Bethany Caleb by Kate Spofford Read Free Book Online

slashed every canvas that was fake. She crammed as much as she could in her wastebasket and brought the mutilated canvases outside. She had to make several trips, but finally she had the whole pile in the middle of the backyard. She found a can of gasoline in the garage and some matches. Then she lit the whole pile on fire.
    The blaze had cast red light on the landscaping. The backyard had a tiled walkway and stone benches and a birdbath, and wildflowers had been carefully planted to look wild. The blaze lit up the wilted, frozen flowers.
    The heat made her back up only a little. The fire hypnotized her: she watched well-memorized paintings curl and blacken into unrecognizable pulp. The stretcher boards kept the fire going. Occasionally she tossed a glug of gasoline into the fire to see it blaze up higher.
    “Hey! Hey!”
    Bethany slowly turned to see who was calling. It was her neighbor, Mr. Wilkins.
    “Hey! What the hell are you doing?” Mr. Wilkins yelled, coming into the backyard from the driveway.
    “I’m just burning some stuff,” Bethany said.
    “You can’t do that! You have to have a permit to burn things like that,” he said, now close enough for Bethany to see that his face looked more scared than angry. “Where are your parents? Did they let you do this?”
    “They’re out for the evening,” she said.
    Mr. Wilkins looked around behind him, then stalked over and pulled out the garden hose. “Someone might think your house was on fire with this much smoke going up,” he yelled over the water gushing out of the hose.
    Silently Bethany watched the water spray down the fire. The once alive canvases wilted and dripped. The bright pile became black and dead. Now Bethany could see that a patch of brown grass was scorched.
    “You’re lucky I saw you. Someone could have called the police. I think you’d better clear this up before your parents see. I know your mother won’t be too happy about this mess.”
    As Mr. Wilkins left, Bethany noticed he was barefoot, wearing silk pajamas and a flannel robe. She turned back to the mess and giggled.
    Bethany had been grounded for the damage done to the backyard, as well as the empty bottle of Peach Schnapps she had drunk before deciding to destroy all of her paintings. “No TV, no internet, no friends,” Mrs. Caleb had said. She didn’t know that Bethany hardly ever watched TV and had no friends. And Mrs. Caleb wasn’t around in the afternoons, when Bethany usually checked her email. She also wasn’t around in the mornings. The punishment was a joke.
    The email from Jana was short, saying simply, “How are things back at Middlebury? I joined the drama club and I’m going to be in the fall play, a singing part. Who would’ve thought?”
    Bethany couldn’t think of anything to write back to Jana. “I’m so frustrated with school that I’m bringing in a gun tomorrow”? Jana probably still thought Bethany was a geek. It seemed pointless to keep up her friendship with Jana since she would probably never see Jana again. Instead of replying, she had deleted Jana’s email. Now there were no emails in her inbox. No one had written to her in a long time.
    “Caleb! Your turn to bat!” Mr. Wheaton called. Bethany snapped out of her thoughts and trudged over to home plate. She’d hoped that being last in the batting order would mean she never had to go up.
    Three times Mr. Wheaton pitched the ball to her and three times she missed. Each swing brought a torrent of giggles from Caitlyn and her friends. “You’re doing good, Caleb,” Mr. Wheaton called to her. “Here, let’s try a couple more.”
    The last thing Bethany wanted was to try a couple more. But she swung and missed a couple more times anyway, then Mr. Wheaton let her go sit down.
    Now it was Ben Simms’s turn to bat. He spat at the ground at her feet as he passed her. “Nice job,” he said sarcastically.
    Nick Lorden on first base heard that comment and repeated, “Yeah, nice job, Caleb! My