Read Online Colt by Nancy Springer - Free Book Online Page B

this for you every day, you’d give me some of your collections money.”
    Rather than being disappointed in him, she looked happier than ever. She jumped up, did a small dance, then stuck out her hand at him. “Give me five, partner! Every day? I’m in heaven!” She slapped hands with him, grabbed the bag he had ready for her, and skylarked off to do part of her route.
    Colt felt kind of good for almost the first time since “No Horseback Riding.”
    A week later Lauri gave him his share of her pay. “What are you going to do with your wealth, moneybags?” she teased.
    â€œChristmas is coming,” Colt told her. “Hey. What do you think I ought to get your dad?”
    â€œGee, I dunno. I haven’t thought much about Christmas yet.”
    But Brad must have been thinking about it. Or rather, Brad seemed to have an uncanny ability to know what Colt was thinking. That Saturday, while Colt was watching cartoons, Brad wandered into the living room. “Colt,” he proposed, “how’s about I give you a few dollars every week for doing some things around the house?”
    Colt tore his attention away from the TV and blinked at Brad. He had always considered the house his mother’s responsibility, because she seemed to think it was. “I am such a mess,” she would declare, as if the clutter surrounding her was all her fault. But Brad seemed to think otherwise.
    â€œThing is,” he was saying, “we should all lend a hand. But Rosie and Lauri just aren’t home as much as you are, and neither am I. And your mom is going to be working overtime now that Christmas is coming. If we’re going to get this place cleaned up for the holidays, you’re the one who’s going to have to do a lot of it. And it seems to me that if you’re going to do more than the rest of us, I should pay you.”
    â€œSure,” said Colt. “Okay.” Though in fact he was not sure how much he could do around the house. He had never tried.
    It turned out he could do plenty. A kid on a scooter board, he discovered that weekend, can sweep and wash a kitchen floor with a lot less back strain than a standing-up adult. A kid in leg braces can push a vacuum cleaner. A kid in a wheelchair can carry junk mail to the trash. Colt could clear the table, even set the table. About the only thing he couldn’t do was climb on a stepladder to wash windows.
    By the time Christmas came, Colt was smiling again. Sometimes.
    He hadn’t seen much of his mother and Brad for most of December. They were working hard, and (he sensed) busy with their own secrets. But of course they had taken him shopping, and he had had a wonderful time trundling all over the mall in his wheelchair, spending his wealth. He got Brad some really good fur-lined leather gloves, and Rosie a brand-name sweat suit (along with a rubber snake to surprise him when he opened the package), and Lauri special socks guaranteed to keep her feet warm no matter what sort of ridiculous weather she was delivering newspapers in. He got his mother a fuzzy bathrobe and a cuddly plush unicorn to sit on her pillow. Everybody liked the things he got them, and he liked all the things he got, including the rubber snake Rosie had put in his package.
    Christmas afternoon after dinner Brad came out of the kitchen carrying an apple and a carrot and said, “C’mon, Colt. C’mon, everybody. We’re going to wish Mrs. Reynolds and Liverwurst a Merry Christmas.”
    Colt looked at Brad, feeling the old ache in his heart. It had never been gone, not really. Maybe it never would be. Though Christmas or something seemed to have made it ease up quite a bit.
    â€œDon’t you think Liverwurst should have a Christmas treat?” Brad asked him.
    â€œYeah,” said Colt, “sure,” and he wobbled to his feet. No need to switch from braces and crutches to wheelchair, as he usually did when he would be