Ask Anybody by Constance C. Greene

Author:Constance C. Greene
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media

13

A light, cold rain was falling Monday morning when Nell and I met at the bus stop.

“Where’s everybody?” I said. We were the only ones there. Tad had a cold and Sidney too. “Where’s your brothers?” I asked Nell.

“Down with nothing,” she said. “Watching TV all day long. She said they could stay home. She lets them get away with murder. Because they’re boys.” She shot a glance at me. “Mothers favor boys. I bet your mother does the same.”

“No,” I said truthfully. “She doesn’t.”

“Baloney. That’s your story. If it was me, I’d have to be dying before she’d let me stay home from school. She’s soft in the head when it comes to the boys. You can’t tell me your mother’s not the same.”

I could tell by Nell’s voice that this was one of her ornery days. Likely she’d contradict everything I said. She got like that.

I decided to change the subject. “Seems like spring will never come,” I said brightly. “Blink your eyes and you miss it entirely.”

“I’m hot.” Nell flapped her coat in the stiff breeze blowing from the harbor. “I’m boiling.” The gray sky hung down so low I was sure I could touch it, puncture it, bring down torrents on my head. The rain would turn to snow before long; the damp seeped into every opening it could find.

“I seen worse weather’n this plenty of times,” she said. “Why, where we lived before, we had blizzards that could make you cry out with the cold. Temperature was down around thirty below, stayed there all winter. This is nothing.”

“Winds get so strong around these parts,” I countered, “they make your eyeballs jangle, they’re so bitter.” When it comes to one-upmanship with the weather, I’m a pro. Maine people like to talk about the weather. We figure as long as we’re stuck with it, we might as well turn it into something to brag about—its awfulness, its severity. “I’ve seen storms,” I told Nell, “where it hails and snows, thunders and lightnings all at the same time.”

“All mothers are soft on boys.” Nell ignored the weather and took up where she’d left off. “They just naturally take to sons more’n daughters.” Her face was pinched and blue, and she stamped her feet in their raggedy sneakers to keep the blood going.

“My mother doesn’t,” I repeated.

“How would you know? She’s never around for you to find out.” When Nell was mean, her nose and chin got very pointed, almost like a witch’s, and her eyes glittered in a special way.

“That’s mean and it’s not true,” I said, trying to keep my voice under control. “I’d say you got out the wrong side of the bed this morning.” I turned my back on her. I didn’t have to listen to that guff.

“When I grow up”—Nell’s voice changed, became soft and almost dreamy—“I’m not having any kids. You won’t catch me being a mother. No siree.”

She had a way of saying something outlandish one minute, something meant to shock or

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.