Blood Secret by Kathryn Lasky Read Free Book Online Page B

someone else might break its spell. The amber would bleed out of the light. Bicycles would look just like bicycles and tubs like tubs. “Come on.” Sinta gave her shoulder a tap.
    They went down into the cellar with Jerry carrying the flashlight. “Lot of stuff down here,” Sinta said as they reached the last step. “Guess by the time you’re as old as your aunt, you’ve accumulated a lot.”
    Jerry found the sewing machine immediately. She beckoned with her flashlight.
    “Here it is!” Sinta said. “Oh, look, it’s absolutely coated in dust. We should clean it off before we take it upstairs.”
    Jerry panicked. She already thought of the cellar as her place. “No!” The word popped out.
    Sinta looked up. “Jerry, you spoke.” Jerry nodded. Her mouth tried to move around a few words, but no sound came. “One? Two? Is that what you’re saying?” Sinta asked. Jerry nodded. “One or two words, is that what you mean? You’ve spoken a few words?” Jerry nodded again and walked over to where Sinta stood by the machine. It wasn’t that heavy.
    Just before they left the cellar, Jerry turned to look for the spiderweb. It was still there. It looked quite ordinary now, but the beetle was gone.
    Jerry and Sinta took the sewing machine upstairs and directly into the cook yard. Jerry went to get some dust cloths.
    “I think we’re going to need some oil,” Sinta said when Jerry came back. “The wheel is sort of stiff.”
    A half hour later the machine was cleaned and oiled. They had just begun to thread it. Jerry reached for the pieces of the skirt that she had cut out. She had already pinned them together. They were ready to stitch. She slipped the two pieces in. “I wish I had done a straight skirt instead of a blouse. It would be so much simpler,” Sinta said.
    Jerry began to pump the treadle. The needle dropped down into the cloth. She gently pushed the cloth on the small plate under the foot that clamped the needle. “Oh, look what a nice stitch.” Sinta spoke softly. “And you can go just at your own speed. This is so much easier.”
    The weather was warm and they had actually set up the sewing machine on the porch that stretched across the back of the house. Instead of a railing at the edge, there was a low adobe wall on which Constanza had set scores of flowerpots. Some grew herbs; some dropped silvery green vines over the edge that hung like lace; some had bright red geraniums. On top of the wall and in niches were Constanza’s souvenirs that had either somehow mysteriously arrived in her yard or she had pickedup while traveling about delivering bread. There was an iron piece that looked like a fish skeleton, but Jerry thought might be a long-handled cooking instrument for use in a fire. There was part of a cow’s skull and the bones from what looked like a bird’s wing that Constanza had arranged in a pretty design. There was also a little terra-cotta figure of the Virgin Mary. There were in fact many of the small wooden carved figures of saints called bultos .
    Jerry had nearly finished the seams on her skirt and Sinta was trying to set in the sleeve on one side of her blouse. “I wish I could get this sleeve to not puff up so much at the shoulder. I don’t want to look like a football player.”
    Just at that moment Constanza came out with a pitcher of lemonade and some pine-nut cookies fresh from the range. She set down the tray. “Let me look at it,” she said, holding out her hands for the blouse Sinta was working on. She spread it out on the table and unpinned the sleeve. “Will you let me make a few little slits in the edges here where the sleeve joins the shoulder hole? That will make it set better.”
    “Sure,” said Sinta.
    The long, knobby fingers began to snip and pin.“It’s just like crimping a pie crust,” Constanza said, and handed it back to Sinta.
    “Oh, thank you so much.” Sinta paused. “I asked Jerry if she wanted to go to the movies with me tonight, but I