Read Online Chasing Redbird by Sharon Creech - Free Book Online

that?”
    â€œNo, it’s a perfectly free service,” Mrs. Flint said.
    I tacked the notice to the board so that it was partially hidden by another one.
    â€œDo you want to know what we’re putting the notice up for?” Bonnie said to Mrs. Flint. “Zinny is very upset. She’s lost her dog.”
    I could have strangled her.
    â€œWhat a shame,” Mrs. Flint said.
    â€œIt’s a little beagle puppy and his name is Bingo—”
    â€œA beagle? My, my, everyone seems to be losing their beagles these days.”
    I grabbed Bonnie’s arm. “Bonnie, please —”
    â€œOkay, okay, okay! I’m coming. You don’t have to pinch me. I want to see the notice. Zinny! No one can see it there !” She removed it and replaced it front and center. “There—much better!”
    â€œâ€™Bye, now,” Mrs. Flint called. “I hope you find your puppy.”
    We were passing the school when Bill Butler drove by, honking his horn and waving at us. I turned back to see him pulling up in front of Mrs. Flint’s store. Please, please, please , I prayed, do not let him see that notice .
    â€œBonnie! I forgot something. You go ahead. I’ll catch up.” I tore back to the store and dashed to the notice board.
    Bill Butler turned from where he was standing at the counter with Mrs. Flint. “Hi there—which one are you—?”
    â€œZinny,” I mumbled, as I ripped the notice from the board.
    â€œAre you taking your notice down?” Mrs. Flint asked.
    â€œYes,” I said. “We found what we were looking for.”
    â€œAlready?” Mrs. Flint said. “Aren’t you the lucky one?
    And I understand you found your beagle, too, isn’t that right, Bill?”
    â€œâ€˜Too’?” he said.
    â€œThe Taylors lost a beagle, too, isn’t that right, Zinny?”
    I pretended I hadn’t heard her and headed for the door just as Bonnie entered, saying, “I almost forgot! Mom needs butter.”
    I slapped the notice back on the board as Bonnie went in search of butter. Please , I prayed, please do not let Mrs. Flint or Bill Butler say anything to Bonnie about the ‘newly found’ puppy. This one prayer, at least, was answered, for by the time Bonnie got to the counter, Mrs. Flint was busy telling Bill about her gall bladder. She interrupted herself only once, as Bonnie left. “’Bye there, Bonnie, and I’m real happy for you—”
    â€œMe, too,” Bill said.
    As soon as we were out the door, Bonnie said, “Why were they happy for me?”
    â€œMust have you confused with someone else.”
    â€œMaybe they found out I won the spelling contest,” Bonnie said.
    â€œProbably—”
    â€œHow do you think they found out? Who do you think told them?”
    I wasn’t listening after that. All I could think about the rest of the way home was that notice sitting there on the board. What if Mrs. Flint saw it—after she’d seen me take it down and after I’d told her we found the puppy? What if Bill Butler saw it? What if Jake saw it?
    I was too miserable to think, and so I went up to the trail. For eight hours, I furiously pulled weeds and scraped stones. I plunged through nettles and thorns, pawing at the ground like a crazed badger. Two rain showers passed over me, soaking me to the skin, but I kept on going.
    I found one clump of mushrooms and gobbled them down, hoping they were poisonous and that my punishment would be swift and violent. I’d probably feel dizzy, gag, throw up, tremble violently and fall dead right there on the path. My family would send out a search party. They’d find me there on my trail and they’d feel terrible. They’d wonder if I’d been murdered. They’d carry my pitiful body down the hill and clean me up and buy me a white dress and lay me in a quilted coffin surrounded by red zinnias. I hoped they