’ pocket, and making it all look graceful. “It’s all your fault,” I blurted out. “What did you do to my sister?”
    “Nothing. I just asked y’all to wait, and I’m glad to see you did.”
    “Well, we’re certainly not waiting for you,” I said, trying to sound mature and in control, but even I could hear the whine in my voice.
    “Just thought you might want a ride,” he said. “It’s getting kinda cold out here, and I noticed your sister there ain’t got on no coat.”
    “What’s that to you?” I challenged.
    “What’s that to me?” the man asked. “Ain’t nothing much. And I can see it ain’t nothing to you. You got on that nice warm coat, but your sister there, she chilling and shaking like a leaf on a tree. Don’t guess you mind she be cold long as you nice and warm, huh?”
    I was silent for a moment, thinking how it had not bothered him that Martha Jean might be cold while she was standing out here waiting for him. I started to say as much, but changed my mind. “Where are you from, mister?” I asked.
    “Dalton.”
    “Georgia?”
    He nodded, swinging his keys around on one finger and watching me with a look of triumph on his face.
    “How old are you?” I asked.
    “You sho’ ask a lot of questions for somebody don’t wanna know me,” he said. “I’m twenty-two. How old are you? And is there anything else you need to know before your sister freezes to death?”
    “I’m thirteen, and it’s not cold enough to freeze,” I retorted, although it was.
    “Not for you. You got on a warm coat.” He took Martha Jean by her hand and led her toward an old, green Buick that was parked just a little way from the building.
    I followed, wondering how I had allowed him to make me feel guilty for something that was not my fault. He was right, though. Martha Jean had to be freezing, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it.
    “Hey, you ever heard of the Quinns?” I asked. “Everybody around here knows the Quinns.”
    Maybe I imagined it, but it seemed to me