Read Online Ask Anybody by Constance C. Greene - Free Book Online Page A

father?” Sidney asked, after some thought.
    My father said of course he did. “I just wondered,” Sidney said.
    â€œYou want me to fix supper?” I asked.
    â€œNo,” my father said.”I can handle it. But thanks anyway.” My specialty is spaghetti with clam sauce. We’ve had it quite a lot since my mother went away. Last time I added some hot pepper flakes to jazz it up. Those little flakes don’t look like much, but do they ever pack a wallop! Dad and the boys choked and coughed and carried on. I finished all mine. It brought tears to-my eyes, but I wasn’t going to admit defeat
    Tad tugged at my sleeve. “I’ve got something to show you,” he said.
    â€œIs it a secret or can you show it to me here?”
    My father was checking the refrigerator, and Sidney was off in his room, humming loudly, opening and closing drawers. We were alone. Tad opened his mouth. “See. Another one.” He waggled his front tooth with his tongue.
    â€œCan I feel?” I said. He nodded.
    â€œIt’s hardly loose at all. You won’t be losing that one for a while,” I reassured him. “Probably not until after Mama gets home.”
    â€œYou think so?” Tad said anxiously. “If it comes out and I put it under my pillow, somebody might take it.” Tad gave me a dark look. “This time if he lays a finger on it, he’s gonna get it. Pow!” The flow of words stopped, but from the fierce glint in his eye, I knew he meant what he said. Sidney had better not flush this one down the toilet
    â€œWe’ll figure out something, Tad,” I said, patting him. “Don’t worry.”
    Sidney showed up, huffing and puffing, dragging an old ski jacket with a zipper that didn’t work. “He can have this,” he said. “For when it gets cold.”
    â€œThis is going to be the best-dressed monkey in the whole State of Maine,” I told him.
    You’d think as long as Pamela comes to our house so often for supper she’d bring something. A deck of cards or a candy bar. Something. She has never once brought us anything. Some people grow on you. You don’t like them at first but you get to like them when you know them better. Pamela is just the opposite. I liked her all right at first, but she’s been going downhill steadily ever since. I decided to give her one last chance to win my heart. I opened the drawers we kept the knives and forks in and left them open. So she’d have no trouble finding them after she asked what she could do to help, and I said, “Set the table,” and then she couldn’t possibly come back with “Where do you keep the knives and forks?” because they’d be sitting there, staring out at her. With people like Pamela, you have to stay one step ahead all the time. Lazy people will do almost anything to get out of doing things. I hate lazies.
    At last I heard a car outside. It was Pamela. Right on time, probably suffering from hunger pains. Sidney had just discovered an old coloring book. Each page bore a big slash of color across the pictures he was supposed to color. Just one big slash.
    â€œLook at this,” he commanded, showing it to me. “I must’ve did this when I was just a little baby.” His voice was loaded with scorn. He tossed the coloring book into his shopping bag along with his discarded clothing intended for his monkey and staggered around the room, looking like a helper from the Salvation Army.
    â€œHi, ducks!” Pamela greeted us. “I brought you a pressy.” What do you know.
    The boys descended upon her, shouting, “What is it?” forgetting, for the moment, that she wasn’t their favorite person. She had brought us a half gallon of ice cream. The cheap kind, I’m sorry to say, the kind that has more air and ice in it than cream. I know that’s looking a gift horse in the mouth, but it’s true. She