The Moon by Night by Madeleine L'Engle Read Free Book Online Page B

stood there and took it. I didn’t think Daddy would. I held my breath. Before the boy could do anything Daddy reached out casually and gave a flip and the boy was over his back and lying sprawled on the soft, wet leaves.
    I let my breath out.
    Daddy was a black belt in Judo before any of us was ever born. We’ve always been proud of it, but as far as I know he’s never had to use it before.
    The boy got up and as soon as he was on his feet Daddy flipped him again. Then he picked him up by the scruff of his neck. “Get back in your car and go home.”
    The boy stood there in front of Daddy. The back door of the car opened, but nobody got out. Beside me on the picnic bench John stood up and started to walk down to Daddy.
    Daddy looked levelly at the boy. “Get back in your car. This is a state campgrounds and you are certainly a very poor
representative of your state. Go home. And don’t come back here again.”
    The boy looked at Daddy. Daddy looked back, stern and commanding. The boy dropped his gaze and turned, saying, “Aw, c’mon, let’s get out of here.” He got back in the car and started it so quickly that the wheels spun. They went careening down the road, taking the curve on two wheels.
    Daddy and John came back to the picnic table. Suzy said in a shaky voice, “I don’t think I like Tennessee.” My hands were drenched in cold sweat, and I could see that Mother’s hand, as she reached for her tin mug, was trembling.
    John’s voice was gratey, so I knew that he’d been scared, too. “Don’t be a nut. It’s just hoods anywhere. They’re all the same. Tennessee, New York, the U.S.S.R.”
    â€œNot in Thornhill, ” Suzy protested.
    â€œThere’re a couple in Thornhill, and a gang of them over at Regional. Vicky knows that.”
    Yes, he was right. I thought about some of the boys at home who had been grinning, freckle-faced kids just a couple of years ago and who were now hanging around the drugstore and smoking and thinking they were so darned big. I couldn’t even talk to them any more. It was as though we spoke different languages. What was changing them? To what?
    Suzy asked, “Daddy, weren’t you scared?”
    â€œI didn’t like it,” Daddy said, “but most hoodlums are cowards when it comes to a showdown. They’re only brave when they think you’re afraid of them. Now don’t let this spoil our trip, and don’t let it spoil Tennessee. John’s quite right.”
    â€œAre we to be frightened by our teen-agers?” Mother asked bitterly. “Has it come to that?”

    â€œVicky and I are teen-agers,” John said. “You can’t blame teen-agers any more than you can Tennessee. There are dopey fringe elements in every group. I wrote a paper on it for Social Studies once.”
    Daddy finished his milk. “Okay, son, you stay here and take care of everybody. I’m going down to talk to the ranger.”
    â€œAbout those JDs?” Suzy asked.
    â€œI doubt if they’re really JDs,” Daddy said, “but it’s certainly a very poor idea to allow them in a state campgrounds. Come along with me, Rob. Girls, you help Mother with the dishes.”
    After we’d washed and dried the dishes and emptied out the rinse water Suzy remembered, “Hey, we haven’t had dessert!” So Mother said just to roast some marshmallows. The fire had died down now and there was a lovely bed of glowing coals, just right for marshmallows. John likes to burn his, and Suzy likes hers raw, but what I like is to toast mine a lovely, puffy, golden brown, then eat off the toasted skin, hold it back over the embers and watch it puff up again, almost to full size, eat off the skin, toast it again, and go on until I’m almost down to nothing. Mother likes hers that way, too, and we had a contest to see who could make the marshmallows last for the most