Molly's Promise by Sylvia Olsen Read Free Book Online Page B

Grandma said. She was pushing the chairs together, cramming in as many as possible. “It’s a fine-looking venue for your first performance, don’t you think?”
    It was too late for Molly. As her dad often said, the cat was out of the bag. Once Murphy became her manager, she didn’t have much say in what happened. Her dad had heard her sing, Murphy had heard her sing, and now the boys would hear her sing, along with, from the looks of it, everyone else from the reserve that Grandma could stuff into her “venue.”
    â€œIt looks fine, Grandma,” Molly said.
    She thought about her promise. She had to remind herself that it was okay to sing for everyone because one day her mom would come home and she would still have a gift for her.
    Grandma greeted people at the door. “Help yourself to something to eat,” she said. “Then grab a chair. This is a sold-out show.”
    People jostled around the crowded room.
    Molly plunked herself on the corner of the stage. Murphy sat beside her. “I didn’t know she was going to do all this, Moll. Really, I didn’t,” he said, his mouth full of bread. “But it’s ideal.”
    â€œIt’s not ideal, it’s terrifying,” Molly said. “And don’t chew with your mouth full. It’s gross.”
    â€œWell, this is the biggest audience we’re going to get,” Murphy said. He swallowed hard and said, “For now.”
    â€œDon’t get any other crazy ideas,” Molly said. “I’m doing this for Grandma and that’s it.”
    Murphy stuffed more bread into his mouth. “We could use the Chief Morris Community Hall. Grandma could ask them,” he said.
    â€œJust stop now, Murph,” Molly said. “This is getting to be too much for me. And I’m telling you, I don’t want to see the food in your mouth.”
    â€œWe’re ready to start,” Grandma said. “Put some food on your plates and sit down.”
    The cramps in Molly’s belly and the thudding sound in her head reminded her that she had no choice. The people were there to hear her.
    Grandma put her fingers in her mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle. Within a few seconds, the noise had subsided and it was perfectly quiet.
    â€œNow I have your attention,” Grandma said. “If you can’t find a seat, lean against the wall. You are in for the performance of your life.” Grandma edged her way through the maze of chairs to the stage and climbed onto it. “We’ve done a lot of things in this living room, but this is the first concert.”
    Molly looked nervously around the room. There were people she recognized and some she had never seen before. She spotted a small woman with red hair and pale skin at the back of the room, half hidden behind other latecomers. Molly’s stomach clenched. The woman didn’t look First Nations. Molly thought of her own light hair and pale skin. She thought about how short she was compared to the other girls in grade seven. The lump in her stomach got caught in her throat when she tried to breathe. Maybe today was the day she would sing for her mom. But it wasn’t the right time for that. There were too many people here.
    â€œHey, Gloria.” Grandma pointed at the woman. “Don’t hide there in the back. Come right up here. There’s one more chair.”
    Molly’s stomach churned.
    â€œWow,” Murphy said. “Danny’s mom. I never thought she’d come.”
    Molly’s body felt weak. It almost hurt. Then she realized her dad wasn’t there. Why hadn’t he shown up?
    â€œWe are ready, Molly, my girl,” Grandma said.
    Molly was limp. Her head felt like it was floating above her shoulders. Her voice was trapped in her throat. All she could hear inside her head was a dull thudding behind her ears. There was no music.
    She pulled herself up onto the stage next to Grandma and looked