Read Online A Handful of Time by Kit Pearson - Free Book Online Page B

pulsed on her chest chest like a second heart drowning out her own.
    A LONG TIME LATER she sat up abruptly, shaking off a dream about her parents. What was she doing on the verandah? For a few seconds she forgot she was still in the past. Then she heard again the whisper that had awakened her.
    â€œHurry up, Ruth!” Rodney was in the living room. As Patricia stood up sleepily Ruth tiptoed out of her room, pulling on a sweater. They brushed past her—Patricia shuddered because she didn’t feel anything—and collected fishing equipment and oars from the verandah. It was surprising to see the two of them going somewhere together after their arguing yesterday.
    The sun was barely up. Patricia checked the watch: five o’clock. She couldn’t remember ever being out this early in the morning. The air had a bite to it and the sun glinted off the poplar leaves. Birds competed in a deafening, joyful chorus. Patricia breathed in the crisp air thirstily and swung her arms to warm up, flicking aside the spider webs that stretched across the path. Everything was new; best of all was this new day with the family she was becoming so attached to.
    Down at the beach, Rodney overturned a small grey rowboat shaped like a nutshell. Patricia got into it gingerly and scrambled up to the bow. The rowboat felt much more stable than the canoe, but it didn’t come alive in the water in the same way; and it didn’t have a name.
    Ruth rowed energetically while Rodney fixed lures onto the fishing lines. Then they dropped the oars and began to cast.
    The sun was getting warmer. Patricia stopped shivering and stretched out her bare legs. For the first time, she noticed there was no power plant spoiling the horizon.
    â€œThanks for coming out,” Rodney told his sister gruffly. “We can catch more with two of us.”
    Ruth didn’t seem surprised, as Patricia was, at his friendly tone. So they weren’t always enemies. Patricia didn’t want to revise her opinion of Rodney, but he was different this morning. His face looked younger as he flung out his line again and again.
    â€œGot one!” he said eagerly. He reeled in quickly as Ruth held out a net. She scooped up a wriggling striped fish about six inches long.
    It was a perch. Patricia knew that, because Trevor had brought one in yesterday. He had insisted on Aunt Ginnie cooking it for breakfast, even though it made barely a mouthful. It had been his first fish of the summer.
    But now Ruth got a strike, then another, then Rodney caught three in a row. Soon the bucket at the bottom of the boat was half full of flopping silver shapes. Patricia watched the fish with interest and reached out to touch one. It felt cold and slimy but not nearly as horrible as she had expected.
    â€œHow was the marshmallow roast?” Ruth asked her brother.
    Rodney flushed as red as he had at the store. “It was boring. Those girls are stupid.”
    â€œDid Gordon like it?”
    â€œOh, him … they all think he’s so wonderful, just because he’s old enough to drive.”
    Patricia guessed what she knew Ruth was thinking— that Rodney had only been asked to the roast so that Gordon would come.
    â€œNever mind,” said Ruth. “They are dumb.”
    â€œI’ll play you a game of badminton after breakfast,” her brother offered.
    Ruth’s face closed. “No thanks—I told you I wasn’t playing anymore and I’m not.”
    She changed the subject as she pointed to shore. “Look! Indians on horses!” The three of them watched some distant figures gallop around the point and disappear.
    Ruth sighed. “I wish Mother would let me rent a horse from them.”
    â€œYou know you shouldn’t associate with the Indians. They’re lazy and dirty.”
    â€œThey’re not!” said Ruth indignantly. “You’re just copying what Father says. He’s not always right, you