Wanted . . . Mud Blossom Read Online Free PDF

Blossom said. “And right now I’m succeeding. Wipe your mouth, Junior, you’ve got a milk mustache.”
    Junior blotted his mouth obediently on his arm.
    â€œWell, after breakfast I’m going to have to look for Mary,” Pap said. “We’re all the family she’s got.”
    â€œAfter breakfast I’m going to school. I have to,” Junior said. “But no matter what happens, I’m not going to be happy.”
    Vicki put her hands on her hips. She said, “Pap, surely you’re not going to walk all the way to Mary’s cave. That’s miles.”
    â€œI don’t think you ought to go either,” Vern said quickly. This was the first time he had spoken.
    â€œMom, don’t let him go.”
    â€œI got to. Walking’s good for me.”
    â€œNot that far.”
    â€œIt is far, Pap,” Vern said.
    Maggie pushed back her cereal bowl. “You know what Ralphie had the nerve to call me?”
    â€œWhat?” Junior asked.
    â€œAn ogrette.”
    â€œWhat is that, hon?” Vicki Blossom asked. “I never heard of such.”
    â€œMaybe he got it out of a fairy story,” Junior suggested.
    â€œIt’s probably a compliment.”
    â€œIt’s no compliment. He calls his mom an ogress.”
    Maggie threw her braids behind her back. “He also said I used people, which is not true. I never use people. I’m beginning to think I don’t like Ralphie anymore.”
    Pap shoved back his chair, stood up, adjusted his overall straps, and started for the door. Mud looked up in a questioning way.
    Pap didn’t call, but Mud came out from under the sink anyway. His ears were up, his tail high.
    He moved over to the coat hook and stood under it, looking up at the bag so that Pap would know it was still on his mind.
    â€œSorry, pal,” Pap said.
    Pap reached down with one hand and took Mud by his bandanna. Mud hated for anybody—even Pap—to do that.
    â€œIt’s the basement for you.”
    He began to pull Mud back across the kitchen.
    Mud, of course, resisted. There was only one thing in the part of the kitchen he was being pulled toward—the basement door.
    Mud stiffened his legs, bracing with all his might.
    As they passed the sink, Mud tried to get back under it, but Pap slid him past the sink, the stove.
    At the refrigerator, Mud tried a second tactic—he went limp and fell on his side. Pap continued to slide him easily on the worn linoleum.
    â€œI’m sorry, old pal, but you and Mary don’t get along. You can’t go with me this time.”
    Pap opened the basement door. Mud tried a desperate move—a sideways, twisting leap—but Pap was prepared. He turned Mud as if he were twirling a rope, and Mud found himself where he most didn’t want to be—on the top step of the basement stairs.
    Pap closed the door.
    Usually Mud could sense these things. He had a sixth sense when something bad was going to happen to him, and he was always right. It was a kind of dread that came just before baths and scoldings.
    Even before humans knew they were going to scold him or bathe him, Mud knew.
    If he had not been so intent on the bag and keeping Dump out of the kitchen, he would have known about the basement.
    Before Pap was out of the kitchen, Mud started to howl. Ahwooo-ooo-oooooo.
    â€œIf I didn’t know that was a dog, I’d think this was a horror movie,” Vicki Blossom said. “Which it practically is.”
    Junior got up. “I’m going to the bus stop.”
    â€œJunior, you’ve got half an hour.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Junior said apologetically, “I can’t wait.”
    At the door, he turned.
    â€œAnd, Pap, if you get to Mary’s cave and she’s there, and she’s all right, tell her I worried about her so much I could hardly enjoy my surprise.”
    â€œI’ll tell her,” Pap said.
    Vern got to his feet too.