Read Online Deadweather and Sunrise by Geoff Rodkey - Free Book Online Page B

shot and choosing a new name, I was starting to feel overwhelmed.
    I shut my eyes for a moment. That made me dizzy, so I opened them again.
    “‘Morning, Egg!’ ‘What’s Egg think about that?’ ‘Could you pass the salt please, Egg?’ Well? What do you think?”
    “It’s all right.”
    “Loads better than Egbert. All right, then! It’s settled. When the others come back, we’ll tell ’em that’s your name from now on.”
    “They won’t care.”
    She considered this for a moment. “No, I suppose not. You don’t get on much with them, do you?”
    “Not much.”
    “You know why? Because they’re horrid. And you’re not. Don’t you think?”
    “Maybe.” Hearing her say I wasn’t horrid set my stomach fluttering again.
    She dropped her voice a notch, taking the sparkle out of it. “That’s completely daft about your mum, you know. They’re absolutely wrong. And anyway, I think you’re lucky you don’t have a mother.”
    “What?”
    She looked over her shoulder at the big yellow mansion. “I’ve got one. And she’s beastly.”
    “She doesn’t look beastly.”
    “Of course, she’s quite beautiful. But the worst ones always are.”
    I was confused, and I must have looked it, because she made an exaggerated show of disbelief. “Don’t you know? Come now, Egg. All the books you’ve read, and you don’t know beautiful women are evil?”
    “They’re not always. You’re beautiful, and you’re not evil.”
    I hadn’t meant to say that—it just sort of fell out of my mouth before I could stop it. Millicent blushed, which until then I wouldn’t have thought was possible.
    “Are you courting me?”
    “No—I—sorry! I didn’t mean… well, I did, just not… I shouldn’t have said it.”
    I quickly turned away and gave my ball a whack. It struck hers hard, carrying it a good twenty feet off the wicket.
    “And now you’ve knocked me out of position! Of all the nerve!”
    “Sorry!”
    Panicky that I’d ruined everything, I rushed over and picked up her ball. As I ran back to return it to its original spot, she began to laugh.
    “That’s against the rules! You’re making a complete hash of things!”
    “I’m sorry! Here—” I handed her the ball. “Put it wherever you like. I don’t mind.”
    As she took the ball, she smiled at me.
    It wasn’t a big smile—no teeth, just the mouth turned up at the corners, with a little crinkle of warmth around her eyes.
    But it conquered me completely. As time went on, that smile became the thing that I lived for—the answer to every question, the solution to every problem, the image that during even the worst moments I could call up in my mind to remind me that this was what was worth the struggle and the pain.
    Even now, I can still see it as clearly as if she’s standing in front of me, eyes locked on mine, filling me with bliss.
    I stood drowning in that smile, so lost to the world that even after Millicent broke away with a look of alarm, it took a fewseconds for me to register the sound of voices shouting on the lower lawn.
    I followed her dumbly as she started off toward the voices, then pulled up short, her head tilting upward.
    The red balloon was floating through the sky toward us, rising and gathering speed as it went, the four tethers twisting in the breeze beneath it.
    Then it was past us, and I saw the dark outlines of heads poking out over the basket. They were calling to us, but I couldn’t hear the words.
    Then we were running after it, Millicent yelling as her father and Percy emerged from the veranda and joined the pursuit, running until we ran out of lawn and had to back off to keep it in view over the trees.
    I heard Percy curse with astonishment. Then I felt a strong hand on my shoulder. Roger Pembroke’s face was grave.
    “I’m sorry, son. There must have been an accident. We’ll fix it.”
    He squeezed my shoulder and gave me a confident nod, and whatever fear was rising beneath the fog of confusion in my head