Linked Through Time

Linked Through Time by Jessica Tornese Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: Linked Through Time by Jessica Tornese Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jessica Tornese
you’re making Mom crazy and I won’t stand for it.”
    Sitting in the stock tank, the water up to my shoulders, I processed the new information . I couldn’t bathe until Saturday? I waited until Rodney walked away before climbing from the giant barrel. Wringing my shirt onto the grass, I shivered in the warm afternoon sun. Everything seemed so… raw and primitive. I wished I had paid more attention to my dad’s stories about when he was a kid. I always thought he’d been exaggerating about not having water or shoes or a bathroom. Parents always told stories about how their life was harder, but I was beginning to realize how true the stories were.
    Tripping across the drive in my soggy clothes I steered clear from Rodney, who was now tinkering under the hood of the family car. “Note to self, stay on Rodney’s good side,” I mumbled, intimidated by his brute strength and power.
    “Pssst…” A voice hissed from under the criss-crossed limbs of apple trees in the farmyard. I turned to see Dean, my father…. er, brother. “What’s up Da… Dean?” I called to the boy hidden behind the many twisted trunks.
    His thin face peeked out, shy and sincere. “I just wanted to say thanks, you know, for giving me the extra bread at dinner. Matthew and Patrick are always stealing my food,” he complained. “I know things have been bad for you lately, and since the accident, well… I just wanted to let you know I can help you if you need it.” My father’s expression was genuine and heartfelt, so understanding for such a little kid.
    I bit the inside of my cheek to keep back the tears that pricked the corners of my eyes. Here was my dad, a skinny little eight-year-old that could be blown away in a strong wind, and he was offering to help me . It was the first time I felt accepted instead of criticized and I found it hard to swallow past the lump that had formed in my throat. Tentatively, I reached out my arms, aching to protect the boy that was my father. Dean sprung into my arms and buried his face into my damp shirt.
    Pushing him away to arm’s length, I was surprised to find some sort of mothering instinct take root in my  heart, despite the fact I’d been annoyed and fighting with my adult father for years. For some reason, seeing the way he lived as a child, his hardships, and the way he had to scrape to get by hit me like a punch to the stomach. “Let’s make a pact then,” I said. “If you help me, then I’ll help you. I’ll make sure Matthew and Patrick leave you alone,” I promised.
    The moment ended too soon, and Dean was clambering over the fence, racing to the barn.
    I watched him run, trying to remember the last time I had hugged my dad without having an ulterior motive, like needing money or a ride somewhere. Sadly, I couldn’t think of any instance at all.
     
    * * * *
     
    All afternoon, I crawled on my hands and knees through the potato field. The only thing keeping me sane was the promise of my first date with Dave. I sighed. He was so much better looking than anyone at my high school. I wished my friends could see me, see him . They’d never believe I scored a guy like Dave in a million years.
    Finally, the sun moved down in the sky, casting a soft glow through the rows of trees that bordered the fields. Following Louise along the dirt path to the farmhouse, I counted the rows I had weeded. Seven. Louise had done ten. I knew I would have to step things up if I didn’t want to get in more trouble with Rodney. Problem was, I was going as fast as I could. It’s not like I had done this before.
    Jostling bodies squeezed into the screen room, some removing coveralls and boots, others stopping to drink from a ladle that rested inside a bucket placed on the porch windowsill. I licked my dry sunburned lips and reached for a drink. I scooped the last of the water from the bucket and dropped the ladle back in with a thud.
    “Last one to finish has to refill it,” quoted Janice smugly.
    I resisted

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