Read Online All That Lives by Melissa Sanders-Self - Free Book Online

lesson I stole glances at handsome Josh from under my bonnet ties, hoping
     he did not see me looking. He was Professor Powell’s most exalted student and I had heard much was expected from his future.
     The Professor’s sonorous reading allowed my mind to soak up new thoughts, about the woolly mammoths in China, grammar and
     geography. The hours of the afternoon passed swiftly by. At the end of the day Professor Powell loaded our satchels with new
     Dilworth primers, then dismissed us, and my brothers and I emerged from the schoolhouse into a pink spring sunset.
    “So, Betsy, will you come again for lessons?” Thenny asked. She had to rush away, as her father expected her to lend a hand
     selling hard penny candy at the store after school. I looked and saw him smoking as usual on his porch. He waved his pipe,
     gesturing Thenny ought to hurry, as groups of the smaller children, freed from their lessons, were racing down the road. I
     regretted there had been no opportunity to talk privately with her.
    “Tomorrow, Thenny.” I waved goodbye and felt my throat grow tight as I knew I could not rely on tomorrow. I knew not what
     lay ahead of me in the dark evening. The days were lasting longer but already it was dusk. My brothers and I walked quickly
     over the bridge and through the hazel thicket, all absorbed in our own thoughts.
    “Let’s take the shortcut through the meadow,” Drewry said, leaving the road and looking over his shoulder to be certain we
     followed him down along the riverbank. I let the little boys go in the middle between us, and we moved single file. All at
     once, I felt a cold spot like the one by the stream when I was nine, and I looked about, feeling a bristle in the air. There
     was a tingling bright as pins around me and I had to stop. I called ahead to Drewry.
    “Look!”
    Across the field near the woods I saw flickering lights skimming over the tops of the grasses, flowing toward the river.
    “What’s that?” Joel backed up instinctively and took my hand in his.
    “Let’s see!” Drewry set off running, but swift as he was, the lights had gone before he neared them. The boys and I ran after
     him.
    “How fast those lights did shift!” Richard was intrigued.
    “Where did they go?” I disliked the prickling tension in the air.
    “There!” Richard spotted them again, drifting along the ground, moving in the distant direction of our house.
    “Could they be lightning bugs, clustered for some unknown reason?” Drewry squinted, looking across the meadow, and I thought
     he had a most pragmatic soul. The brilliant glossy shimmer sparking from the ground and rolling up the hill was clearly no
     mass of insects. It was not a pleasant feeling to see it moving toward our house with the day growing darker by the minute.
    “We must turn back and take the road,” I suggested, afraid to go forward.
    “No, Betsy, we must high our tails to home.” Drewry took off across the meadow without further discussion, and Richard and
     Joel and I ran after him, not knowing what else to do. The tall grass whipped my hands and face so I felt it was tiny needles
     dlespuncturing my skin and I clutched the strap of my satchel as it bumped against my hip. Please, God, keep us safe, I prayed,
     and with my eyes half closed I ran, trusting the Lord and Joel’s hand pulling me, and soon we reached our own hill and I summoned
     the energy to bolt the final stretch behind my brothers. We clattered across the porch with the last light and threw open
     the great cedar door.
    “Mother, Father, come quickly! There are lights in the fields and meadow!”
    “Strange lights, with tingling!” We shouted our information, crowding around Mother, who came at once into the hall, frowning
     at the commotion we caused.
    “What say you, children? Be calm!”
    Frightened, we struggled to catch our breath, talking all at once.
    “The lights were crawling to this house!” Joel tugged with two hands on Mother’s skirt,