Virginia Hamilton by Justice, Her Brothers: The Justice Cycle (Book One) Read Free Book Online

order to see herself. All Thomas and Levi had to do was look at one another.
    Noise beat steadily from the living room.
    “You think he’s going to drum like that all summer?” she asked Levi. She was talking to his back and he did not turn around.
    “Tice, I have to do this right,” he said, and that was all.
    At least he hadn’t called her Pickle. He hardly ever did when they were alone.
    Levi took up a spatula to scrape semi-burned sandwiches from the skillet onto a plate.
    “Do you ever want to be like Thomas?” suddenly she thought to ask him.
    To be a drummer, she thought. To be so stubborn and willful all the time.
    He turned to face her. There was a weary look in his eyes. It wasn’t the first time she had seen it.
    “Sometimes I am Thomas,” he said softly. “I never know when.”
    She didn’t know what to make of that. But she took it as the way one identical might speak offhandedly of the other.
    “Does he ever want to be you, you think?” she asked him.
    Levi was holding the plate of sandwiches up over the stove, with the spatula on top of them. He had left the skillet smoking, and she reached around him to turn the burner off. She saw his shoulders shudder in rhythm with the beat of Thomas’ drums.
    “Leave me alone,” he said, like a whine. “Just … be quiet … don’t bother me now.”
    What can you do, she wondered, when your favorite brother says something like that to you?
    In some kind of mood, she guessed, and took her seat at the table.
    Levi always set the table so nice. There were yellow napkins, white plates and a bowl of potato chips. There was a big bottle of Coke, and ice all ready in the glasses. But she would have enjoyed it much better if her mom had been there making the sandwiches and munching chips as she worked. Levi wasn’t one to munch unless he was sitting down eating a meal.
    She noticed it was only eleven-thirty. Levi fixed lunch whenever someone was hungry. Must have been Thomas.
    If her mom had been here, she would have talked to Justice while she worked. Asking questions. Telling things. Her mom would talk a mile a minute and Justice would, too.
    It’s so different this summer, Justice thought. Noisy different. It’s a weird summer house, she couldn’t help thinking, and getting stranger every minute.
    “Y’all used to having folks watch over you too close,” Justice’s friend Mrs. Jefferson liked to say. “Never do, making children too self-conscious. Y’all think you important.”
    You wouldn’t call Levi and Thomas children, would you? Certainly, they weren’t to Justice. But wouldn’t it be oh so nice if some grown-up would come along and tell Thomas to cut out the racket so much all the time!
    Wish Mom were home. In four, five hours she will be.
    “Mrs. Leona Bethune Jefferson is better than having nobody,” Justice told herself.
    Maybe to sneak off and visit her. Justice thought about it.
    Biking down the Quinella Road each day, sometimes more than once. She hadn’t visited Mrs. Jefferson all week.
    If not today, then tomorrow afternoon for sure.
    Dimly, she was aware of a peaceful quiet in the house, but then Thomas came charging into the kitchen. Always, he seemed to be bursting with noise. Even his voice exploded from his mouth as though someone had set it off.
    Levi was about to serve Justice her sandwich, poised on the greasy spatula.
    “D-d-d-ooon’t touch it, Puh-piii-cle!” Thomas warned her. “N-n-not until I-I-hIII’m served!” Drawing out his words and popping them at her.
    Oh, brother! she thought. She sometimes thought he stuttered just to annoy her. But she was used to his demanding ways.
    Now she and Levi waited patiently as Thomas elaborately seated himself. He smoothed his hair back while peering closely at Levi.
    She didn’t know how many times she’d seen Thomas use Levi as his own reflection. Neither of them ever had to use a mirror.
    With his fork, Thomas speared a sandwich from the plate before Levi had a chance