Wreath by Judy Christie

Author:Judy Christie [Christie, Judy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-60742-516-8
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2011-10-26T04:00:00+00:00

Taking another quick look at the storefront, Wreath felt an intense feeling of satisfaction.

Mrs. Durham was right. The display made it look like a trendy store at a mall—the kind where someone might actually want to shop.

She tried to keep her thoughts focused on that as she tackled one of her least favorite parts of the day—walking home.

Occasionally she considered asking Faye for a ride. She had offered, after all. But Wreath figured it would open unwanted topics of conversation, such as where exactly she lived and why her relatives didn’t pick her up. As it was, the owner asked about her mother from time to time, and Wreath heaped untruth upon untruth.

Wreath vacillated between riding the red bicycle to school and, thus, having it to ride home, or taking the school bus, depending on what was going on at school and what kind of mood she was in.

When she rode the bus, she didn’t have to get up so early, and she got to visit with Law, something she looked forward to more than she cared to admit. The bus driver was nice, too, and Wreath liked being the first one picked up, having a moment when it was just her in the squeaky seats. The woman, whose long red hair got wilder by the day, always had a weather report and a comment on how Landry High was doing in football.

When Wreath took the bus, though, she dreaded the long trek home in the evening, especially now that it got dark earlier. She spent so much time looking over her shoulder that she had a near permanent crick in her neck.

Even after four months, she zigzagged on her way home, careful of becoming predictable. On rare days she would not think about Frankie, but her fear of Big Fun clung to her like the musty smell of her van.

Once, right before Frankie had gotten sick, her mother had cautioned her to take care around Big Fun until they could run away. “He’s not that good at keeping a steady job,” her mother had said, “but that man can sure hold a grudge. I never should have let on that I knew. I want you to be careful.”

Remembering the look on his face when the security guard sprayed him in the eyes, Wreath had no doubt about the staying power of Big Fun’s hatred for her.

The light tap of a car horn made her jump, and she was relieved when she saw it was Clarice, who appeared regularly on the days Wreath walked.

Wreath always acted like she could take or leave the offer of a ride, but inwardly she had started to breathe easier when she saw the lawyer.

She’d never realized how much time survival took, and by the time she walked home, she barely had time to check the junkyard for intruders, eat a bite of supper, do her homework, and get her clothes laid out for school.

Every other day or so, she went to the state park for a shower or to the library for a secret bath in the sink, which added considerably to her day.

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