The Water and the Wild Read Online Free PDF Page A

his mouth and did not look nearly as concerned as he had sounded.
    â€œCould I have a glass of water?” Lottie asked.
    Scraggly Man blinked blankly at her before revealing a crooked row of browned teeth. He snorted and jabbed a girl with dreadlocks standing next to him.
    â€œDid you hear that, Molls? This little lost mouse has taken a wrong turn. Thinks we might be giving away free water at this high-class establishment.”
    Lottie blushed furiously. The girl turned around. It was Mollie Browne, who looked just as shocked to see Lottie as Lottie was to discover that Mollie now wore dreadlocks.
    â€œShoo,” Scraggly Man barked at Lottie. “You’re too young to be in here.”
    â€œFor the love of Hendrix,” Mollie huffed, tossing the bartender the glass she had been drying and swinging her legs over the counter. “Can’t you tell she’s dog sick?”
    Mollie rested a firm hand on Lottie’s shoulder and stooped to look into her eyes.
    â€œWhat’re you doing here, Lottie?” she said. “Does Mrs. Yates know where you are?”
    â€œI fell off my bike,” explained Lottie, “and I’m feeling sick. I didn’t think I could make it back to Thirsby Square without some water. Could I just have a glassful? I promise I won’t be any trouble.”
    Mollie bit down on her pierced lip, giving it some thought. “We’ve got an employee break room in the back. Let’s get you back there, yeah?”
    Lottie hadn’t expected for Mollie to grab her, let alone swing her up onto her shoulders and barrel right past the man who smelled of sauerkraut.
    â€œOut of the way, fellows!” she shouted, shimmying past burly baseball fans and shoving through a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY . The door swung shut, and the grizzled shouts of the Flying Squirrel disappeared into the dim dank of the break room.
    â€œA bike accident, huh?” Mollie said, setting Lottie back on her feet. “Well, you look all right, just a little shaken up. Sure you’re just thirsty? I can find a first-aid kit, if you need one.”
    â€œI’m fine,” Lottie said, trying to smile. “Scrapes don’t bother me much.”
    Mollie grinned tiredly. “Yeah, I remember that about you, Lottie Fiske. That’s what you said when you fell out of that apple tree.”
    â€œThanks for helping me.”
    Mollie waved Lottie off. “I would stay, but I’m walking a thin wire with the boss as it is. If he found out I let in a kid like you, I’d lose my job.”
    She pointed out a couple of cabinets with towels and glasses and then disappeared in another swoosh of the break room’s swinging door. The room was small and poorly lit, but it had what Lottie needed. Lottie rinsed out a dusty glass under the sputtering tap water and finally raised a glassful to her lips. She chugged the water greedily, and another glassful after it. Then she began to wash off her numb, muddy arms.
    She gasped at the sight of what was on the inside of her left arm. The handprint was still there. Unlike a bruise, the mark was not an uneven patch of brown, blue, or purple—just a thick black that ran against her skin in the perfect outline of a palm and five fingers. Though
no,
there weren’t five fingers after all. Where the imprint of a pinky had been before, there was now only the slightest sliver of black.
    As Lottie stared dumbly at the mark, she heard a commotion from outside, in the bar. She jerked off the faucet, the handprint momentarily forgotten, and peered through the slatted window of the break room door. There were shouts of anger and surprise as the crowd parted for a sight that Lottie could barely make out. It looked like one figure supporting another, and those two figures were making their way past the rowdy crowd straight toward—the break room door.
    Getting discovered meant getting Mollie Browne into trouble, and that was no way to