Bad Bones (Claire Morgan) by Linda Ladd Read Free Book Online

nose and found that it felt really good. He closed his eyes and pretended it was his ma he was kissing, that she was back down from Heaven, and all beautiful again with her white hair and pale skin. He wondered if she still looked so pretty underneath the dirt they had shoveled in on top of that plain pine box they’d put her in. He’d like to know that. He wondered if he was strong enough to dig her up and see how she was doing down there all alone. Maybe he would someday. Yeah, he sure would. She was probably awfully lonely, even if she was still sleeping so peacefully while her soul went up to be with God.
    After he had licked the dog all over her pretty little head and velvety ears, his nose finally stopped bleeding and he fell fast asleep. He slept for a long time, snuggling closer to the dogs. But then around dawn he was startled awake when his oldest brother came inside the barn. He was tall and strong and had a little beard. He was standing in the middle of the barn and looking into the dog pen at Punk. “You ain’t supposed to get no food today, got that, Punk? Pa said no food, no water, and you stay right where you are till he comes gets you out. And you better not, or he’ll whup you. He’ll whup you good.”
    Punk didn’t say a word. His pa would whup him all right. His whip was hanging right there beside the loft steps, handy for when it was time for him to beat the killer dogs. He knew that from the last time he lost a fight. But he was relieved his big brother didn’t drag him out and throw him in the creek to wash off the dirt and sweat and the stink of the dogs. The water was spring fed, and so icy cold that he could barely stand to put his hand in it. Even now, in late August, it was that cold.
    Still tensed with dread, he watched the bigger boy move down to the other end of the barn where his pa kept the Rottweilers and pit bulls. Pa usually made his oldest boy tie them up to a post every morning on a very short leash and whip them to make them mean. Punk couldn’t stand to see that whip hit those poor animals or hear their yelps of pain and fear, so he quickly pushed his way out of the plastic dog door and into the cool morning air. Banjo came outside with him, and they snuggled up together using the lean-to shelter that shielded them from the hot sun.
    They stayed there, huddled together for a time, dozing and keeping each other company. Then Punk began to feel so hungry that he could barely stand it. His stomach was growling so much that he could hear it, and Banjo perked up her ears and cocked her head at the sound it made. He peeked out to see if Pa was around anywhere, and then he crawled back inside the barn and grabbed two handfuls of dog food that his brother had poured into the feeding dishes. He took it back to the shelter and shared the food with Banjo. When he got thirsty, he dipped water out of the trough the dogs used. Back inside the shelter, he fell asleep again, glad that nobody was bothering him.
    “Hey, you, Punk, come on over here,” came a loud whisper from outside the fence.
    Punk’s muscles tensed up, but then he saw that it was his twin brother. Pa called him Bone Breaker now. He had a big flaky biscuit and a red apple in his hands. “C’mon out, before I get caught, would ya? I stole you some breakfast. Hurry it up, c’mon! Pa’s gonna see me!”
    Punk looked around for his pa, but he was nowhere to be seen. He scrambled out and grabbed the apple through the holes in the fence and took a giant bite. He ate it as fast as he could.
    “How’s that nose feel? You oughta see it. It’s all swollen up and black and busted up good, and you know that your eyes are black as old Midnight, don’t ya?”
    Old Midnight was his pa’s favorite pony, a beautiful and sleek animal that nobody got to ride except for Pa. “I figured I was messed up. I can’t hardly see nothin’ this mornin’. Everythin’s all blurry, and stuff.”
    “Here’s some salve and stuff that Pa puts