Read Online To Come and Go Like Magic by Katie Pickard Fawcett - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Katie Pickard Fawcett
Ads: Link
again. Finally, the new light in place, the room explodes with the brightness of a hospital hallway. No more spotlight and shadows.
L ures …
I’m sitting at the kitchen table helping Uncle Lucius sort his fishing lures. Today he wants to use the bluish green ones only. No reds or orange or yellow. No solid colors. He’s going after sunfish, he says, and they like the blue-greens.
“How do you know what they like?” I ask.
“You have to learn to think like a fish,” he says.
He’s brought two tackle boxes to the table and each one has a whole bunch of little compartments full of plastic lures and rubber worms. Some of the lures look like tiny fish with feathery tails and fins. The worms have segments on their bodies like real worms, except they’re purple and pink and every other weird color you can imagine for a worm. I’m careful not to hook my fingers as I separate the blue-green lures and worms and line them up on the table.
The house is quiet. Everyone gone. I remember theMay Day parade, the mayor riding with those strange men, and Uncle Lu and his friends getting angry over that coal-company car being in the parade.
“What’s strip-mining, Uncle Lu?”
“Scalping,” he says, looking at me from across the table, his glasses sitting lopsided on his nose.
“Scalping?”
“They scrape away the trees and blast off the tops of the mountains.”
“Why?”
“To get to the coal,” he says. “It’s cheap and easy that way.”
“Are the strip miners coming to Mercy Hill?”
“Nope.” He laughs and shakes his head. “They’re just wishing and hoping.”
“How do you—”
“The Mahoneys own this mountain,” he says. “Your momma, that is.”
“So …”
“Everything aboveground; everything below.”
“Could we be rich if—”
“Doubtful,” says Uncle Lu. “This land’s not worth much except for the coal, and that mountain was not meant to be torn apart. It’s been passed down through your momma’s family.”
I remember what Will Epperson said at the paradeand figure my uncle must have answers. “Why are the strip miners worse—”
“Look at this!” Uncle Lu holds up a set of keys and dangles them in front of me. The key ring has some kind of wooden whistle attached to it.
“What’s that?”
“A duck call,” he says. He puts the whistle to his lips and makes a strange sound like a hoarse bird trying to sing. “I used to hunt duck,” he says. “But now I’m more
like
a duck.”
“What do you mean?”
“I hunt fish.” Uncle Lu laughs like this is the funniest joke anybody’s ever told.
I hand him three pretty blue-green worms from my box that look almost like candy.
“Why are the strip miners worse than the Matlocks?” I ask, finally getting it all out.
“They bring destruction,” he says. “They’re all alike.”
“Are these the same Matlocks as Miss Matlock who lives down the road?”
“They’re all alike,” he says again.
“But …”
Uncle Lu jumps up from the table and dangles those keys in my face again. “Now I know what these fit!” he says. “They’re the keys to my boat.”
“You don’t have a boat anymore, Uncle Lu.”
“It’s red and white and it’s hooked up down at theriver,” he says. He turns and starts for the door. “We’ll take out the boat….”
“Aunt Gretchen sold it,” I say. “Last summer. Remember?”
He comes back to the table with a puzzled look on his face, takes off his glasses, and sits back down across from me.
“I remember Gretchen,” he says. “She was a pretty woman.”
“But we were talking about the Matlocks….”
He waves his hand to shush me. “I don’t want to talk no more,” he says.
C aught in the Wind …
Our water pump broke and the plumber says it’ll take a week to get the part we need, so we go to Aunt Rose’s house in town to get water. City water comes from the Cumberland River and Pop says it’s nasty and tastes like chemicals. He’d take our well water
L ures …
I’m sitting at the kitchen table helping Uncle Lucius sort his fishing lures. Today he wants to use the bluish green ones only. No reds or orange or yellow. No solid colors. He’s going after sunfish, he says, and they like the blue-greens.
“How do you know what they like?” I ask.
“You have to learn to think like a fish,” he says.
He’s brought two tackle boxes to the table and each one has a whole bunch of little compartments full of plastic lures and rubber worms. Some of the lures look like tiny fish with feathery tails and fins. The worms have segments on their bodies like real worms, except they’re purple and pink and every other weird color you can imagine for a worm. I’m careful not to hook my fingers as I separate the blue-green lures and worms and line them up on the table.
The house is quiet. Everyone gone. I remember theMay Day parade, the mayor riding with those strange men, and Uncle Lu and his friends getting angry over that coal-company car being in the parade.
“What’s strip-mining, Uncle Lu?”
“Scalping,” he says, looking at me from across the table, his glasses sitting lopsided on his nose.
“Scalping?”
“They scrape away the trees and blast off the tops of the mountains.”
“Why?”
“To get to the coal,” he says. “It’s cheap and easy that way.”
“Are the strip miners coming to Mercy Hill?”
“Nope.” He laughs and shakes his head. “They’re just wishing and hoping.”
“How do you—”
“The Mahoneys own this mountain,” he says. “Your momma, that is.”
“So …”
“Everything aboveground; everything below.”
“Could we be rich if—”
“Doubtful,” says Uncle Lu. “This land’s not worth much except for the coal, and that mountain was not meant to be torn apart. It’s been passed down through your momma’s family.”
I remember what Will Epperson said at the paradeand figure my uncle must have answers. “Why are the strip miners worse—”
“Look at this!” Uncle Lu holds up a set of keys and dangles them in front of me. The key ring has some kind of wooden whistle attached to it.
“What’s that?”
“A duck call,” he says. He puts the whistle to his lips and makes a strange sound like a hoarse bird trying to sing. “I used to hunt duck,” he says. “But now I’m more
like
a duck.”
“What do you mean?”
“I hunt fish.” Uncle Lu laughs like this is the funniest joke anybody’s ever told.
I hand him three pretty blue-green worms from my box that look almost like candy.
“Why are the strip miners worse than the Matlocks?” I ask, finally getting it all out.
“They bring destruction,” he says. “They’re all alike.”
“Are these the same Matlocks as Miss Matlock who lives down the road?”
“They’re all alike,” he says again.
“But …”
Uncle Lu jumps up from the table and dangles those keys in my face again. “Now I know what these fit!” he says. “They’re the keys to my boat.”
“You don’t have a boat anymore, Uncle Lu.”
“It’s red and white and it’s hooked up down at theriver,” he says. He turns and starts for the door. “We’ll take out the boat….”
“Aunt Gretchen sold it,” I say. “Last summer. Remember?”
He comes back to the table with a puzzled look on his face, takes off his glasses, and sits back down across from me.
“I remember Gretchen,” he says. “She was a pretty woman.”
“But we were talking about the Matlocks….”
He waves his hand to shush me. “I don’t want to talk no more,” he says.
C aught in the Wind …
Our water pump broke and the plumber says it’ll take a week to get the part we need, so we go to Aunt Rose’s house in town to get water. City water comes from the Cumberland River and Pop says it’s nasty and tastes like chemicals. He’d take our well water
Similar Books
