Anybody Shining by Frances O'Roark Dowell Read Free Book Online Page A

work on account of the Sabbath, but they were not churchgoing. They could dance and play music to their hearts’ content. Mama says she wishes she had been Baptist from the minute she was born, because then she would never have gotten the love of dancing in her and she would not have to try so hard to get it out.
    â€œHow you get to be a Catholic?” she asked Miss Pittman out on the porch this morning. “They let any sort of folks do it?”
    â€œYes, but I believe the closest Catholic church in these parts is in Asheville,” Miss Pittman informed her. “Perhaps you should try the Methodist Church over in Spruce Pine.”
    Mama sighed. You could tell she weren’t going to give up being Baptist, even if the popeoffered to take her out dancing every Saturday night.
    â€œSo do you think you would sing if Mr. Sparks played?” Miss Pittman asked again. “Perhaps the whole family could join you.”
    Mama’s eyes sparked, and I knowed she was pondering whether or not she could convince Daddy to let her sing at the school. Mama loves to sing better than she loves to dance even, and singing for a crowd of folks is her idea of standing in high cotton.
    Just then Harlan walked up from the barn, where he’d been helping James muck Old Dan’s stall. “I’ll sing. I’m the best singer you’uns probably ever heard.”
    Harlan sung about as well as a cat caught in a paper bag screeching to get out. Given this particular falsehood, I should have knowed he was capable of others.
    â€œTell Miss Pittman about the ghost that nearly strangled you,” I urged. “She never believes me when I tell her about the ghosts in these parts.”
    The tips of Harlan’s ears turned red. “Ah, she don’t want to hear about no ghosts. Grown-up ladies ain’t interested in them kind of things.”
    â€œOn the contrary,” Miss Pittman said, leaning toward Harlan. “I am riveted by such tales.”
    Well, by the time Harlan had tripped over his own tongue, mixing up the story so bad nobody who had actually been there would have recognized it, it was clear to Miss Pittman and everybody else that the whole thing had been a scandalous deception.
    â€œYou ain’t right,” I told Harlan. “You and James are the worst two boys I know.”
    â€œAh, we ain’t so bad,” Harlan said with a grin. “We just like a little fun, is all.”

    I would have been madder at him than I was, but for the fact that I have made up some ghost stories myself once or twice. Between you and me, Cousin Caroline, I ain’t actually ever seen old Sam and Joe who Daddy says lives in our barn. I don’t think James haseither, but we both talk about it like we have. In fact, we may have convinced each other that them haints exist even though we know they probably don’t.
    At least I don’t think they do.
    Do you like ghost stories, Cousin Caroline? Because I know several that will send the shivers up and down your spine. Just the minute you write me back, I will tell them to you.
    Signed,
    Your Cousin,
    Arie Mae Sparks

Dear Cousin Caroline,
    You are not to breathe a word of what I am about to tell you! Today I snuck down to the settlement school so I could get better acquainted with them Baltimore, Maryland, children. I just had to go, is the thing. Why, I can barely sleep at night knowing them children is right down the mountain from where I lay, just waiting to be my friends.
    It is easy enough to get to the settlement school from our home place. You follow the path that rambles alongside Cane Creek on its way to the river. It’s been fairly trampled downever since they built the post office next to the train station last year. Anybody looking for something to do will say, “I’m off to see what the news is,” and head for the post office, where Miss Ellie Mize sorts letters and packages and collects the gossip. If you want