Read Online Discovering Emily by Jacqueline Pearce - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jacqueline Pearce
Tags: JUV000000
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retreated back to her lap, empty.
âYou pick your food up, Richard,â Mother said gently. She gave Emily a sympathetic look, and Emily sat on her hands, resolving to take her punishment more stoically for Motherâs sake â even if she did feel it was unjust.
After supper, it was time for the childrenâs weekly Saturday night bath. Dede dragged the big tub from the back porch into the middle of the kitchen and set pots of water boiling on the stove. When the tub was full, Lizzie shucked off her clothes and stepped into the steaming water. Dede helped to scrub Lizzieâs back while Alice and Emily waited for their turns. Because she was the dirtiest, Emily went last.
By the time Emily climbed into the tub, the water had already cooled down. Dede dumped a fresh pot of boiled water around Emilyâs knees, nearly scalding her. Then, Dede set to work on Emilyâs back with the soap and scrub brush.
âOuch!â Emily protested. She was sure Dede was scrubbing her skin much harder than she had Lizzieâs or Aliceâs.
âSit still, Emily,â Dede ordered. âRemember, cleanliness is next to Godliness.â
Emily clamped her teeth shut tight on the words that wanted to come out and worked at scrubbing the ink face off of her hand. She didnât want to give Dede any more opportunities to punish her tonight.
After the bath, Emily wrapped herself in a towel and ran up the stairs after her sisters. She put on a fresh nightgown and jumped into bed next to Alice. She pulled her knees up tight against her hungry stomach and wrapped her arms around them. She wished she had a puppy that would curl up next to her, warm and comforting. But Father had already told her he wouldnât allow a puppy. Puppies were hard to control. They made messes, had accidents on carpets, dug holes in flower gardens. Father kept his own dog, Carlow, chained up outside. But it would be so nice to have an animal of her own. A puppy would love her no matterwhat. A puppy wouldnât care if she got dirt under her fingernails or slid down banisters or sang too loudly or did things the way she wanted. Whatever that way was.
Emily wasnât sure what it was that she wanted to do or be. Alice wanted to grow up and be a mother. Lizzie wanted to be a missionary. It was easy for them. They were good at things. But Emily didnât seem to be good at anything â except, maybe, getting into trouble.
Emilyâs stomach growled. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. She felt as empty as her stomach.
Alice touched her shoulder, and Emily pretended to be asleep. Then she felt Aliceâs arm reach across her. Emily opened her eyes and saw that Alice was holding out something wrapped in a cloth napkin. The something smelled good.
âThanks!â Emily whispered as she pulled the little bundle under the covers with her and sank her teeth into the delicious thick bread and cold meat.
4
Sunday
âRise up! Rise up! Itâs Sunday, children,â Father called, stepping into the girlsâ bedroom.
Even if he hadnât said anything, Emily would have known it was Sunday by Fatherâs smell â Wrightâs coal tar soap and camphor. Every Sunday Father washed with his special soap and dressed in clean clothes stored in the big camphor-wood chest of drawers, which heâd brought with him on a sailing ship from England.
Father left the room, and Emily climbed reluctantly out of bed. Some things she liked about Sundays and some things she didnât.
âMilly,â Alice said, interrupting Emilyâs thoughts. She nodded meaningfully at the bed.
Emily took up her side of the bed covers and began straightening them. Once the bed was made Emily went to the wardrobe to take out her Sunday dress. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Alice lean over the bed to smooth out some wrinkles Emily had missed.
Emily pulled on her long black stockings, climbed into starched bloomers and
âYou pick your food up, Richard,â Mother said gently. She gave Emily a sympathetic look, and Emily sat on her hands, resolving to take her punishment more stoically for Motherâs sake â even if she did feel it was unjust.
After supper, it was time for the childrenâs weekly Saturday night bath. Dede dragged the big tub from the back porch into the middle of the kitchen and set pots of water boiling on the stove. When the tub was full, Lizzie shucked off her clothes and stepped into the steaming water. Dede helped to scrub Lizzieâs back while Alice and Emily waited for their turns. Because she was the dirtiest, Emily went last.
By the time Emily climbed into the tub, the water had already cooled down. Dede dumped a fresh pot of boiled water around Emilyâs knees, nearly scalding her. Then, Dede set to work on Emilyâs back with the soap and scrub brush.
âOuch!â Emily protested. She was sure Dede was scrubbing her skin much harder than she had Lizzieâs or Aliceâs.
âSit still, Emily,â Dede ordered. âRemember, cleanliness is next to Godliness.â
Emily clamped her teeth shut tight on the words that wanted to come out and worked at scrubbing the ink face off of her hand. She didnât want to give Dede any more opportunities to punish her tonight.
After the bath, Emily wrapped herself in a towel and ran up the stairs after her sisters. She put on a fresh nightgown and jumped into bed next to Alice. She pulled her knees up tight against her hungry stomach and wrapped her arms around them. She wished she had a puppy that would curl up next to her, warm and comforting. But Father had already told her he wouldnât allow a puppy. Puppies were hard to control. They made messes, had accidents on carpets, dug holes in flower gardens. Father kept his own dog, Carlow, chained up outside. But it would be so nice to have an animal of her own. A puppy would love her no matterwhat. A puppy wouldnât care if she got dirt under her fingernails or slid down banisters or sang too loudly or did things the way she wanted. Whatever that way was.
Emily wasnât sure what it was that she wanted to do or be. Alice wanted to grow up and be a mother. Lizzie wanted to be a missionary. It was easy for them. They were good at things. But Emily didnât seem to be good at anything â except, maybe, getting into trouble.
Emilyâs stomach growled. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. She felt as empty as her stomach.
Alice touched her shoulder, and Emily pretended to be asleep. Then she felt Aliceâs arm reach across her. Emily opened her eyes and saw that Alice was holding out something wrapped in a cloth napkin. The something smelled good.
âThanks!â Emily whispered as she pulled the little bundle under the covers with her and sank her teeth into the delicious thick bread and cold meat.
4
Sunday
âRise up! Rise up! Itâs Sunday, children,â Father called, stepping into the girlsâ bedroom.
Even if he hadnât said anything, Emily would have known it was Sunday by Fatherâs smell â Wrightâs coal tar soap and camphor. Every Sunday Father washed with his special soap and dressed in clean clothes stored in the big camphor-wood chest of drawers, which heâd brought with him on a sailing ship from England.
Father left the room, and Emily climbed reluctantly out of bed. Some things she liked about Sundays and some things she didnât.
âMilly,â Alice said, interrupting Emilyâs thoughts. She nodded meaningfully at the bed.
Emily took up her side of the bed covers and began straightening them. Once the bed was made Emily went to the wardrobe to take out her Sunday dress. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Alice lean over the bed to smooth out some wrinkles Emily had missed.
Emily pulled on her long black stockings, climbed into starched bloomers and
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