Read Online Lost Boys by Orson Scott Card - Free Book Online Page A

from day to day, from hour to hour, what the right thing was.
    The doorbell rang.
    It was a thirtyish woman, slender as Jane Fonda, a bit shorter than DeAnne. She had three kids in tow, the oldest a boy about Robbie’s age, and somehow—perhaps because of the kids, perhaps because of her practical cover-everything clothing, perhaps just because of her confident, cheerful face with hardly a speck of makeup on it—DeAnne knew that this woman was a Mormon. Or, if she wasn’t, should be.
    â€œSister Fletcher?” said the woman.
    She was Mormon. “Yes,” said DeAnne.
    â€œI’m Jenny Cooper, spelled with a w as if it was cow -per, only it isn’t.”
    â€œLike the poet,” said DeAnne.
    Jenny grinned. “I knew it! I’ve lived here six years, and now when I’ve only got three-and-a-half months left before we move to Arizona, now somebody finally moves in who’s actually heard of William Cowper.”
    Wouldn’t you know it, thought DeAnne. I’m already starting to like her, and she’s moving away. “Come in, please. My kids are napping, but as long as we stay in the family room—”
    â€œYour kids nap? Let’s trade,” said Jenny as she strode in. She gave no sign of noticing or caring whether her kids followed her inside or not. “I know you’re busy moving in but I brought a razor knife and I fed and watered my herd before we came, so show me where the boxes are.”
    â€œI’m doing books today,” said DeAnne, leading her into the family room. “But you don’t really have to help.”
    â€œAlphabetical order?”
    â€œEventually,” said DeAnne. “But it’s enough if you sort of group them together. Jenny, how in the world did you know my name? We didn’t even go to church on Sunday.”
    â€œI noticed that,” said Jenny. “A few weeks ago the bishop says that he got a call from Brother Something-or-other from Vigor, Indiana, who was going to move into a house in the ward on the first weekend in March. I figure, they’ll need help moving in, so I waited for you to show up at Church, only you didn’t come. So, this is what I thought: If they were inactive, Brother Something wouldn’t have called. So either they didn’t actually move on schedule, or they’re the kind of proud, stubborn, self-willed, stuck-up people who wouldn’t dream of asking for help and so they skipped their first Sunday and plan to show up next week, with everything all unpacked and put away, and when people offer to help, they’ll say, Already done, thanks just the same.’”
    DeAnne laughed. “You got us pegged, all right.”
    â€œSo, I had the Sunday school hour—I don’t go to gospel doctrine class, the teacher and I don’t see eye to eye—and I ducked into the clerk’s office, looked up the Vigor Ward in the Church directory, and made a long distance call to your home ward. Talked to your ward clerk, and asked him if they had any ward members who had just moved to Steuben, North Carolina, and he said, Yes, of course , the Fletchers , and they were the most wonderful people, Sister Fletcher had been the education counselor in Relief Society and Brother Fletcher was the elders quorum president and conducted the choir, they had three kids and a fourth due in July, and they were great speakers, we ought to get them both to talk in sacrament meeting as often as possible—”
    â€œOh, that was Brother Hyde, he was just being sweet.” DeAnne could not believe that Brother Hyde had actually remembered when their baby was due, or that he had given that information to a stranger. But then, they were all in the Church, weren’t they? And that meant that they were “no more strangers, but fellow citizens of the saints,” or however it went in Paul’s epistle to—to some bunch of Greeks. Or Romans or Hebrews.
    â€œYes,