Read Online The House You Pass on the Way by Jacqueline Woodson - Free Book Online Page B

to Staggerlee. “Sometimes I want that, though—to just be able to walk out into the world and be. I couldn’t imagine going to some party with a girl as my date.”
    “Why not?”
    Trout shrugged. “I guess I’m just . . . I don’t know—I don’t have what it would take. To have people pointing and laughing, that would kill me. Would you do it?”
    Staggerlee nodded. “If I loved someone enough, I would go anywhere in the world with them.” She thought about Hazel. She would’ve walked off the end of the world with her and not cared about anyone saying anything. Maybe that’s what she should have told Hazel that morning in the school yard.
    “That’s good that you have that in you. I think some people can do it and some people can’t. I wish I was one of the ones who had that kind of . . . of whatever it is, in me.”
    “Maybe you’ll have it one day. Maybe it comes later on for some people.”
    Trout shook her head and smiled.
    “I’d never leave you standing in a field, Trout. If you called my name, I’d answer.”
    “I know.”
    “I’d say, ‘Hey, Trout. What you know good? Where you been, girl?’”
    “And I’d say, ‘Hey, Staggerlee. It’s been a long time.’ Trout sounded groggy.
    “I’d like that,” Staggerlee said softly. “I’d like to have someone else like me somewhere in the world.”
    But Trout’s breath was coming soft and even, and Staggerlee knew she had fallen asleep.

Chapter Thirteen
    WHEN TROUT CAME DOWNSTAIRS THE NEXT MORNING, Staggerlee was dressing Battle. He smiled when he saw her.
    “Hey, Battle,” Trout said, bending down to kiss him.
    “Dotti’s taking him out with her today—visiting,” Staggerlee said, lacing his shoe. She felt nervous suddenly. Last night had almost seemed like a dream, and she wondered how much Trout remembered. “I have to clean the kitchen. Mama’s not feeling so well. We left some breakfast out for you.”
    Trout looked at her without smiling.
    “What?” Staggerlee said.
    “Nothing.”
    Dotti came down the stairs and lifted Battle into her arms. She and Trout exchanged looks.
    “Hey, Trout. How’s it going?”
    “Fine, thanks.”
    Trout looked down at her hands and continued staring at them until Dotti and Battle were gone.
    “She makes me feel weird,” Trout said in the kitchen. Staggerlee set a plate of toast and eggs in front of her.
    “That’s just Dotti. I think she practices that in the mirror—seeing how weird she can make people feel.”
    Trout ate slowly. “Sorry I woke you up last night like that.”
    “That’s okay.”
    Trout chewed a piece of toast. She ate delicately, carefully. “Hallique was the only one I’ve ever told anything to. It feels weird this morning now.”
    “I never told anybody,” Staggerlee said softly.
    “Nobody?”
    Staggerlee shook her head and smiled.
    “Geez.”
    “It feels good, though.” Staggerlee looked at her. “I mean, I feel—relieved, I guess. Like I’m not walking around anymore with this thing I can’t tell anyone.”
    “You never told anyone ?”
    Staggerlee shook her head, then got up and started clearing the table. Trout took a last bite of egg and rose to help her. Staggerlee felt lighter this morning, happier than she’d felt in a long time.
    “Not even your best friend?”
    “I don’t have a best friend,” Staggerlee said quietly. The words embarrassed her suddenly. “I don’t really—” She turned to Trout, and the look in Trout’s eyes made her stop midsentence. Trout’s look said she was coming to some deep conclusion about Staggerlee. “Nothing.”
    “Why not?”
    Staggerlee turned back to the sink. The light feeling she’d had a moment before was gone. She felt like a freak now.
    “I just never did.”
    “Is it because of them?” Trout pointed to a picture of their grandparents.
    Staggerlee stared at it a long time, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. People act weird about them. But I don’t know if that’s it. At school