Bird Lake Moon by Kevin Henkes Read Free Book Online

care one whit; she shrugged and skipped away.
    â€œGood boy,” said Spencer. “And always remember to stay clear of the freak posing as my sister.” He was talking loud enough for his father to hear, and he did so in a sulky voice.
    â€œWe’ll be swimming in a few minutes, Spence,” said his father. “Don’t sweat it.”
    â€œWhatever,” Spencer mumbled, his chin tucked into his neck. He was in such a hurry and he was so angry, he didn’t notice it at first. He thudded bitterly onto the little front porch and it suddenly appeared before his eyes.
    It.
    What was it?
    It was some kind of design. Geometric. Oval shaped. And there was a number twelve, too. Right there. On the floor of the stoop. Drawn in what appeared to be sugar. And he was certain that it hadn’t been there when they’d left for the general store. One of them— all of them—would have seen it.
    â€œHey, Dad—” Spencer began, but stopped.
    It wasn’t a geometric design; it was a turtle. The back of a turtle. Like Matty’s turtle. And the twelve? Spencer suddenly remembered that Matty would be twelve if he were alive.
    A shiver went through Spencer and wouldn’t go away, as if a ribbon of ice had been tied to his spine.
    He’d only seen the turtle for a second or two before Jasper padded all over it, excited, eager to get his treat.
    â€œSit,” Spencer commanded. And Jasper did, but his tail swished, back and forth, ruining what was left of the turtle and the twelve. Then Jasper went wild, licking up the tiny white crystals until there was nothing left on the porch floor except a dead bee.
    Gone. Here and gone, just like that.
    Spencer’s heart pitched. Had he just received some strange message from his dead brother?
    â€œHey, Spencer,” his father said, coming near, his arms encircling three bags of groceries, “I thought you were in a blazing heat to go swimming. Now you look like a statue.”
    â€œOh, yeah, sorry,” he managed to reply, daunted by what had just happened, what he had just seen.
    â€œAre you having trouble with the lock?”
    â€œYeah. No. I mean, it’s fine.” He quickly unlocked the door, held it open for his father, then went to lug the remaining groceries from the car to the house.
    Shortly afterward, Spencer was swimming—they all were, even his mother—but some of the anticipated pleasure had been drained from the experience. Repeatedly his thoughts returned to Matty and the sign, or whatever it was, that had appeared on the porch.
    There were moments when the joy of slicing through the water or playing Marco Polo or cheering for Jasper as he dog-paddled after a thrown stick fully absorbed Spencer’s attention, but invariably he’d pause and lift his head, eyes darting about, perceiving a voltage in the air. Matty? And hadn’t he thought that he was being watched last night when they were down at the lake? Had that been Matty as well? Spencer felt more aware than usual, as if something of a spell were upon him and he’d acquired another sense.
    Both Spencer and Lolly were good swimmers. Learning to swim—to swim well —was something their parents insisted on. Spencer was stronger than Lolly, and faster, but Lolly was not far behind and loved to race her brother. Spencer dreaded the day that she could beat him. He hoped beyond hope that it would never arrive.
    After one too many games of Marco Polo, Spencer’s parents retreated to the tiny, sandy patch of shoreline partially framed by tall weeds and sat side by side, hand in hand.
    â€œThey look like giant children in a sandbox,” Lolly observed. She laughed, a high-pitched titter, obviously pleased with her remark. She was using a new voice. To Spencer, it sounded chirpy and mechanical. “Do you know who I am?” she asked.
    â€œNot really.”
    â€œI’m Birdy Lake. Get it?”
    â€œDuh. Not