Whitewashed by Amy Blake

Whitewashed by Amy Blake

Author:Amy Blake [Blake, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781649170231
Publisher: Scrivenings Press LLC
Published: 2020-06-30T22:00:00+00:00


30

Patience

Hades, Mississippi, June 28, 2014

At midnight, once we’d salvaged every file we could, I looked around the workroom and up and down the hallway at the papers we hoped would dry overnight. My neck was stiff, and my head throbbed with every heartbeat. Dirk, Jason, and Lily Rose stood beside me looking equally dirty and exhausted. I dreaded coming in the next morning—a Saturday, for crying out loud—to work on them some more, but Bertha Jean said we had to.

“What a day.” Dirk blew out a breath. An oversized band-aid hid the teeth marks Chigger had left on his forearm. Apparently the nasty little dog didn’t appreciate being returned to his fussy owner. I’d nearly stepped in one of Chigger’s smelly presents that Honor had left for Moses to clean up.

I was furious over the way Honor treated Moses. Besides the dog poop, he blamed Moses for the whole sprinkler mess--though how sprinkler maintenance was Moses’ responsibility, I didn’t understand--and told Moses he had to stay and mop up the basement before he could go back to see Mabel. Honor didn’t care that the tornado upset Mabel so badly she’d been screaming for hours about the witch coming.

Moses wasn’t the only one Honor was cranky with. He and Dr. Vintner had shared a tense moment when the president told Vintner to take Simon home. Vintner’s face had turned purple at Honor’s words, “I’ve told you more than once that this is no place for a child.”

For a second, I’d been sure Vintner was going to blow up at Honor, but he’d backed down and taken Simon home. Though I couldn’t stand the way Honor treated Moses, I had to agree with him that Vintner needed to take better care of Simon.

Now, though I offered to stay and help mop up, Moses wouldn’t hear of it. He shooed me out the door with the others into the hot, dry night. The storm had produced little rain. Cracks still marred the earth.

I was drenched in sweat by the time I got home to Poppa. I showered off the grime, ate a snack, and settled down on the couch, certain I’d fall straight into a dead sleep. Instead, I tossed and rolled, my dreams filled with killer tornadoes, floods, and some vague evil that hovered over Verity. At 3 o’clock, I went to the kitchen for a glass of milk, hoping to soothe away the nightmares. I found Poppa sitting at the table, nursing his own glass.

“Couldn’t sleep, Pati-girl?”

“No, sir.” After pouring my milk, I sank into the seat beside him. “You feeling okay?”

He nodded. “Too much going in my mind tonight is all.”

My stomach tightened. “Like what?”

“Aw, the excitement of the tornado and those flooded files and such, I expect.”

I frowned, not certain he was telling me everything.

He grinned and patted my hand. “Don’t worry none, Pati-girl. Your old poppa ain’t completely lost his mind yet.”

I had to smile in return. Poppa was a brilliant man. When Alzheimer’s wasn’t twisting his mind, he had sound judgment.



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