Waiting for Harvey (The Spirits of Maine) by Lydia North, Kim Scott Read Free Book Online Page A

had been an incredible summer.  On the long trip south to Scarborough, we talked about all of the fun things we had done.  We thanked Mr. Flaherty repeatedly for giving us such a great vacation.  The only bad part about it was that it was ending too soon.  Just one more week was all we wanted.  Well, then maybe one more week after that.
    Seven hours later we were nearing home again.  Mr. Flaherty stopped at a fast food place to get French fries and milk shakes for us.  We sat at a small, square table with the seats attached to it.  Joking and laughing as we stole fries from each other.  The games continued until our parents arrived.  Our vacation had officially ended.
    Jimmy’s father was in a hurry, so he wrapped the last of his fries in a napkin, said his good-byes and left.  Our dad stepped outside to talk with Mr. Flaherty while we waited at the table.  Impassively, Dad loaded our bags into his pick-up truck.  We thanked Mr. Flaherty one last time and in a flash we were on our way home.
    In less than ten minutes, we were home again.  Everything looked the same.  The house was neat and clean, the way our mother liked it.  Music was playing on the radio in the backyard.  Our sisters were sunbathing with friends.  Dad sent us upstairs to empty our bags, put our dirty laundry in the hamper, and put our things away.
    “Where is Mom?” I asked.
    Dad had already gone outside again.  I heard the squeak of the outdoor faucet as he prepared to wash his truck.  I shrugged and dragged my back pack up the stairs to the bedroom that John and I shared.
    Late in the day Dad put burgers and hot dogs on the grill.  He called John and me outside to talk while he watched over it.  Inside the house, our sisters were busy making potato salad and other dishes for a family cookout.  We stood near the grill, inhaling the aroma as Dad lifted the lid to flip the burgers again.
    “Your Mom passed on,” he sighed and his shoulders slumped forward.  “She endured it all for as long as she could.”
    John and I looked at each other.  His words made no sense.  Mom was sleeping in her dark bedroom upstairs like always.  My eyes filled with tears and everything blurred.  I wanted to go to my grandmother’s house.  I didn’t want to be there with my father who could tell me such a horrible lie.  My grandmother would make everything right again.  John sat still, not speaking, and showing no expression.
    I ran into the house, stomping up the stairs as I went.  I banged open the door to my parent’s bedroom to see my mother.  I would tell her about my father’s lie and she would correct him.  The curtains that she always kept closed hung open, flooding the room with sunshine.  The empty bed had been made up neat as a pin.  Her makeup and perfume were gone from the top of the dresser.  Her soft pink robe wasn’t hanging on the back of the door. 
    Panicked, I jerked the closet door open.  I pushed at the clothes hanging there.  The pinks and purples that my Mom loved best were gone.  Her shoes that had stood in neat rows had vanished.  Her summer hats that rested on the high shelves had all been removed.
    I fell to the floor with my face on my arms.  It was true.  Our Mom was gone.  She had passed into some other place and no longer inhabited our home.  A dreadful pain filled my chest.  Nothing in my family home would ever be the same again.
    Dad came up to sit on the bed he had shared with our Mom.  He held me in his arms as I cried myself to sleep.  Sometime late in the day our grandma arrived.  Grandma woke me gently and took my hand.  She led me down the stairs and out the front door.  In her house, scented with cinnamon, coffee, and lavender, she fussed over me for days.  I think she needed that time as much as I did.
    The night before the new school year began; Dad announced that we all needed to move forward.  Working two jobs, he would continue to provide well for our family.  My sisters