Every Living Thing by Cynthia Rylant Read Free Book Online Page A

somewhere around him that he thought maybe he was going crazy. His heart hurt him. He wondered if he would ever get better.
    And though he denied it, he did hate Esther. She was so different from his mother and father. Prejudiced—she admired only those who were white and Presbyterian. Selfish—she wouldn’t allow him to use her phone. Complaining—she always had a headache or a backache or a stomachache.
    He didn’t want to, but he hated her. And he didn’t know what to do except lie about it.
    Michael hadn’t made any friends at his new school, and his teachers barely noticed him. He came home alone every day and usually found Esther on the phone. She kept in close touch with several other women in nearby condominiums.
    Esther told her friends she didn’t understand Michael. She said she knew he must grieve for his parents, but why punish her? She said she thought she might send him away if he couldn’t be nicer. She said she didn’t deserve this.
    But when Michael came in the door, she always quickly changed the subject.
    One day after school Michael came home with a hermit crab. He had gone into a pet store, looking for some small living thing, and hermit crabs were selling for just a few dollars. He’d bought one, and a bowl.
    Esther, for a change, was not on the phone when he arrived home. She was having tea and a crescent roll and seemed cheerful. Michael wanted badly to show someone what he had bought. So he showed her.
    Esther surprised him. She picked up the shelland poked the long, shiny nail of her little finger at the crab’s claws.
    â€œWhere is he?” she asked.
    Michael showed her the crab’s eyes peering through the small opening of the shell.
    â€œWell, for heaven’s sake, come out of there!” she said to the crab, and she turned the shell upside down and shook it.
    â€œAunt Esther!” Michael grabbed for the shell.
    â€œAll right, all right.” She turned it right side up. “Well,” she said, “what does he do?”
    Michael grinned and shrugged his shoulders.
    â€œI don’t know,” he answered. “Just grows, I guess.”
    His aunt looked at him.
    â€œAn attraction to a crab is something I cannot identify with. However, it’s fine with me if you keep him, as long as I can be assured he won’t grow out of that bowl.” She gave him a hard stare.
    â€œHe won’t,” Michael answered. “I promise.”
    The hermit crab moved into the condominium. Michael named him Sluggo and kept the bowl beside his bed. Michael had to watch the bowl for very long periods of time to catch Sluggo with his head poking out of his shell, moving around. Bedtime seemed to be Sluggo’sliveliest part of the day, and Michael found it easy to lie and watch the busy crab as sleep slowly came on.
    One day Michael arrived home to find Esther sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at the bowl. Esther usually did not intrude in Michael’s room, and seeing her there disturbed him. But he stood at the doorway and said nothing.
    Esther seemed perfectly comfortable, although she looked over at him with a frown on her face.
    â€œI think he needs a companion,” she said.
    â€œWhat?” Michael’s eyebrows went up as his jaw dropped down.
    Esther sniffed.
    â€œI think Sluggo needs a girl friend.” She stood up. “Where is that pet store?”
    Michael took her. In the store was a huge tank full of hermit crabs.
    â€œOh my!” Esther grabbed the rim of the tank and craned her neck over the side. “Look at them!”
    Michael was looking more at his Aunt Esther than at the crabs. He couldn’t believe it.
    â€œOh, look at those shells. You say they grow out of them? We must stock up with severalsizes. See the pink in that one? Michael, look! He’s got his little head out!”
    Esther was so dramatic—leaning into the tank, her bangle bracelets clanking, earrings