here? It ain’t because of your math.”
“I’m here because my aunts want me here.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it’s something I’d come to believe.
“Sorry to get your back up. I worry ’bout Ray. He needs protecting.”
It was about two weeks later. I finished my chores for the day, scouring out the oven in the kitchen and setting the mousetraps. I grabbed the last of the root beer out of the refrigerator case. When I closed thedoor to the case, Aunt Cleo’s head popped up. She was over by the cash register, snoozing as usual, wrapped up in her quilt. “Can I help you?”
“It wasn’t a customer, Cleo,” Aunt Minnie said. “Just Orphea running across the road as usual.”
“When is the soda delivery coming?” I asked. “We’re out of root beer.”
Aunt Minnie grunted. “Spring. He’ll drink ginger ale, I reckon. Next time take him one of them.”
The day was overcast but not as cold. I’d been on Proud Road for six weeks. The daylight was lasting longer. Ray and I had fallen into a routine. Every day after chores, I went over. He painted. I sat. The whole idea of writing had gone down the tubes. This particular day when I got there, something unusual occurred. The door to the cellar was padlocked. Whenever Ray locked his root cellar it was always from the inside.
I knocked. “Hey, Ray! It’s me! Are you in there?”
He stepped out from behind a tree. He wasn’t wearing his coat. He did, however, have on his shirt and jeans.
“Good morning. Going for a gallop? Didn’t see you out here earlier.”
There was a glint in his eye. “I was up all night.”
“Painting horses?”
“Not exactly.”
He unlocked the padlock on the cellar door with an old iron key. “Didn’t want to take a chance on you getting here before I woke up.”
“What’s going on?”
He propped open the door with a loose rock. The cellar walls were washed with light. To my right, I saw the usual horses. But directly to my left I saw something that hadn’t been there before. A life-size girl with pale gray eyes, taking up a whole wall! I drew in a breath. Lissa!
“How did you do that, Ray?”
He had gotten her just right!
“You showed me her picture, remember? But then she kind of painted herself.”
“She looks so alive.”
“Glad you like it.”
He’d managed to capture the light in her eyes, her moon-shaped face, her long arms and thick black braid … she was wearing an orange blouse.
“Orange was one of her favorite colors. How did you know?”
“I didn’t. Color just goes good with her hair.”
I felt a stab in my chest. “I miss her, Ray.”
“That’s what you keep saying. Ask her to come for a visit. She can stay with us, if your aunts ain’t got the room. She can sleep in my bed.”
“Thanks, that’s sweet. But there’s a reason she can’t visit. She died.”
He hung his head. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“It’s a secret. Don’t tell my aunts, okay? And don’t tell Lola.”
“If that’s what suits you.”
I sat down in front of the portrait. I couldn’t stop looking at her, even though it hurt.
Ray scooted for the door. “I’m going to my house. I ain’t brushed my teeth.”
“Want to know another secret, Ray?& I loved her.”
“Same way I loved Saint?”
“Sort of …”
The tears I’d saved up since I came to Proud Road began to trickle out.
That night I tossed and turned in the little bed in the loft. Seeing Lissa in the root cellar looking so alive made me remember how happy she made me; and that made me remember that she was gone. I got up and tiptoed downstairs. Aunt Cleo and Aunt Minnie were sound asleep in their room, both of them snoring. The only light came from the glowing embers in the potbellied stove and the half-moon out the window.
I felt my way to Nadine’s room and sat stiffly on the side of her bed. The room smelled like musty lavender. Was that the way she had smelled? I tried to remember. She had smelled
“I’m here because my aunts want me here.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it’s something I’d come to believe.
“Sorry to get your back up. I worry ’bout Ray. He needs protecting.”
It was about two weeks later. I finished my chores for the day, scouring out the oven in the kitchen and setting the mousetraps. I grabbed the last of the root beer out of the refrigerator case. When I closed thedoor to the case, Aunt Cleo’s head popped up. She was over by the cash register, snoozing as usual, wrapped up in her quilt. “Can I help you?”
“It wasn’t a customer, Cleo,” Aunt Minnie said. “Just Orphea running across the road as usual.”
“When is the soda delivery coming?” I asked. “We’re out of root beer.”
Aunt Minnie grunted. “Spring. He’ll drink ginger ale, I reckon. Next time take him one of them.”
The day was overcast but not as cold. I’d been on Proud Road for six weeks. The daylight was lasting longer. Ray and I had fallen into a routine. Every day after chores, I went over. He painted. I sat. The whole idea of writing had gone down the tubes. This particular day when I got there, something unusual occurred. The door to the cellar was padlocked. Whenever Ray locked his root cellar it was always from the inside.
I knocked. “Hey, Ray! It’s me! Are you in there?”
He stepped out from behind a tree. He wasn’t wearing his coat. He did, however, have on his shirt and jeans.
“Good morning. Going for a gallop? Didn’t see you out here earlier.”
There was a glint in his eye. “I was up all night.”
“Painting horses?”
“Not exactly.”
He unlocked the padlock on the cellar door with an old iron key. “Didn’t want to take a chance on you getting here before I woke up.”
“What’s going on?”
He propped open the door with a loose rock. The cellar walls were washed with light. To my right, I saw the usual horses. But directly to my left I saw something that hadn’t been there before. A life-size girl with pale gray eyes, taking up a whole wall! I drew in a breath. Lissa!
“How did you do that, Ray?”
He had gotten her just right!
“You showed me her picture, remember? But then she kind of painted herself.”
“She looks so alive.”
“Glad you like it.”
He’d managed to capture the light in her eyes, her moon-shaped face, her long arms and thick black braid … she was wearing an orange blouse.
“Orange was one of her favorite colors. How did you know?”
“I didn’t. Color just goes good with her hair.”
I felt a stab in my chest. “I miss her, Ray.”
“That’s what you keep saying. Ask her to come for a visit. She can stay with us, if your aunts ain’t got the room. She can sleep in my bed.”
“Thanks, that’s sweet. But there’s a reason she can’t visit. She died.”
He hung his head. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“It’s a secret. Don’t tell my aunts, okay? And don’t tell Lola.”
“If that’s what suits you.”
I sat down in front of the portrait. I couldn’t stop looking at her, even though it hurt.
Ray scooted for the door. “I’m going to my house. I ain’t brushed my teeth.”
“Want to know another secret, Ray?& I loved her.”
“Same way I loved Saint?”
“Sort of …”
The tears I’d saved up since I came to Proud Road began to trickle out.
That night I tossed and turned in the little bed in the loft. Seeing Lissa in the root cellar looking so alive made me remember how happy she made me; and that made me remember that she was gone. I got up and tiptoed downstairs. Aunt Cleo and Aunt Minnie were sound asleep in their room, both of them snoring. The only light came from the glowing embers in the potbellied stove and the half-moon out the window.
I felt my way to Nadine’s room and sat stiffly on the side of her bed. The room smelled like musty lavender. Was that the way she had smelled? I tried to remember. She had smelled
Similar Books
