Violet Raines Almost Got Struck by Lightning by Danette Haworth Page B

wasn’t home either.
    â€œActually,” I said, “Mrs. Raines is here, but she’s taking a shower.”
    Then he said his name and that he was a reporter from the newspaper and how he got this letter about a tragic incident, that’s what he called it, and he wanted to come talk with everyone involved. Today.
    â€œToday?” I shouted. I got that man’s number, called Momma at work, and now here we sit, me and Lottie, the ones involved in the tragic incident.
    Except I must admit I don’t feel tragic at all. Momma’s here, Lottie’s whole family’s here, and everyone’s happy. Even Melissa being here with her momma don’t spoil it for me.
    First off, he asks each of us to describe in our own words what happened. We interrupt each other a lot, adding details and parts the other one forgot. He laughs. “You girls are like sisters, the way you finish each other’s sentences.”
    We look at each other and giggle. At the same time, I say, “We practically are!” and Lottie says, “Violet practically lives at our house!” and then we laugh some more.
    I like how he writes down every little thing we say, like it’s so important. The photographer comes over and takes a few pictures of us. Melissa’s watching from the side. She wants to be in the picture so bad, I just know it. Well, this is just for those who were involved in the tragic incident, and that is not her.
    â€œOh, I just want to get one thing right,” the reporter says. He looks at Lottie. “Your name, ‘Lottie’—is that with an ‘i’ or a ‘y’ at the end?”
    â€œActually, it’s—” I start to correct him, but Lottie talks over me.
    â€œActually, I have a question,” she says. “If something’s in the paper, does that mean it’s the truth? Like that’s the way things really are?”
    The reporter nods. “We’d get in big trouble if we didn’t get things right.”
    â€œOkay, then.” She takes a big breath. “My name is Char.”
    I turn so quick I almost snap my neck. “ Char? Where’d you get that from?”
    Lottie’s face gets pink, but she keeps her eyes on the reporter. “It’s short for Charlotte,” she tells him. “C-h-a-r.”
    Char . It’s so pretty. Only one thing: “Did Melissa make that up for you?”
    â€œNo.” She jerks her head at me. “I came up with it myself.”
    In that case, “I love it,” I say.
    â€œMe too!” Melissa says from the steps. “It sounds like a celebrity name.” She waves her hand as if Lottie’s new name was on a marquee. “Char!”
    â€œShort for ‘Charlotte,’ ” Lottie says again.
    The reporter writes it down. Then he smiles at Melissa. “Okay, Melissa, let’s get your story.”
    I leap up. “She wasn’t even there!”
    â€œViolet!” Lottie says as if I’m acting foolish. Melissa swings around the banister and sits on the other side of her. That girl moves just like a cat.
    The reporter says, “We want folks to know about the good neighbors around here.”
    â€œThank you,” Melissa purrs.
    I sit back down ’cause I got to hear what she says. It’s all true, how Lottie’s family is staying over there, but oh, my Lord, she makes herself out to be an angel, and she really doesn’t have anything to do with this. The more I listen, the more my lips pout and my eyes become slits.
    Flash! The photographer takes our picture. “One more,” he says. I’m so mad at Melissa horning in on mine and Lottie’s tragic incident, I don’t even make my fake-happy face. I let the real me show through.

25
    As soon as the talking was done, the excitement around here cleared out faster than church on Super Bowl Sunday. Momma went back to work and Mrs. Gold went home. Hannah and Ashley