Read Online Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson - Free Book Online Page A

answered. “This is a time of greatest joy.”
    Later that afternoon Leslie gave Jess his present. It was a box of watercolors with twenty-four tubes of color and three brushes and a pad of heavy art paper.
    â€œLord,” he said. “Thank you.” He tried to think of a better way to say it, but he couldn’t. “Thank you,” he repeated.
    â€œIt’s not a great present like yours,” she said humbly, “but I hope you’ll like it.”
    He wanted to tell her how proud and good she made him feel, that the rest of Christmas didn’t matter because today had been so good, but the words he needed weren’t there. “Oh, yeah, yeah,” he said, and then got up on his knees and began to bark at Prince Terrien. The puppy raced around him in circles, yelping with delight.
    Leslie began to laugh. It egged Jess on. Everything the dog did, he imitated, flopping down at last with his tongue lolling out. Leslie was laughing so hard she had trouble getting the words out. “You—you’re crazy. How will we teach him to be a noble guardian? You’re turning him into a clown.”
    â€œR-r-r-oof,” wailed Prince Terrien, rolling his eyes skyward. Jess and Leslie both collapsed. They were in pain from the laughter.
    â€œMaybe,” said Leslie at last. “We’d better make him court jester.”
    â€œWhat about his name?”
    â€œOh, we’ll let him keep his name. Even a prince”—this in her most Terabithian voice—“even a prince may be a fool.”
    That night the glow of the afternoon stayed with him. Even his sisters’ squabbling about when presents were to be opened did not touch him. He helped May Belle wrap her wretched little gifts and even sang “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” with her and Joyce Ann. Then Joyce Ann cried because they had no fireplace and Santa wouldn’t be able to find the way, and suddenly he felt sorry for her going to Millsburg Plaza and seeing all those things and hoping that some guy in a red suit would give her all her dreams. May Belle at six was already too wise. She was just hoping for that stupid Barbie. He wasglad he’d splurged on it. Joyce Ann wouldn’t care that he only had a hair clip for her. She would blame Santa, not him, for being cheap.
    He put his arm awkwardly around Joyce Ann. “C’mon Joyce Ann. Don’t cry. Old Santa knows the way. He don’t need a chimney, does he, May Belle?” May Belle was watching him with her big, solemn eyes. Jess gave her a knowing wink over Joyce Ann’s head. It melted her.
    â€œNaw, Joyce Ann. He knows the way. He knows everything.” She squenched up her right cheek in a vain effort to return his wink. She was a good kid. He really liked old May Belle.
    The next morning he helped her dress and undress her Barbie at least thirty times. Slithering the skinny dress over the doll’s head and arms and snapping the tiny fasteners was more than her chubby six-year-old fingers could manage.
    He had received a racing-car set, which he tried to run to please his father. It wasn’t one of these big sets that they advertised on TV, but it was electric, and he knew his dad had put more money into it than he should have. But the silly cars kept fallingoff at the curves until his father was cursing at them with impatience. Jess wanted it to be OK. He wanted so much for his dad to be proud of his present, the way he, Jess, had been proud of the puppy.
    â€œIt’s really great. Really. I just ain’t got the hang of it yet.” His face was red, and he kept shoving his hair back out of his eyes as he leaned over the plastic figure-eight track.
    â€œCheap junk.” His father kicked at the floor dangerously near the track. “Don’t get nothing for your money these days.”
    Joyce Ann was lying on her bed screaming because she had yanked the string out of her talking doll and it was no