Read Online The Unmaking of Rabbit by Constance C. Greene - Free Book Online Page B

ornithologist away with feckless Paul told himself. “I’m thinking of being a film director,” he said, without warning.
    Gran raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t know you were interested in that sort of thing,” she said.
    Paul blushed. He’d been thinking about being a director or an actor for some time, but he’d never mentioned it. “I might like to try acting too,” he went on boldly, “but I hear those lights get pretty hot.”
    â€œI know a kid who’s got a really first-rate camera,” Gordon said. “He takes pictures all the time. He wants to be a photographer. Maybe you could meet him if you come to visit me.”
    Paul nodded, too overcome for words. Gordon liked him well enough to talk about inviting him to his house! When Gran wasn’t looking, he picked up his plate and ran his tongue around to get the best and last of the syrup. Gordon followed suit, and Gran turned around just in time to catch him at it. Naturally, she couldn’t bawl out a guest, but Paul was sure she’d clue in Mrs. Tuttle to the fact that her grandson might be a tennis champ and a genius, but it was certainly too bad his table manners had been neglected.
    â€œNothing left for you, fat cat,” Paul told Flora, who only swished her tail. “Let’s go,” he commanded, and he and Gordon, who mumbled thanks to Gran, took off. When they got to school, it was late. Paul had taken the long way to avoid a possible meeting with Freddy or anyone else who might call him Rabbit. He didn’t want to be called that in front of Gordon.
    â€œI get out at three,” Paul said. “If you want, you can meet me here.”
    â€œMaybe,” Gordon said. “If nothing else turns up. Take it easy.”
    Promptly at three, Gordon was waiting. “I’ve gotta go see a friend of mine to find out something,” Paul said importantly. He felt good taking Gordon to the store because the Barkers were always so glad to see him. Sure enough, Mrs. Barker was there helping out, and she said, “My, it’s nice to see you. How’ve you been keeping?” She smiled, revealing her two lovely gold teeth, which Paul thought much nicer than plain teeth. They sure beat Mrs. Tuttle’s. “I made a peach pie for tonight,” Mrs. Barker said. “We’re expecting you. I don’t know you, do I?” she asked Gordon. “Those are some fine freckles you’ve got. I always did want to have freckles and red hair. You’re lucky.” She drew breath long enough for Paul to introduce Gordon and explain that he was a visitor in town.
    â€œBring him along for supper,” she directed. “The more the merrier.” For one fleeting moment Paul knew a pang of jealousy. It was supposed to be his evening with the Barkers.
    â€œThat was pretty nice of her invite me when she doesn’t even know me.” Gordon said on the way home.
    Paul said, “She’s a cool lady,” with a proprietary air. After all, Mrs. Barker was his friend.
    Gran said that as long as they were both invited out, she and Mrs. Tuttle would take in an early movie. “That’s very nice of them,” she had said grudgingly, when she found out about their asking Gordon.
    It was a perfect evening. From the moment Mr. Barker opened the door, shouting, “Welcome, Welcome!” to the ride home through the dark, Paul was filled with happiness. He even found out Mrs. Barker’s name was Irma. “Irma, our guests are here!” Mr. Barker called when he’d taken their coats. Paul had never heard the name before. He thought it suited her.
    First they had tomato juice cocktail with little wedges of lemon, just like in a restaurant. Then stew, succulent with rich gravy, onions, and carrots. Mrs. Barker had made biscuits no bigger than fifty-cent pieces, and they had celery and both black and green olives. Just like Thanksgiving dinner.
    Then