Music Makers by Kate Wilhelm Read Free Book Online

inside and clean him up.” That meant that her parents and Nathan’s were already there, in the house. And they were due for a shock, she thought grimly. She reached for Joey’s hand and, with her holding one hand and Nathan the other, they walked the rest of the way to Grampa’s house.
    When they entered, Maribeth called from the living room, “Ashley, is that you? I’m glad you changed your mind.” She walked from the hall into the kitchen, stopped, staring, and then screamed.
    The others ran to the kitchen. Aunt Ella swayed, the color drained from her face, and Uncle Walt caught her and eased her into a chair. His face was livid, a tic jerked in his jaw, as he yelled at Nathan, “What abomination is this? Where did you get that child? What are you trying to do to us?”
    Ashley, still holding Joey’s hand, walked toward the bathroom, and both sets of parents moved aside hurriedly to let them pass. The voices rose behind them as she went into the bathroom with Joey and closed the door.
    She lifted him to the counter and looked inside a drawer for a washcloth and towel, then another drawer where there was soap. “We’ll clean up those scratches and see how many bandaids you’ll need. You could end up looking like a mummy, you know.”
    His smile was fleeting, but at least he wasn’t crying any more, she thought gratefully, conscious of his wariness, the intensity of his gaze as he watched her soap the washcloth.
    “Ashheap?” he said.
    She swung around to glare at him, baring her teeth, making a monster face. “You’re in for it,” she said. “Hanging out to dry time. You know what I said I’d do if you called me that again.”
    His grin was longer lasting this time. “You won’t catch me. You’re bleeding, too,” he said, pointing to her arm. He winced and drew back when she began to wash his face.
    “It was just like Sleeping Beauty’s wall of thorns to keep everyone out,” she said. “I guess a boy can be like a Sleeping Beauty, get magicked away for a long time.”
    “Why didn’t you come get me?”
    “Couldn’t find you,” she said. “I guess you were magicked into Magic Mountain, out of sight or something.” Gently she washed his arms and patted them dry. So far the scratches were minor, superficial. The voices from the other room rose and fell, rose even more. She ignored them and began to wash his legs.
    “So while you slept, Nathan and I grew up all the way, and then we found you again. How about that?”
    “I didn’t go to sleep,” he said, then yanked away from the washcloth. “That burns.”
    “Looks like mummy time coming up real soon now. Promise you won’t go around scaring anyone.”
    He grinned.
    She finished with his legs and began to search the cabinets for bandaids. There didn’t seem to be any. “Of course, if you’re all bandaged up, you probably can’t swim in the motel pool,” she said.
    “What motel pool?”
    “Where I’m staying. A great big pool out back, but I guess there are rules about bandages and mummies and stuff.”
    He was obviously torn between being a mummy and going swimming. He looked at his legs, then his arms, and shook his head. “Nothing’s bleeding.”
    A couple of the scratches were bleeding a little, but nothing a bandaid or two wouldn’t take care of, and she had bandaids in her cosmetic bag in the motel.
    Joey jumped down from the counter as if to demonstrate his fitness for swimming. He watched her wash and dry her own scratches, and afterward they walked together toward the clamorous voices in the living room, where an abrupt hush greeted then. Joey slipped his hand into Ashley’s and she gave him a reassuring squeeze. Maribeth and Aunt Ella were both pale, Ella shaking hard, and Uncle Walt’s face was fiery red. Ashley’s father, who looked more like a dock worker than an academic economist, was slightly removed from the others, watchful and wary. Every eye was fixed on Joey, but no one made a motion toward him or spoke