Praefatio: A Novel by Georgia McBride Read Free Book Online

somehow managed to resolve it. Truth is, old Mr. Johnson never really actually resolved anything. He was pretty much like Solomon. He presented the squabblers with options that either scared them to death or made them feel like complete idiots.
    Back to Mom and the bike, or Dad and Christmas. Mom would never have allowed Dad to give me such an extravagant gift if she had known about it beforehand. “It was just like Gabe to keep that a secret; he knew I wouldn’t approve,” she would say. She didn’t like to see me giddy. Instead, she would have come up with some garbage like, “She has to learn sacrifice, Gabe.” Right, Mom, because growing up with an absentee mother isn’t sacrifice enough.
    ***
    I shifted in the metal chair, knowing full well that Mom was on the other side of the mirror, listening to my every word with a raised judgmental eyebrow and a scowl.
    ***
    After pancakes, I went straight to the tree and began destroying the wrapping paper on the gifts Dad had tried so hard to keep a surprise. Just as I reached the bottom of the tree and spied my new CD player, the doorbell rang.
    “Gracie, I think maybe you should get that. It could be for you,” Dad teased. I squealed and ran to the door, visions of something too big for Dad to hide at the house dancing in my head. A pony, maybe? Had to be a pony.
    Reality smacked me in the face the minute I opened the door. My heart dropped to my belly as I skidded to a stop. My mouth fell open in shock as I laid wide and bewildered eyes on the anti-gift. Mom was there, smiling and shoving a real live boy inside the doorframe—and he stank.
    Maybe it was one of those “real” babies they advertise on TV—the ones that cry, poop, and pee in their diapers , I thought. Only this one was toddler-sized, about two years old, and definitely had the pooping thing down. I couldn’t imagine what he could be doing with Mom, my mom. Then I figured maybe it was one of those Save the Children kids, and we were gonna sponsor him for a week and send him away. I took a step back, slowly, inside the house where it was safe, warm, and the spirit of Christmas was still alive.
    “Sweetheart,” my dad said. “Give your mother and brother a hug.”
    He’d done it again. First Dad told me there was no Easter Bunny, then no Santa Claus. Now he was trying to pass some kid off as my brother.
    The boy looked completely innocent, but with the potential to be a really bad egg. It was as if he was pulled from a painting. Too perfect for real life. A caramel face hugged by tight, sandy-brown ringlets complimented eyes like double drops of blue island water that stared curiously back at me. You could search, but never find a color in existence like those eyes.
    “Gwace.” It spoke and reached out to hug me with its little hands. I was either in love or hypnotized by the stink that was wafting up from the diaper. From the moment he spoke, he was my brother.
    I never did get my new bike.
    ***
    “Come on, Grace, you’ve gotta wake up. You’ve gotta run, can you run?” Remi pleaded with me. I hadn’t been asleep, I didn’t think. I looked around to get my bearings. He put me on the ground, and somehow my feet started moving.
    Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling. We were gonna die.
    You will not die tonight. Your strength will save us all. His voice broke through my thoughts like vice cops with a search warrant. I knew He would find me, that He would not let them … that He could not let me die.
    Still dizzy, my eyes focused on a white barn with blue accents. Despite everything, it appeared serene, untouched by evil. We were safe. He’s right. We’re gonna be OK.
    We entered. The pain in my leg had eased up. I felt down to the fork-shaped wound. The blood had dried and a scab was already forming. There is no way in the world that this wound should have healed in minutes. Maybe I am going into shock. Maybe the stress of the situation is too much. Maybe this is what happens to the mind