Read Online Drizzle by Kathleen Van Cleve - Free Book Online Page A

she releases me, I realize the rain has stopped. The Umbrella is still high up in the air.
    “It needs to go through its cycle again before it can close,” says Dad. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. “Oh, pumpkin.” He leans down and hugs me too.
    “I’m okay, Dad,” I lie, still trembling.
    Beatrice stands about three feet away from me. Tears stream down her dark cheeks. “Come here, little girl. Come here.” I move to her, allowing her strong arms to circle me. She used to call me “little girl” all the time. “Thank you, Polly. Thank you.” I can feel Beatrice shake as she hugs me; her words are whispered and her breath feels warm.
    “What happened?”
    Beatrice releases me a little, looking me straight in the eye. “Foolishness,” she says as she deliberately steps on the leaf of a plant. “Foolishness!” she repeats angrily. “Irresponsible. People could die!” She kicks a plant. “My Basford could have died!”
    It’s like the whole world blurs as I realize what she’s saying.
    The plants.
    They were clogging up the ride. On purpose.
    “Seriously,” Patricia interrupts my thoughts. “I would have never thought you had that in you.”
    Freddy puts his arm around my shoulder. “My little sister. Braveheart.”
    Aunt Edith and Mom and Dad and Freddy and Beatrice and Chico and Patricia and everyone are looking at me like I’ve sprouted wings and am going to fly. I cross my arms and look toward the Umbrella, which has finally come back to the ground. People are jumping off, wet mothers hugging their wet children, young boys shaking their hands in a wild kind of drying dance, teenagers wrapping their arms around their wet shirts, firemen walking around, smelling the flowers. It’s like the whole farm has breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
    Actually, the farm isn’t relieved. The people are relieved. The farm— my farm— wanted this to happen.
    “BASFORD!” Beatrice yells. He’s walking over to us, taking small steps, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Beatrice darts over to him as fast as her little legs can carry her, almost knocking him over. “I’m so glad, I’m so glad,” she says as she smothers him with another one of her hugs.
    “He must have been so frightened,” Mom murmurs. She puts her arm around my shoulder. “I can’t believe you did that.”
    “I can’t either,” I murmur.
    “That was crazy!” says Freddy, his eyes bright and proud. “You just stuck your hand in a motor! Are you sure you’re my scaredy cat sister?”
    Beatrice and Basford join us. Beatrice clings to Basford’s arm, as if letting him go would make him lift up like a helium balloon.
    “Dude, she saved your life,” Freddy tells him.
    “She did,” Patricia echoes, as if she can barely believe it.
    Basford flips his hair off of his face and then takes a step away from Beatrice. He’s not smiling. He doesn’t even look happy.
    Then he thrusts out his hand. I take it, and he shakes it up and down, awkwardly. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “Thank you very much.”
    “You’re welcome,” I say, equally quietly. We look at each other without smiling, like we’re the only two who understand how terrible it was.
    “What was it like up there?” Freddy asks. “I would have been freaking out.”
    Basford glances back at the Umbrella. He blinks, as if he’s looking at the sun even though he isn’t, and then swallows. “Everyone was afraid.”
    Beatrice jumps over and gives me another hug.“That was so darn brave of you, honey. So darn brave.”
    “She’s right.” Aunt Edith stares at me, her eyes shining. “You were fearless, Polly. Absolutely fearless.”
    I have to look away. I don’t feel like I was fearless. I was afraid too. Scratch that. I am afraid.
    The plants on the ground are bright and healthy-looking, as if they’re the most innocent things in the world. A picture of the green dragonfly mist flashes through my mind, making my stomach turn upside down. I