School of Charm by Lisa Ann Scott Read Free Book Online Page B

held out her hand, and I grabbed it a little tighter than I meant to as I tugged her along to the kitchen. I rooted around the refrigerator and found spinach and a carrot for Earl.
    â€œOh, no. You’ll spoil your supper.” Grandma held out her hand. “No snacks before dinner.” Her painted-on eyebrows were almost touching, like two mean caterpillars ready to fight.
    Grandma was crazy if she thought I’d pick carrots and spinach for a snack. I handed back the food and stalked to my room. I sat in front of Earl’s bowl.
    Ruthie plopped down next to me. “Can I hold him?”
    I took a few deep breaths to slow my heart. “No. Earl’s very fragile. And he’s a secret. Don’t tell Grandma he’s here.” Earl was asleep on the rock in the middle of the bowl. My eyes stung just looking at him. He seemed sad. He wasn’t eating and I had to keep him hidden. It was going to be a whole lot harder taking care of this little guy than I’d figured. I wasn’t so sure now I could do it without Daddy’s help.
    â€œYou know, Chip, you should . . . ,” he’d say. But I couldn’t figure out what words he would have used next. “I’ll have to set this one on the burner until the solution finds me,” I remembered him saying.
    That made me feel better. Maybe some great turtle-raising solution would just drop into my head.
    â€œYou’re s’posed to play with me outside. Mama said.” Ruthie stuck out her lower lip.
    I groaned. “Bring a book to look at.”
    She grabbed a book of fairy tales, and we went to Grandma’s big backyard. Ruthie settled under a tree and fluffed out her dress, folding her legs so the tips of her black shoes poked out. She started talking to herself like she was reading, but she knew most of the stories by heart because Mama had read them to her so many times.
    I found a patch of grass dotted with shade from the trees. They looked like they’d been stretching up to the sky for a long time. I closed my eyes and played the Listen Game Daddy and I had loved so much. I tried to identify all the sounds I heard without looking: two birds twittering back and forth; Charlene whining inside; a car whizzing down the road.
    â€œDid you hear that, Daddy?” I whispered. “I wonder where they’re going.”
    Then Ruthie started sniffling and whimpering. That girl cried all the time over nothing. Usually I just tried to make her laugh and forget about whatever was making her sad. That hadn’t been working so well lately.
    â€œWhat’s wrong, Ruthie?” I asked.
    â€œYou’re talking about Daddy. Don’t do that. We’re not supposed to.” Ruthie rubbed her hand under her nose.
    â€œRuthie, you can talk to him. I do.”
    She put her hands over her ears and started crying harder. Maybe Charlene was right and talking about Daddy was a bad idea. I shut my mouth and did a few somersaults toward Ruthie, and thank goodness she started giggling. “Me too, me too!” she said, clapping.
    I shook my head. “You’ll get that dress dirty for sure.”
    But it was too late. She stood up and put her head on the ground and tumbled to the side. Her white dress was stained with a big streak of green. Good thing Mama had practice getting out my stains.
    Ruthie lined herself up and tumbled to the side again. “Help me!”
    â€œHere,” I said, squaring her shoulders. “Put your head between your feet and look up behind you at the sky. Shake your bottom to get it lined up just right, and then fall forward.”
    Ruthie stuck her ruffled behind in the air, waggled it a few times, and toppled over in a perfect somersault. She stood up and clapped, and tried it again and again.
    â€œSupper, girls!” Grandma hollered out the window.
    Her voice stopped me with a start. Ruthie was filthy. She must have known we were in for it too, because she