Read Online Welcome to Fred (The Fred Books) by Brad Whittington - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brad Whittington
Ads: Link
didn’t have the slightest intention of following her. My curiosity was safely dead, no longer a threat to the welfare of any cats in the vicinity.
I entered the house by the back door, just as I would have if I had been with M. I did my best to behave normally, which was difficult for an eleven-year-old recently in fear for his life. The dinner plates were still on the table, but the kitchen was empty. I looked in Dad’s study. A book lay open on his desk with some notes. An ink pen lay on the floor by the chair.
As I passed by the downstairs bathroom, I heard the toilet tank filling, but the door was open, the room empty. Somebody had been here not very long ago. I checked the living room. No one. Nobody on the first floor. I went upstairs and checked the bedrooms, also empty. “Heidi? Hannah? Mom? Dad? Hello?” My voice echoed in the old frame house.
I went back downstairs, but the place had not repopulated. It made no sense. I went up to my room and took the flashlight from my sock drawer. Looking in the attic for my family made no sense, but the house being empty made no sense, either, so it seemed the logical thing to do.
What I found was equally logical. Nothing. Then it hit me. The Rapture! Jesus had come back and they had all been snatched away. One will be taken and the other left. But . . . but . . . I was left! How could this be? Wasn’t there supposed to be a Tribulation or something? What about the Mark of the Beast? I didn’t remember anybody trying to make me take a mark of any kind in order to get food. “I think I would have remembered something like that,” I whispered to myself. “In fact, I remember it not happening.”
I looked out the window. The car was gone. My apprehension about the Rapture diminished. They wouldn’t take a Vauxhall to heaven, would they? I thought people were supposed to just vanish, or maybe fly up into the clouds. I didn’t remember any verses about a road trip to the New Jerusalem. An old folk song flashed randomly through my mind: “
There was two little imps and they was black as tar and they was trying to get to heaven in an electric car.
” That was no help. Besides, the Vauxhall had a gasoline engine.
I went down three floors in a calmer frame of mind and tried the basement. There was Dad, changing the plug on the lawn mower. I had no fear of Raptures now. There was no question that if—I mean when—a Rapture happened, Dad would definitely have his ticket punched.
“Where is everybody?” I plopped down on an overturned laundry basket that promptly collapsed and deposited me on the floor.
“They went to see
The Jungle Book
,” he said without looking up.
“What? Without me?” This news was worse than almost being murdered in an alley and almost being left behind in the Rapture.
“They intended to take you, but when they went to the Marshalls’ to see if you wanted to go . . .” Dad applied a final turn to the new spark plug and looked at me over his glasses.
Uh oh. My mind raced, searching frantically for some plausible lie. I imagined my eyes were blinking on and off like the lights of the computers computing an answer in the movies. But no paper tape rolled out of my mouth with a solution. I was in for it, and no mistake.
“Imagine our surprise when we found out you weren’t there.” He wrinkled his nose in an attempt to adjust his glasses without using his greasy hands. “A conundrum that stymied even the most astute member of the force. Would you care to venture an explanation before you are sentenced?”
I was afraid the truth would sound more outrageous than a lie, but after the multiple shocks my system had sustained, I had no energy left to formulate even the most rudimentary of lies. It was a fair cop.
“I was taking a can of soup to a hobo lady who lives in a cardboard box downtown. It took awhile because she told me her life story.”
Dad nodded. “Excellent.” He wiped his hand on his pants and held it out to me. I
I entered the house by the back door, just as I would have if I had been with M. I did my best to behave normally, which was difficult for an eleven-year-old recently in fear for his life. The dinner plates were still on the table, but the kitchen was empty. I looked in Dad’s study. A book lay open on his desk with some notes. An ink pen lay on the floor by the chair.
As I passed by the downstairs bathroom, I heard the toilet tank filling, but the door was open, the room empty. Somebody had been here not very long ago. I checked the living room. No one. Nobody on the first floor. I went upstairs and checked the bedrooms, also empty. “Heidi? Hannah? Mom? Dad? Hello?” My voice echoed in the old frame house.
I went back downstairs, but the place had not repopulated. It made no sense. I went up to my room and took the flashlight from my sock drawer. Looking in the attic for my family made no sense, but the house being empty made no sense, either, so it seemed the logical thing to do.
What I found was equally logical. Nothing. Then it hit me. The Rapture! Jesus had come back and they had all been snatched away. One will be taken and the other left. But . . . but . . . I was left! How could this be? Wasn’t there supposed to be a Tribulation or something? What about the Mark of the Beast? I didn’t remember anybody trying to make me take a mark of any kind in order to get food. “I think I would have remembered something like that,” I whispered to myself. “In fact, I remember it not happening.”
I looked out the window. The car was gone. My apprehension about the Rapture diminished. They wouldn’t take a Vauxhall to heaven, would they? I thought people were supposed to just vanish, or maybe fly up into the clouds. I didn’t remember any verses about a road trip to the New Jerusalem. An old folk song flashed randomly through my mind: “
There was two little imps and they was black as tar and they was trying to get to heaven in an electric car.
” That was no help. Besides, the Vauxhall had a gasoline engine.
I went down three floors in a calmer frame of mind and tried the basement. There was Dad, changing the plug on the lawn mower. I had no fear of Raptures now. There was no question that if—I mean when—a Rapture happened, Dad would definitely have his ticket punched.
“Where is everybody?” I plopped down on an overturned laundry basket that promptly collapsed and deposited me on the floor.
“They went to see
The Jungle Book
,” he said without looking up.
“What? Without me?” This news was worse than almost being murdered in an alley and almost being left behind in the Rapture.
“They intended to take you, but when they went to the Marshalls’ to see if you wanted to go . . .” Dad applied a final turn to the new spark plug and looked at me over his glasses.
Uh oh. My mind raced, searching frantically for some plausible lie. I imagined my eyes were blinking on and off like the lights of the computers computing an answer in the movies. But no paper tape rolled out of my mouth with a solution. I was in for it, and no mistake.
“Imagine our surprise when we found out you weren’t there.” He wrinkled his nose in an attempt to adjust his glasses without using his greasy hands. “A conundrum that stymied even the most astute member of the force. Would you care to venture an explanation before you are sentenced?”
I was afraid the truth would sound more outrageous than a lie, but after the multiple shocks my system had sustained, I had no energy left to formulate even the most rudimentary of lies. It was a fair cop.
“I was taking a can of soup to a hobo lady who lives in a cardboard box downtown. It took awhile because she told me her life story.”
Dad nodded. “Excellent.” He wiped his hand on his pants and held it out to me. I
Similar Books
