Sisters One, Two, Three by Nancy Star

Author:Nancy Star [Star, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
ISBN: 9781503937468
Google: K0wKkAEACAAJ
Amazon: 1503937461
Goodreads: 29806089
Publisher: Amazon Publishing
Published: 2017-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Up in their room, Mimi asked Ginger if she thought Charlie was okay and Ginger said yes. “Are you positive,” Mimi pressed her, “or are you just saying that?”

“Positive,” Ginger said, though she suspected Mimi could tell it was a lie.

They tried to think of ways to make time go faster so that Charlie would be home soon. That he might not come home at all had not occurred to either of them. It was after dark when they heard the front door open and voices whispering and the door clacking closed. Mr. Diggans, his voice friendlier than normal, told someone, “That’s not the sun. That’s the moon,” and the person laughed. Callie.

Ginger and Mimi raced down, and Mr. Diggans rose to his feet. “Whoa. Ho. Hey. Sounds like the running of the bulls here. Why aren’t you two asleep?”

“What happened?” Ginger asked, and Callie shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t know.

“Upstairs,” Mr. Diggans said. “It’s way past bedtime.”

“How come she gets to stay down?” Mimi wanted to know.

“Callie’s going to sleep here.” He tapped the couch. “She’s frightened.”

“Of what?” Mimi could not imagine.

Ginger felt herself shivering even though it wasn’t cold. “Where’s Mom? Where’s Charlie?”

“Did Charlie break his other arm?” Mimi wanted to know. “Did he break his leg? That’s good, right, to break a leg?”

“This is nonsense,” Mr. Diggans barked, and Callie copied him, mimicking his gruff tone, “Nonsense, nonsense, nonsense.”

“Back upstairs,” Mr. Diggans shooed them. “Back to bed right now.”

Mimi didn’t want to sleep alone, so Ginger turned on her side and let her sister scoot into her bed. When Mimi started shooting questions, Ginger felt them like little darts on her back. “Do you think Charlie was scared when the hole caved in? Do you think his hair fell out? Do you think it went all white, like Cropsy?”

“Cropsy’s not real.”

“Mom says he is. Mom says Cropsy has white hair and chops up children who are bad. Is Cropsy real?” Mimi called to Mr. Diggans, who yelled back, “Be quiet.”

Ginger thought it made no sense for someone to yell, Be quiet, but she got quiet anyway, so she wouldn’t have to answer any more of Mimi’s questions.

Soon the sweet scent of cherry tobacco drifted into the room, Mr. Diggans puff-puff-puffing on his pipe. Ginger turned to Mimi and saw the whites of her eyes wink on and off like lightning bugs. A tear leaked out, and then another, until there was a line of tears traveling like a tiny river along her sister’s neat hairline.

“Why are you crying?” Ginger asked.

Mimi admitted, “I don’t know. But I’m allowed to cry here.” And they both turned as one to see if their window had shades.

After a few moments, when the scent of cherry tobacco faded—Mr. Diggans’ puffing had stopped—Mimi asked Ginger, “Wouldn’t Callie be less scared if she was sleeping with us?”

Ginger nodded and got out of bed. Together, they crept down the stairs.

They found Mr. Diggans asleep, head tipped back on the chair, pipe resting on a small dish he’d placed atop Glory’s puzzle, making a wreck of the Taj Mahal.

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