Read Online Pieces of Why by K. L. Going - Free Book Online Page B

meticulously, and set them in the trash can by the side of the house. Then I swept the sidewalk with a broken broom that had been sitting beside the door. The handle was cracked in the middle, so it took me a long time. All the while, the sun was hot on my back and my hair loosed itself from my elastic and fell into my face.
    A soft hitching noise made me look up, and that’s when I saw the Raven woman standing in her doorway. A long black skirt billowed around her legs, blowing in the breeze.
    Our eyes met and my heart skipped a beat.
    At first I thought she might turn around and go back inside, but instead she walked down the few steps to thesidewalk and opened her front gate. It creaked on rusty hinges, the sound piercing the humid air. She came over and crouched beside me, reaching for a stuffed elephant that had gotten ground into the mud at the bottom of the fence. Ever so carefully, she brushed the dirt off its soft gray surface. Then she touched her finger to her tongue, rubbing the elephant’s tiny glass eyes.
    â€œThere,” she said, in an accent so thick, I could hardly make out the word. “Now it will be . . .” She seemed to search her mind. “Best?”
    I nodded blankly.
    I might have said a million different things, but the woman reached out and touched my hair, her fingers trailing a long, unruly strand.
    â€œPretty,” she said, smiling sadly.
    â€œThank you,” I whispered.
    Her eyes were red-rimmed and she looked tired. I wondered how she’d managed to get out of bed, and I was about to say something about being sorry for what had happened, but then she did something I didn’t expect.
    She reached out and picked up the photo of my father.
    â€œNo,” I sputtered. “Don’t.”
    My hand grabbed for hers, but she brushed me aside. Carefully, she hung my father’s picture on the fence between a photo of her son and a hand-painted sign that read LOVE NEVER DIES .
    â€œPlease,” I pleaded. “He shouldn’t be up there.”
    I reached out, but the woman stopped my hand.
    â€œStay,” she said firmly.
    She patted my hand twice as if to ensure that I wouldn’t remove my father’s photo, and then she turned and walked up the steps. I watched her pause at her door and look back at me with a knowing, exhausted look. She thought I was grieving, like her. I couldn’t let her think that, but how could I tell her the truth?
    At last, she disappeared inside, leaving me to stare at my father’s picture, knowing he was looking back at me from the last place he belonged.

CHAPTER 13
    M ONDAY MOR NING , I sat at the kitchen table stealing glances at the Sunday paper, which Ma had brought home a day late. She could take papers for free if there were leftovers, and she always brought a stack for wrapping stuff.
    There was an article about the baby. POLICE ANNOUNCE LEADS . Above the article was a picture of the baby’s mother at the funeral, sagging into the arms of the people supporting her on either side. Her face was turned up to the sky as if she were sending God an ocean of fury.
    Maybe God deserved her anger. Or maybe the person who did the carjacking deserved it and God was getting a raw deal. I didn’t know.
    I closed my eyes and breathed deep, but Ma interrupted, her voice stern.
    â€œTia, your toast is getting cold.” Ma came over and shut the paper with a slap. Then she threw it into an empty box, and carried the box to her bedroom.
    â€œI was reading that,” I called after her, but she didn’t answer, just came back and sat down across from me. I thought for sure she was going to say something about my father. She was finally going to tell me everything. I took a deep breath, my chest tightening, willing it to happen.
    â€œWant to play Scrabble?”
    What?
    â€œUh, I-I,” I stammered. “I guess so?”
    â€œGreat.”
    Ma got up and took the game out of the hall