Read Online Color the Sidewalk for Me by Brandilyn Collins - Free Book Online Page B

Shouldn’t people be judged by their own actions? And didn’t God tell us not to judge at all?
    We trudged in silence for another ten minutes, the path leading us toward a grove of trees. “My house isn’t too far from the other side,” Danny told Kevy. My brother was panting hard but at least his lungs were working. My hands ached from supporting him, and I knew Danny’s arms must be terribly tired after his hard swimming. Finally we reached the cool shade of the trees. When we emerged on the other side, Danny announced, “See, Kevin, there it is.”
    It was still a hundred feet away, but Kevy’s spirits picked up at the sight of the ramshackle white wood house. To its left rose an old red barn, paint peeling, separating the yard from a cornfield and pasture. In the barn’s shadow chickens clucked in a lean-to henhouse. As we approached Danny’s house, I could see that its long front porch was scattered with dozens of tools, a wound-up rope, battered shoes, a couple of sweat-stained hats, and three rusted, saggy-bottomed iron chairs, their cushions a faded red. The front door was open. We reached the porch steps, and through the screen door I could just make out a bare hallway and staircase, its banister scratched and worn. Exhaling my relief, I felt a rush of sympathy for Danny.
    â€œJust sit here for a second. I’ll get Mama.” Gently Danny pushed Kevy into a chair, his eyes drifting nervously through the door. I sank wearily next to my brother, unsure if my worry about seeing Danny’s daddy was for my sake or Danny’s. “Thank you so much,” I said, my eyes closing.
    Not a minute later Danny’s mama was hustling toward us, worry lines in her forehead, her brown hair falling astray from a bun as she wrapped her arms around Kevy. Her voice was soft as a cotton ball as she murmured his name, her face sun-weathered, cheeks gently rounded. Full of concern, her large eyes were green like Danny’s. Something within me twinged as I imagined Mama looking at me the way she fussed over my brother. Efficiently she helped him to a front bedroom and began to undress him. I followed, wondering where her husband was and jumping when Danny appeared, carrying a cup of hot chicken broth.
    â€œThank you, honey.” Mrs. Cander had fluffed three pillows for Kevy to lie against, his face pale against their dark blue cases. “Drink this, Kevin; it’ll warm you up.” She glanced at me. “You better call your mama. The phone’s in the kitchen.”
    I held her eyes for a moment, my insides stirring. I wanted to capture the scene as she turned back to Kevy, one roughened hand sliding gently under his neck, the other holding the dirt brown mug, a small chip showing white at its base. She was wearing a green-and-white checked, long nubby skirt with a plain blouse half untucked. “Come now, Kevin, take a drink,” she urged.
    If I’d had any doubts about my brother’s welfare, they spun away as I watched her nurse him. Quietly I slipped from the room.

    I As I reached for the phone on the yellowed counter, I was struck by what I was about to do. Perched in a metal chair with a green vinyl cushion gaping at the seam, Danny watched me pensively. He hadn’t changed from his still-damp jeans, although he’d obeyed his mama’s hurried whisper to “be proper and get a shirt on.”
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” he asked.
    I met his gaze, my hand on the receiver. How to answer him, when I was unsure of my own thoughts? It was . . . awkward, our two families about to mix like this. I was afraid of what Mama would say. Would she ask what Danny Cander had been doing with us at the river? Trekking through that daisy-laden field, I’d begun to question Bradleyville’s seeming prejudice. God was loving and forgiving, judging each person individually. At least that’s what I’d come to understand, from