Read Online The Same Stuff as Stars by Katherine Paterson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Katherine Paterson
Ads: Link
nothing. And it
would
be nothing. Even if she had forgotten them in the diner that time, Verna wasnât going to run off and leave them like some silly teenage mother who didnât care. She loved Angel and Bernie, even if she did get mad at them sometimes.
You couldnât blame Verna for getting mad. She had a hard life. Wayne was in jail, so she had to earn enough money to take care of all three of them, and it wasnât easy getting a good job when you were a high school dropout with two kids and your husband was in jail. She was bound to get tired and worn down and lose her temper. Anybody would.
Angel slipped out from under the quilt and tiptoed around Bernieâs bed. He had thrown his covers off and was sleeping on his back with his mouth open, making little squeaky noises. Angel pulled the quilt up and patted his shoulder. He grabbed the quilt and turned over with a big sigh.
At the door across the hall she peered in. The bedclothes were flat on the double bed. No Verna there. She patted around for the stair rail and felt her way carefully down the almost black staircase. The kitchen was dark and empty. Grandma had gotten out of her rocker and gone to bed. Maybe Verna had gone outside. Lots of times she went outdoors to smoke, especially when Angel reminded her of the dangers of secondhand smoke.
She crept over to the door. The floor creaked. She stopped, but there was no noise from behind the closed door to what must be Grandmaâs bedroom. She turned the knob of the kitchen door and pulled. See? It wasnât locked. If Grandma wasnât expecting Verna back soon, she would have locked the door, wouldnât she?
Verna was nowhere to be seen. There was no sign of the pickup, either. Angel walked farther out into the yard, just to make sure. And then for no reason at all she looked up and gasped.
She had never seen such a sight in her life. The sky was alive with stars. Some places were just great splotches of brilliant light. There wasnât just one star to wish on, there was a whole sky full. They blinked and gleamed as though they were inviting her to send a million wishes up to them.
First, I wish Verna would come home right now this minute. Or at least by morning. Second, I wish Bernieâs evil wish would go away and Daddy would really come home and weâd all be happy and live in a real house in a real town.
She moved away from the house, passed the hulking shape of a shed, and gingerly picked her way across the junk-filled yard, then through a gap in a broken-down fence and out into a field. She shivered in her thin pajamas, realizing too late that she should have put on her sneakers. The ground was rough and uneven, and it pricked and poked her feet, but she couldnât help it. It was like she was enchanted, like the sky had put a spell on her. She forgot about Verna, about Wayne, even about Bernie, and just stood there with her head bent back to her spine, staring.
âBeautiful, isnât it?â
Angel jumped. The man was right behind her, towering over her. He was taller than Wayne. She turned around. She couldnât see his face clearly, but it was framed by a shaggy beard and unkempt hair.
Santy Claus.
A little flip of fear twanged against her stomach.
âDonât you love it?â
She couldnât say anything at all. His head was back now, looking at the sky. He had the huge thing she had thought of as a bazooka in his big left hand. âCome with me,â he said, straightening up. âLet me show you something.â
Angel knew better than to follow strangers. Good Lord, they lectured about it at school all the time. She shook her head. âNo. No, I have to go in,â she added, in case he couldnât see her shaking her head in the dark. âRight now.â She turned to go, careful not to touch him as she passed.
âI was just going to take a close look at Jupiter,â he said. âI bet you never saw Jupiter through a
would
be nothing. Even if she had forgotten them in the diner that time, Verna wasnât going to run off and leave them like some silly teenage mother who didnât care. She loved Angel and Bernie, even if she did get mad at them sometimes.
You couldnât blame Verna for getting mad. She had a hard life. Wayne was in jail, so she had to earn enough money to take care of all three of them, and it wasnât easy getting a good job when you were a high school dropout with two kids and your husband was in jail. She was bound to get tired and worn down and lose her temper. Anybody would.
Angel slipped out from under the quilt and tiptoed around Bernieâs bed. He had thrown his covers off and was sleeping on his back with his mouth open, making little squeaky noises. Angel pulled the quilt up and patted his shoulder. He grabbed the quilt and turned over with a big sigh.
At the door across the hall she peered in. The bedclothes were flat on the double bed. No Verna there. She patted around for the stair rail and felt her way carefully down the almost black staircase. The kitchen was dark and empty. Grandma had gotten out of her rocker and gone to bed. Maybe Verna had gone outside. Lots of times she went outdoors to smoke, especially when Angel reminded her of the dangers of secondhand smoke.
She crept over to the door. The floor creaked. She stopped, but there was no noise from behind the closed door to what must be Grandmaâs bedroom. She turned the knob of the kitchen door and pulled. See? It wasnât locked. If Grandma wasnât expecting Verna back soon, she would have locked the door, wouldnât she?
Verna was nowhere to be seen. There was no sign of the pickup, either. Angel walked farther out into the yard, just to make sure. And then for no reason at all she looked up and gasped.
She had never seen such a sight in her life. The sky was alive with stars. Some places were just great splotches of brilliant light. There wasnât just one star to wish on, there was a whole sky full. They blinked and gleamed as though they were inviting her to send a million wishes up to them.
First, I wish Verna would come home right now this minute. Or at least by morning. Second, I wish Bernieâs evil wish would go away and Daddy would really come home and weâd all be happy and live in a real house in a real town.
She moved away from the house, passed the hulking shape of a shed, and gingerly picked her way across the junk-filled yard, then through a gap in a broken-down fence and out into a field. She shivered in her thin pajamas, realizing too late that she should have put on her sneakers. The ground was rough and uneven, and it pricked and poked her feet, but she couldnât help it. It was like she was enchanted, like the sky had put a spell on her. She forgot about Verna, about Wayne, even about Bernie, and just stood there with her head bent back to her spine, staring.
âBeautiful, isnât it?â
Angel jumped. The man was right behind her, towering over her. He was taller than Wayne. She turned around. She couldnât see his face clearly, but it was framed by a shaggy beard and unkempt hair.
Santy Claus.
A little flip of fear twanged against her stomach.
âDonât you love it?â
She couldnât say anything at all. His head was back now, looking at the sky. He had the huge thing she had thought of as a bazooka in his big left hand. âCome with me,â he said, straightening up. âLet me show you something.â
Angel knew better than to follow strangers. Good Lord, they lectured about it at school all the time. She shook her head. âNo. No, I have to go in,â she added, in case he couldnât see her shaking her head in the dark. âRight now.â She turned to go, careful not to touch him as she passed.
âI was just going to take a close look at Jupiter,â he said. âI bet you never saw Jupiter through a
Similar Books
