Read Online June Bug by Chris Fabry - Free Book Online Page A

Budweiser. But it’s hard to move on after something like that.”
    “You a religious person?”
    “I try not to be religious. That sounds stuck-up. Like you just follow rules. I read somebody once who said religion is man’s way to God. We make a list to follow that makes us good people in our own eyes, but we don’t take into account what God wants.”
    “I read the Bible every now and then.”
    “Why?”
    “Guess I’m looking for guidance. You know, like there might be something in there for me.”
    “Guidance for what?”
    “Which way to go. What to do with her. That kind of stuff. I’ve never been a churchgoer. It’s hard on the road to do that type of thing.”
    “Still, it seems like you want to give her something spiritual.”
    “I bought her a Bible storybook a while back. We’d read it at bedtime. David and Goliath. Daniel and the lions. She devoured it. She read the whole thing in one night.”
    “That’s good. Shows she’s hungry.”
    “Part of my dilemma. I can tell there’re some things I can’t give her. Things a little girl deserves. But I can’t let her go either.”
    I’d never heard Dad talk about stuff like this. Was this what it was like to have a father and a mother? two people who cared about you?
    “What are you running from?” Sheila said.
    “Excuse me?” Dad said, almost choking on whatever it was he was drinking.
    The two of them laughed until Sheila said, “It just seems like you’d want to settle down. If you’re this anonymous guy driving around the country, you must be running from something.”
    “What’s the difference in us out on the road and you here in this big old house by yourself?”
    “Maybe everybody is running from something inside. It’s just a little more obvious for you.”
    “You’re probably right,” Dad said. “Only it gets really hard to run anywhere when your engine part is sitting on a shelf in Michigan.”
    “Sleep here in the house,” Sheila said all of a sudden. “No strings. The downstairs is all yours. You can close the door down there.”
    “I can’t do that.”
    “Warm sheets. A soft bed. I’ll keep Walter up here with me so he won’t bother you.”
    “It’s not that. I can’t become more indebted to you than I already am. Makes me feel guilty sponging off you.”
    “Sponge away, John. I don’t mind. You two are the only light that’s been in this house for ages. You’d be doing me a favor.”
    “I appreciate it. I really do. But I can’t.”
    “At least let her sleep in a real bed. The upstairs guest room has lots of frills and a canopy over it. It’ll be like sleeping in a castle for her.”
    “What’s not real about the bed she’s got?”
    “You know what I mean. Stay out in that motor home all you want, but don’t deprive her. While you’re here, I’ll teach her a few things. Bake a cake or roll out some pizza dough. Take her to a movie and let her get sick on popcorn and candy. And buy her some nice clothes instead of those old tomboy ones she has.”
    “I never had a sister,” Dad said, and there was an edge to his voice like he was hurt.
    “There’s no reason you would know any of this. That’s my point. She’s not going to get what she needs unless you let go a little. Let me help her. Let me help both of you.”
    5
     
    Mae Edwards stood at the edge of the Dogwood reservoir in the shade, where the dew of the misty morning still left wet stains on her shoes. Clouds circled overhead, threatening rain. A swirl of lights illuminated trees and shrubs with an eerie glow as they waited for the sun to rise higher. The ascent of confused lightning bugs from the damp earth gave her little comfort, though that scene at evening had always brought with it a measure of familiarity and peace. As long as she could watch the fireflies rise, there was equilibrium with the world, a rightness to an earth gone mad in a hurry. People let old women die in hospital emergency rooms without moving a finger. Men