Read Online Chasing Lilacs by Carla Stewart - Free Book Online

stabbed a knife into my brownies, cutting them into squares, and said, “Mercy, Alice. You have to admit, your Studebaker
     had seen better days.”
    I hurried off and ran straight into Cly.
    “Hey, Sam, where you been all day? You missed the basketball shoot-out.”
    “Sorry. I had to make brownies.”
    “You okay?”
    “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
    “Beats me. You want to go shoot some baskets now?”
    Before I could answer, someone rang a cowbell announcing the food was ready. Tuwana and PJ ran up, Tuwana pulling on Cly’s
     arm and dragging him into the food line. We all piled our plates with fried chicken, potato salad, and pickled okra. Cly made
     a face like he’d sucked a lemon when he tried the okra.
    After eating and playing games, like gunnysack races and the egg-on-a-spoon relay, everyone brought out their fireworks and
     grown-ups supervised their kids, letting them shoot off Roman candles, Black Cats, and cardboard cones that fizzed into fountains.
     When I closed my eyes, the glare of the sparklers danced like shooting stars behind my eyelids.
    “Anybody want to ride in the Edsel?” Tuwana tugged on Cly’s arm, but he told her to go ahead. She gave him a frowny face.
    When I ran to ask Daddy if I could go, I heard Doobie holler, “Dibs on the window.”
    Daddy told me to have fun, that he was heading home, so I ran back to the Edsel.
    “Sam, over here.” Cly pulled me into the backseat square on his lap.
    “Everybody in?” Mr. Johnson gunned the engine.
    Tuwana scowled at me from the front, squashed between Davie Summers and Mitzi Greenwood. “Do you wanna trade places? There’s
     more room for your long legs up here.”
    “It’s okay,” I said, not wanting to delay the ride.
    Tuwana crossed her arms and stared out the windshield.
    Mr. Johnson pushed a button, and we eased onto the road.
    “See this here bar above the radio?” Mr. Johnson pointed out the spot to watch. “Gives you the strongest signal available.”
    Tapping Mr. Johnson on the shoulder, Doobie said, “Let’s see what this baby’ll do.”
    Gravel spun from under the tires as the Edsel peeled out. On the open highway, Mr. Johnson floored it and said, “Keep your
     eyes on the speedometer.”
    Necks craned and bodies shifted trying to see the magical spot. A red glow showed up on the half-moon dial when the needle
     reached 70.
    “Speed warning light,” Mr. Johnson said. “Safety feature for any of you heavy-footed types.”
    “You gonna let us drive it?” Davie asked.
    “Yeah, when the moon turns to green cheese, I am.” He threw back his head and laughed. He slowed down, hung his head out the
     window looking for cars, then spun the Edsel around on the highway and headed back to the community hall.
    “Can you drop me off at my house?” I asked.
    “Right-o.”
    I thanked Tuwana’s dad for the ride and ducked out the door. Cly hopped out behind me. “I’ll walk home from here, Mr. Johnson.
     Bossin’ car, man.”
    “You live four streets over,” I said as the car pulled away.
    “Yeah… well, I wanted to make sure you get home safely.”
    “What could be safer than Graham Camp? Only thing mightget me is a fang-toothed coyote coming out of the canyon looking for a snack.”
    “For an ankle-biter, you’re pretty funny.”
    “I don’t get it.”
    “For a kid, you’re all right. That’s all.” Cly started up the sidewalk after me, hands jammed into his Levi’s pockets.
    The air suddenly felt thicker, the sky blacker. The sidewalk stretched out in front of me a mile long, and my breathing had
     turned weird, sort of shallow and fluttery. Why was Cly walking with me? Tuwana would have a conniption.
    I wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts, then clenched them into fists. Puffing out my cheeks, I let out a slow breath. Cly walked
     close enough I could feel his shirt brushing my arm.
    “A kid? So that’s what you think?” I opened my mouth, and that’s what came out.
    Just a few more steps to