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

dug in my closet and pulled out my old tennis shoes. I hadn’t worn shoes since the last day of school, and it seemed my feet had grown some. I tugged them on anyway. The volcano kept rising inside me as I went outside. The morning air hung soft as a thistle, and there were some patches of dew on the ground. I didn’t care. Buddy came up, thinking I would feed him. I didn’t. Instead, I ran.
    My feet were the only thing in control as I raced past Mr. Lunas and the cornfield. Buddy ran too. I glided by the barn and through the pasture, jumping rocks, bull nettles, and cow patties. I circled the old flatbed truck, scaring a small green snake that slithered under one of the rusty tire rims. The volcano had erupted, and nothing could stop it. My legs burned, but I kept running. There was a stitch in my side and I gasped for air, but I kept going. I had to run. I couldn’t stop. I needed to burn off everything that had swollen inside me during this long, hot summer vacation.
    I imagined Ricky running beside me, grinning and yelling, “Race ya!” And I wouldn’t’ve said a word about letting him win. I came back around the barn and ran straight for the old shade tree. Buddy dashed in front, almost tripping me. We stopped and panted, gasping for breath. I hugged the tree just to hold myself up. When I wiped the sweat from my eyes, I saw something that really made that volcano sizzle. Lying there in the shade, like pieces of a puzzle, were lumber, nails, bolts, and buggy wheels. All laid out like a go-cart.
    I had never understood how Ricky had imagined that go-cart before. But seeing it now, pieced together on the ground, it made perfect sense. At that moment, I knew what I had to do.
    I tried to sneak back into the house for a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk, but when I went into the kitchen, there sat Mama and Mr. Lunas. Mama looked like an old rag that had been wrung out and left in the sun to dry. Her face had new lines and shadows that hadn’t been there before. Mr. Lunas didn’t look much better. The whole room was a box of gloom. I couldn’t tell whether or not Mama had apologized to Mr. Lunas for those nasty things she’d said about him, but being a good Christian woman, I was guessing she’d done the right thing. I didn’t see Daddy anywhere and figured he must be sitting with Ricky.
    “Where’ve you been?” she asked me, her voice a raspy whisper.
    “Playing with Buddy.” Oops! I wished I’d made up a different lie. Mama probably thought I was the worst sister in the whole world. My brother’s laying in his bed, dying of Backward-Gizzard Disease, and now she’d think I was out playing instead of grieving.
    “Did you feed him?” she asked.
    “I’ll do it,” Mr. Lunas said. He scooted away from the table and hobbled to the sink. His pants were bagging again and his belt was pulled so tight, the end of it hung down in front. He bent over and opened the cabinet where Mama kept the dog food. I couldn’t help wondering if he’d ever manage to straighten himself back up. But he did . . . s-l-o-w-l-y.
    I hurried over and closed the cabinet door for him. He gave me a wink as he walked away, dog food in hand. I got my favorite cereal and bowl. When I finally sat at the table, Mama gave me the look of doom.
    “How’s Ricky?” I managed to ask.
    “Not much different than last night when you were in his room.”
    My face burned from fear. I had to say something fast. I couldn’t think of anything that didn’t involve spreading germs, so I decided to tell the truth. “I couldn’t help it, Mama. I missed him.”
    Mama hung her head and sobbed. “I don’t guess it’s gonna make much difference now anyway. He should be in a hospital where the air is sterile and clean, not this old run-down house with holes in the roof and cracks in the—”
    I think she was crying, but her eyes were dry. She surely must have run out of tears by now. I finished my breakfast and stood up to clear the dishes.