The Maloneys' Magical Weatherbox Read Online Free PDF

apprentice! You , sir, I take it are the Weatherman himself, one of the four caretakers of the world, honoring the ancient agreement between humanity and the Seasons, bringing order out of chaos and protecting us from their wrath?”
    He had then looked at me.
    â€œAnd you must be the junior Weatherman? Weatherman Junior? Weatherboy? I’m sorry, I don’t know what a Weatherman-in-training calls himself.”
    â€œNeil,” I said, dully.
    Then Mum came out to see what was going on. The Tourist turned to her with both hands spread.
    â€œAh! You must be Mrs. Weatherman!”
    Mum stopped, and glared.
    â€œExcuse me, Mr. Wharton, I don’t appreciate—” she began.
    â€œOh, I do beg your pardon—” the Tourist said.
    â€œJust a minute, Mr. Wharton, could you—” Dad put in. And then everybody started talking at once …
    â€œâ€¦ not a flippin’ Weatherboy,” I said.
    â€œâ€¦ deserve a little respect and if you could…”
    â€œâ€¦ meant no offense and spoke without thinking…”
    â€œâ€¦ would very much like to know how you came by the information…”
    â€œâ€¦ I mean everyone just assumed…”
    â€œâ€¦ can’t just come waltzing into our home and speak to us…”
    â€œâ€¦ getting off on the wrong foot here…”
    â€œâ€¦ not common knowledge, and your casual attitude…”
    â€œâ€¦ nobody asked me if I wanted…”
    â€œâ€¦ overfamiliar and frankly intrusive…”
    â€œâ€¦ if you could just give me a chance…”
    This went on and on and would have kept going on if Owen hadn’t run up holding a cat followed by Liz, looking as if she’d been dragged through a hedge backward. She was coated in dust and covered in cuts, and there were horrible rashes all over her legs. She said something about falling, a ditch and nettles, but she looked at me for a moment, then away, and I knew she must have had help in her falling.
    The Tourist, despite his size, somehow faded away into the background while Liz was put on the couch and Mum got cream and Dad went to make hot chocolate. Owen brought in his new cat and filled a bowl from a can of salmon. It ate noisily. Had Liz said something about it being a magic cat? I shook my head. Must be one of her silly games. Owen sat on the floor and stared up at her with his big, round, worried eyes until she let him climb up and snuggle in beside her.
    â€œNeil,” she said when Mum and Dad had left the room. “Don’t—”
    â€œWe can’t let him get away with it,” I said. “You’d do the same if he did that to me.”
    â€œYeah, but no, but listen! He said something about him and his mum wanting you to go up to the lake. Well, they want Dad, but they can’t make him go, so they said you’d do. So this is just to make you go up, you see? It’s a trap or something.”
    All the protective, big-brotherly blood that was normally neglected and unemployed—probably in a sad, sulky little pool way down in the tip of my big toe—had by now rushed in a suicidal charge straight to my head, but it wasn’t just that. The lake! I remembered the thing under the water. There was something under the lake. Something that had tried to make a snowstorm, and had probably made all the other crazy weather this year.
    â€œNo,” I told her. “It’s OK.”
    Half of me was raging at Hugh, half of me was remembering that strange voice from under the water. All of me was up and out the door before Liz could get another word in. I crossed the road, went into the woods, and climbed the hill until I reached the wall. Then I climbed the wall and crossed into enemy territory.
    On the shore of Loch Farny is our grandfather’s farm, where the Fitzgeralds have lived for twenty years since they stole it away, and where we don’t go. There’s bad