Preacher's Boy by Katherine Paterson Page B

their father accusing Pa of believing in evolution? I knew that word, all right. It was the worst thing you could do even if you weren't a preacher—to believe that man wasn't created by God on the sixth day but had descended from the apes.
    Even to someone who had decided not to believe in God—even to an avowed unbeliever like me—the idea of having a monkey for an ancestor was disgusting. Just because they had faces like people didn't mean we were kin, for goodness' sake. A thrush and a vulture both have wings, but that doesn't make them kissing cousins.
    To taunt me, which those boys did love to do, even to taunt me that my pa would be so stupid and godless as to entertain the possibility—and then to take poor Elliot as proof—even in a joking way ... They had no right!...
    Dear God. I had nearly killed Ned Weston....I began to breathe funny. I was freezing cold and sweating at the same time. Oh, Willie, I begged, hurry up. Please. I wanted out of that dark shed even if I had no place to go. I needed clothes. But after that—after I put my clothes on—then what? It wasn't just the fear of Mr. Weston or the sheriff. It was Pa. The shame I would
bring him. Mabel Cramm's bloomers were nothing compared...
    Dok dok dok.
Who in Hades was knocking? I stooped down, squatting as close to the ground as I could, my breath so loud, I was sure it would give me away.
    The door was gently pushed open a few inches. I waited, my eyes on the dark form in the crack.
    "Robbie? You dere?"
    Elliot?
What was he doing here? I was furious. What was Willie thinking, getting Elliot mixed up in this?
    "Robbie?" he called again in his soft, tentative voice, pushing the door open just wide enough to squeeze in. He started forward.
    "Watch it!" I jumped up to grab him. I didn't want him stepping into the ice pit.
    "Robbie! You scare' me!"
    "Stay right by the door," I ordered hoarsely, returning to my dark spot. "There's a big hole in the floor."
    "Aw right," he whispered, blinking like an owl. "You naked, Robbie," he said at last.
    "Don't stare," I said. "It ain't polite."
    "Sorry, Robbie. Oh." He held out a little bundle. "Willie shay I gotta bring closh to you?" His voice went up in a question.
    I took a step forward to take the clothes. In the light from the door my skin gleamed white.
    "You
really
naked," he said.
    "Just gimme my clothes, Elliot, and stop staring, okay?"
    "Sorry, Robbie," he said, snuffling his very drippy nose.
    "Where's Willie?" I asked, dressing as fast as I could. "Why didn't he bring these himself?"
    "Mr. Weshum come callin'. Willie shay he ha' go home. He tol' me I ha' to bring you closh." He looked up proudly, then dropped his eyes when he saw I was still buttoning up my britches. "I foun' you, din' I? I foun' you aw by myshel'?"
    "Yes, Elliot."
    "Wuzzat good?"
    "Yes, Elliot."
    He was staring at me again, squinching his eyes against the dark, but I didn't object since I was nearly dressed. "Wha' happen?"
    "What do you mean, 'wha' happen?' I lost my clothes. That's wha' happen."
    "How?"
    I don't know what made me say it. I swear I don't. I guess I was just exasperated and angry and—scared. Yes, that, too. "Some kidnappers got me."
    "Wha'?"
    "Kidnappers. They steal kids. They thought if they took my clothes away, I couldn't escape and run home."
    His eyes were wide and wild now. He peered all around the icehouse in case the villains were lurking in the shadows. "Oh, Robbie." He breathed my name. "Tha's tumble."
    "Yes," I said. "Terrible."
    "Worse'n bein' los'."
    "Yes," I agreed. "Because kidnappers don't care what they do to you, long as they get their money."
    "Wha' money?"
    "The ransom money. They make your family and friends pay lots of money to get you back safe."
    "Oh, Robbie," he said in his little-boy voice. "But it's aw right now. I brung your closh. You can run 'way home."
    "It ain't that easy, Elliot," I said sadly. "Ain't that easy."
    "No?"
    "No. You see, they got me