Bread and Roses, Too by Katherine Paterson

Author:Katherine Paterson [Paterson, Katherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

He still had money in his pockets from the priest's handout. He stopped by the Syrian shop, which stayed open most of the night, and got more whiskey. He needed to grease the old man up before asking for anything as weighty as his signature.

The shack was pitch dark inside. "Pa?" he whispered. "You here? It's me, Jake. I brung you a treat."

No answer. He must be out. Jake felt his way to the table. His hand found the oil lamp, but even patting the whole tabletop, he couldn't locate matches. There weren't any. He hadn't bought any for ages. He shuffled across the dirt floor to the bed. He'd just have to wait until his pa came home. He eased himself down, but when he started to push himself over to the wall, he hit something. It was Pa, lying there peaceful as the grave, not even snoring. His first thought was relief—no beating tonight. Maybe none tomorrow. And when he explained to Pa that he'd be going to New York—to work!—why, the old man would just jump to sign the card.

He slid under the thin quilt. Hell's bells, it was cold in the shack. You'd think Pa would have warmed the bed a bit by now, but then Jake had gotten soft, sleeping in churches and all. He'd clean forgot how cold the shack could be, almost as bad as a trash pile. He didn't think he could sleep, freezing as it was and excited as he was, waiting for day to come. He had to have the card signed early and get to the hall. They'd be gathering to go to the train station by nine, they'd said. So he had to be there before then. But he did fall asleep, waking with a start when light came through the dirty window and the cracks around the door.

"Pa ... Pa," he whispered. He didn't want to wake him up too fast; it might anger him to be woken up abruptly from his sleep. Jake leaned up on his elbow and looked at his pa—stubble-bearded, his face grimy as ever—so still and peaceful. Jake had never seen him so quiet.

Something jarred inside Jake's chest. So still—too still—he was. "Pa?" Jake lay his hand on his father's arm. Then, trying hard not to panic, he cupped his hand over the man's mouth and nose. There was no hint of movement, no breath. He jumped out of the bed. "Pa!" he yelled. "Wake up! Wake up, damn you!" There was no response.

By the wall, at his father's right hand, the whiskey bottle he'd bought two days earlier lay empty. Empty as the husk on the bed. He'd slept all night with a dead body. He hadn't even had the sense to know that his pa was lying there stiff and dead beside him. Cor, what a fool he was.

I killed him. Didn't I wish him dead more than once? Didn't I buy the poison that done it? Jake could hardly breathe.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.