Dark Water Rising by Marian Hale Read Free Book Online Page A

earlier Friday morning, and when the alarm sounded, I jumped to turn it off. Lucas groaned, and Matt muttered, “Can’t you put a pillow over that thing?”
    “Go back to sleep,” I whispered, jerking on my pants. I carried my best work shirt downstairs with me, washed up outside, and took extra care in combing my hair. There was a good chance I’d run into Ella Rose again this morning.
    I headed for the kitchen to pack my noon meal and found Mama wrist-deep in bread dough. There’d be six brown loaves sitting on the stove when I came in this evening. She tilted her big bowl, turned the pale mound onto the floured table, and began the rhythmic push and fold of kneading. Kate, feet still bare, danced back and forth on the wood floor behind her.
    “Would you take her to the outhouse before you go, Seth, so I can finish up this bread?”
    I groaned. Didn’t she know I had a real job, now, like Papa?
    “Mama,” I said, “I can’t keep doing this. I’m not a kid anymore.”
    She paused slightly in her rhythm, and without ever looking up, said simply, “I know, Seth.”
    I stared at her, waiting for something more, some glimpse of understanding. When it didn’t come, I grabbed Kate’s hand, pulled her to the door and down the stairs. By the time I got back in, Mama had finished her kneading and was packing my dinner. She smiled her thanks, but I was too irritated to smile back. Things would never change around here, and I had to face that fact. She and Papa might never see me as a grown man, no matter what I did. Without a word, I grabbed up my dinner and headed for the door.
    The still-dark sky looked clear but felt unusually warm and humid when I left. I wasn’t two minutesdown the road before I was wiping sweat from my face and swatting mosquitoes. The bit of rain left in the gutters from Tuesday night’s storm had spawned some mean little devils, and they all seemed to have a rabid appetite for my neck.
    The sun was up when I got to Ursuline Academy, but I saw no sign of Ella Rose. I stood waiting, my shirt streaked with sweat and my handkerchief grimy. After a short while, I finally saw her halfway down the block and ran to meet her.
    I must’ve looked a mess by the time I caught up with her. She took one look at my sweaty face, laughed, and pulled a lace-trimmed handkerchief from her sleeve.
    I stared at the embroidered initials in the corner, about to refuse her offer, but found myself reaching for it anyway, sliding it across my forehead and my upper lip. It smelled sweet, like lilacs. I started to hand it back to her, then saw what I’d done to her fresh handkerchief. My cheeks flushed hot.
    “Keep it,” she said, pulling out a second one. “You might need it later.” She patted at the moisture beading on her own forehead and neck, then laughed at the sullied cloth. “Where does all this grime come from?”
    I shrugged, smiling at the effortless way she’d set me at ease.
    She glanced over at the academy and sighed. “I have to go.”
    “See you tomorrow?” I asked.
    She nodded, waved, and headed for school.
    I tucked the handkerchief into my pocket and went on to work. Since I’d started out early, I was at the site long before anyone else. I climbed to the newly finished gallery on the last house, then up to the roof where Frank and Charlie had begun shingling yesterday evening.
    I could see the whole city from up there, and recognized a lot of the buildings that Uncle Nate had pointed out on our trip from the train station. St. Patrick’s Catholic Church, with its spires still under construction, and Bath Avenue School. The Levy Building on Market and the Tremont Hotel. The twin towers of St. Mary’s Cathedral and, of course, the thousands of gray slate roofs.
    I turned and looked east, following the curve of the beach toward Bolivar Roads, the great deepwater channel at the end of the island. A large freighter had just emerged from Galveston Bay, making its way through the Roads. The