Read Online The Voyage of Lucy P. Simmons by Barbara Mariconda - Free Book Online Page B

actually pass out. Would the water swallow up everyone and everything I loved? Mother, Father, Mr. Pugsley? I pushed back thesorrow that rose up in me like a squall.
    â€œNo,” I pleaded, “it wasn’t Mr. Pugsley’s fault.”
    â€œShut up,” he snarled. “You, missy, are not going to make a fool of me! And we won’t be spoiling you rotten like those putting-on-airs parents of yours were so fond of doing! Oh no! There’ll be no more of that, I can assure you. A little liar, you are, an ill-bred little ruffian.”
    â€œYou’re right, Uncle Victor,” I said, almost choking on the words, furious that he’d insulted my wonderful parents, but I pressed on.
    â€œI did lie. I wasn’t out there doing my chores. You were right. I was playing marbles, is what I was doing.”
    I thrust a handful of the clear aqua and agate marbles under his nose. “See! I was using these. I dropped one on the path and when I went to pick it up I stumbled. That’s how I got dirty and scratched.”
    The words poured out, one lie after the next. “And then … and then.... out here on the steps I dropped one, and, and … you stepped on it, I’m sure of it. That’s how you tripped. I am so, so sorry,” I lied, allowing the tears of fear and anger I felt at the prospect of losing Mr. Pugsley to slip down my cheeks.
    â€œI never wanted to see you get hurt,” I sobbed,channeling my frustration into my role as penitent. “I’m very sorry. Please, please don’t punish the dog. It wasn’t his fault!”
    I covered my face with my hands and chanced a glance through the tangle of hair and dirty fingers. Uncle Victor stared at me with an odd mix of anger and satisfaction—satisfaction, I’m sure, in thinking that he’d broken my spirit.
    He pulled the thin smile that spread across his lips into a grimace and lifted my chin so that I was once again eye to eye, nose to nose with him.
    â€œListen to me, missy,” he said. “There’ll be no more lying. There’ll be no more dillydallying out there near the shore. No more of your shenanigans.”
    â€œBut Mr. Pugsley …”
    â€œI’ll let you keep the dog—for now ,” he emphasized. “But the next time you disobey me, or dishonor me with a lie, the beast goes; do you understand that?”
    â€œYes,” I said, nodding, “yes, I understand.” Relief almost bowled me over.
    He took a step back from me and pointed his finger in my face.
    â€œYou, young lady—although you don’t deserve that title—will not be allowed outdoors.”
    I gasped.
    â€œBut …,” I struggled, “but what about …”
    My distress seemed to make him more adamant. “You are not to venture outside without my ex press permission, do you understand that?”
    I nodded, knowing I had no choice.
    â€œThen we understand each other,” he said. “I spare the dog, for the moment, and you answer to me. I would say that, under the circumstances, that is quite generous on my part. Now, go upstairs, missy, and do not come down until tomorrow. You will do without your dinner. Do you understand?”
    I nodded again.
    â€œNow go,” he said, with a flick of his hand. “Out of my sight!”
    I turned and left the room, walking silently past Addie and Aunt Margaret, stationed outside the door.
    As I crossed the threshold into my room, I knew I had indeed crossed another line—and had come to a curiously exhilarating, yet frightening, realization.
    In order to find Aunt Pru, rescue our home, and protect my loyal Mr. Pugsley, I would consciously and determinedly disobey—and yes—even lie to Uncle Victor when circumstances required it, as I suspected they most certainly would.
    I offered a silent apology to Mother and Father—after all, they hadn’t raised me to be dishonest or disobedient. This I