The Ghosts of Now by Joan Lowery Nixon

Author:Joan Lowery Nixon
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9780307823540
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2013-09-24T21:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

The policeman says something to Mom. I can’t hear him. But Mom shuts the door and her voice is so high and taut that it throbs. “Angie? Where are you?”

Slowly, I manage to walk into the entry hall and stand slightly behind Mom. Unless I turn around no one will notice the bulge in the back hip pocket of my jeans. And if I take long, deep breaths, maybe no one will hear my heart pounding.

The officer takes off his cap, leaving an angry-looking red band across his balding forehead, and rubs an arm across his face, blotting up beads of sweat. There are large, wet stains under the arms of his shirt. “Hot out there,” he says.

“Oh.” Mom reacts politely on cue. “Would you like to sit down? Would you like some iced tea?”

“Thanks, I sure would like some tea,” he says. His glance skips around the entry hall and on into the living room. “I better not sit on y’all’s good chairs. I’ve just got a few questions to ask.”

“Angie,” Mom says. “Will you bring the officer a glass of tea, please?”

They both look at me, and I take a couple of steps backward.

“Angie?” Mom says. “Some iced tea, please.”

“Uh—sure,” I stammer, taking another couple of steps. “Right away.”

“Is there something wrong?” Mom asks.

Why couldn’t she concentrate on the policeman? “No,” I say. By this time I’m nearly at the entrance to the living room. In a couple of steps it will be safe to turn around.

Mom looks at me as though I’m creating problems, but the policeman concentrates on tugging a notebook from his shirt pocket. I make it out of the room. I shove the watch behind a stack of plates on the top kitchen shelf.

I bring back the iced tea, and the officer gulps it greedily, his head back, his cheeks puffing in and out with each swallow. Finally he gives a long sigh, hands the empty glass back to me, and turns to his notebook.

“Why do you need to know where Jeremy was going?” Mom asks.

“Just a matter for the record,” he says. “It just helps us to fill out our information.”

“I don’t know what his plans were,” Mom whispers, and she looks so lost that I hug her.

“Okay then,” he says. “Sorry to bother y’all.” He stuffs his notebook into his shirt pocket and turns toward the door. “Thanks for the iced tea.”

Mom closes the door and leans against it. “Angie, I can’t believe that I didn’t know where Jeremy would be that night.”

“It’s not your fault, Mom. I didn’t know either.”

She doesn’t move. She doesn’t answer. She looks so bewildered and vulnerable that I ache for her. So I add, “I’m finding out there’s lots about Jeremy I didn’t know, like his poetry.”

Mom raises her head and looks at me blankly. “He reads poetry?”

“He writes poetry.” I reach out a hand to her. “Come with me, Mom. I’ll show you a book of Jeremy’s poetry. It’s pretty good.”

I lead her into Jeremy’s room.

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.