Read Online Man in the Moon by Dotti Enderle - Free Book Online

bushy and wild. A gentle smile crept across his face, which, under the circumstances, didn’t seem natural. Then he said, “Hey, pumpkin. You want a Popsicle?”
    At first I wasn’t sure what he meant. There were no Popsicles in the freezer. He stood up, and I heard his car keys jingling in his hand.
    “Okay!”
    It’d been a while since I’d sat in the front seat of Daddy’s car. The vinyl had a giant rip in it that curled up, and it scratched my leg. I tried to adjust the stuffing inside to cover it, but it wasn’t working. I finally ignored it, just happy to be going somewhere at last.
    Daddy backed out of the driveway, the Chevy’s tires crunching on the gravel. The old car sputtered for a minute; then, with a jolt, it picked up speed, and we sailed down the road. I stuck my head out the window to feel the wind on my face. It cooled my cheeks and whistled in my ears. The radio was set to the hillbilly station, but Daddy patted my knee and said, “You can change the channel if you want.”
    I slowly turned the knob, listening to broken voices and crackling static. I stopped when I heard Chubby Checker inviting me to do “The Twist.”
    Going to the 7-Eleven was like going to another town. It’s the closest store to our house, but it still took about twenty minutes to get there. I didn’t mind. After being stuck at home all summer, this was like going on vacation.
    Daddy paid for two Popsicles, and we sat in the car, licking the red juice that melted down the sides. A group of kids sat on the ground out front, drinking sodas and laughing. They all looked a few years older than me, but I couldn’t help wishing I had a crowd of friends like that to hang out with at the 7-Eleven. One boy was even chugging a beer, though he didn’t look nearly old enough to have it. I figured he must be a show-off, since they were all cheering him on. I could only hear small chunks of their conversations, but it was enough to know that their summer didn’t involve sick brothers and strange houseguests. And their laughter made me plumb jealous.
    Daddy was awful quiet. I could tell he was itching to say something, so I decided to break the silence and get him started. “This is good.” I slid the whole Popsicle in my mouth, chilling my tongue.
    He didn’t even look at me. He just gazed at his Popsicle and nodded his head. “Janine, I wanted you to know that things aren’t going too good right now.”
    Like I didn’t already know that! But I didn’t let on that I did. “Why?” I asked, thinking he’d talk about Ricky being so sick.
    “We don’t have any money, and . . . well . . . it looks like we might have to pay for a funeral real soon.”
    Those words crashed into me, making my Popsicle drop out of my hand and onto my lap. “No.” I shook my head. “You’re going to get a job. Ricky’s going to get better. He’s even going to build his go-cart. I’m going to help him. He already has the lumber!”
    Daddy crossed his arms on the steering wheel and leaned his head on it. “I might be using that lumber to build a coffin.” His voice cracked and hitched, and a puddle of tears came pouring out of his eyes. I was tongue-tied, not knowing what to say or do. I realized then that daddies cry too.
    The tears that had been dammed up inside me broke loose, and I squalled along with him. “He’s gonna get better, Daddy. I promise.” It was all I could think to say, even though I knew it was a sin to break a promise.
    Daddy wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve and sat up. He tossed the rest of his Popsicle out the window and cleared his throat. “I just wanted you to know how things were.” He started the engine and backed out of the 7-Eleven parking lot. The lively lit store got smaller and smaller, and soon we were back on the road to the middle of nowhere—home.

    I cried myself to sleep that night and dreamed that Mr. Lunas was building a coffin in the backyard. I woke up to the sound of movement outside the