Clover by Dori Sanders Read Free Book Online Page B

I don’t care if Lucille’s getup was unlike anything you’d ever seen. It still made all the menfolk look at her. And that made the womenfolk kind of jealous. I think it’s because of her walk, not her dancing. Lucille’s walk is a swaying motion, her soft, curvy hips move under her skirt. I wouldn’t mind having her shape when I grow up.
    It’s too bad Lottie Jean has gone home with the new camera she got with her S&H green stamps. I wish she could have taken Lucille’s picture.

4
    Sara Kate has made Cream of Wheat for breakfast every day this week. She loaded us up with every flavor they made. I still like cinnamon apple the best.
    On the back of the package there is a doodle. An easy way to draw an elephant is shown. You can do it even if you can’t draw a straight line.
    At the peach stand I follow the directions and draw a perfect elephant. I hide it behind my back when Everleen wants to see what I’ve done. If she sees it I’ll be drawing elephants for the rest of my life. It will make her think I’m gifted and talented. I sure hate that they put that in people’s minds about little kids. They never let you play anymore.
    I like the man’s picture on the Cream of Wheat box. He looks just like my grandpa. I guess my grandpa is still roaming around looking for that mansion in the sky they said he was going to go to. If he finds it I’m sure he’ll get a roomfor me. That is, if there is any truth to that. I’m not so sure about that thing.
    Everleen tells Daniel to put down the terrapin he’s turning over and over in his hand. “If he bites you, he won’t turn you loose until it thunders,” she says, looking up at the cloudless sky. Daniel throws the terrapin down.
    My uncle tells me to stack empty peach baskets. I hate to, I always hurt my hand. But I do it. Jim Ed is so worried about this peach crop I don’t want to put another frown on his face. It wouldn’t have any place to go, anyhow. His face is all filled up.
    A late spring freeze caused the peaches to have split-seeds. That means that once the seed of a peach freezes, the peach will split wide open as soon as it starts to get ripe. When customers complain about the way the peaches look, Aunt Everleen will tell them right quick, “That’s the Lord’s work.”
    It’s a real slow day at the stand. Everleen jumps to her feet when a brand new pickup truck pulls up. “I see you have Elberta peaches on your sign,” the man says.
    â€œYes, we do,” Everleen brags. “It’s the finest canning peach there is. Del Monte cans Elbertas. Says so right on the can.”
    â€œOh, I was just wanting some to eat,” the customer says.
    â€œIt’s the finest eating peach there is,” Everleen put in quickly. She rubs one on her big fluffy shirt, and takes a big bite. “This is truly the best peach I ever tasted.”
    She stuffs the money he gives her into her pocket. He is a physicist down at the nuclear plant. I put his peck of peaches in his truck.
    Everleen is reading the newspaper. “Just listen to this,” she says. “This little girl is not even nine years old, and she’s . . .” She didn’t have to finish telling me. I know it’s a story about some little girl doing something great. My aunt has never forgotten that Samantha Smith of Maine was invited to Russia because of a letter she wrote.
    Everleen thinks if I write Mrs. Reagan I might get invited to the White House. We’ve been too busy with my spelling, though.
    I go and get the dictionary out of the truck before she tells me to. She makes me spell five pages a day, winter or summer. “I think I’m going to have you do your C’s again, Clover. You seem to have had a hard time with them.” I believe I had a hard time spelling them because she had a hard time saying them. “If a C you should espy,” I chant, “place