Preacher's Boy by Katherine Paterson Read Free Book Online

did "almost given away" mean, exactly? A dollar thirty-five? That would certainly be a giveaway compared to $20 or $125. Just who on God's green earth would pay $125 for a pair of wheels? Boy, if I had $125, I wouldn't waste it on any fancy bicycle. I'd go straight out and buy me a Winton motorcar like the one I saw in Tyler. I sighed. No, motorcars probably cost a fortune, more like a thousand dollars than a hundred.

4. Missing Elliot
    N O FISH THAT AFTERNOON—TOO HOT AND THE WRONG spot—but supper made up for it. We hadn't had as good a meal since the Reverend Pelham left town. Ma roasted up one of the older chickens that had given up laying. It was hardly tough at all the way she did it. On top of chicken we had baked beans and Indian pudding and some kind of custard.
    Pa was very jolly and talked about the parade. He even spoke kindly of how good me and Willie had been pulling Letty the whole length of the parade route. I guess he hadn't heard about my little alteration with Ned Weston. At least he never mentioned it. He and Ma had stayed for all the speeches on the town hall green. Mr. Weston had surprised everyone by only speaking an hour and a half—a full forty minutes short of his previous record.
    As good as supper was, we hurried it a bit. The
band concert was due to begin at six-thirty, while it was still light, and we didn't want to miss any of it. And yes, Letty could stay up for the fireworks. Both Beth and I were obliged to object. We'd never been allowed to stay up that late when we were five, but it was a halfhearted protest We were all in too good a mood. Besides, if Letty was put to bed, one of us might be recruited to stay home with her. We couldn't take that chance.
    By quarter past six we had a blanket spread out on the green. We're a big family for one blanket, so we held to sit close together. I huddled against Pa. "You cold, Robbie?" he asked. I nodded yes, so he put his arm around me. I wasn't really cold, but somehow I was feeling that if I got more than an inch away from the warmth of his big body, I was likely to freeze. Was that what being out on your own in the cold, cruel world meant? Was it like the coldness you feel on a summer night when you can't get close enough to your pa's big, warm presence?
    It didn't last. Letty keeled over, dead asleep, and Pa reached out and picked her up and held her, cradling her head against his chest. She didn't even wake up when the band started tuning up, just kind of stirred a bit and settled down.
    "I guess I'll go sit with Willie," I said.
    "All right," Pa said, smiling. I wanted him to say something like "Don't go. Sit here with us," but he didn't.
    I would have really enjoyed the band concert except I couldn't get over how cold it was—though it was July the Fourth and not dark yet. But then the concert ended and the fireworks were on. It's hard to think about much else when the sky is exploding: rockets whizzing and whining and blasting to great umbrellas of shattered
light all over the town and as far as the mountains on either side. I wondered, but not in a scary way, mind you, just wondered if the end of the world could hold a candle to those fireworks for aerial excitement.
    "Robbie, have you seen Elliot?" I jumped up at the sound of Pa's voice. He had startled me there in the dark, my mind being on the convulsions of light in the sky. He was standing behind me, a kerosene lantern in one hand.
    "No, Pa, no I ain't." I could tell he was worried when he didn't correct my grammar.
    "You boys help me look for him?"
    "Sure, Mr. Hewitt." Willie was on his feet now, tucking his shirttail into his pants, all business.
    "Sit down and be quiet," somebody said loudly and rudely from a few feet behind us, so we moved off, Willie folding his blanket as we headed off the green and into Main Street.
    "We were all here together watching the display when he said he had to go—I was afraid he might—well, I had Letty on my lap, so I just