Waiting for Sunrise by Eva Marie Everson Read Free Book Online

brother.”
    His head bobbed once. “Lloyd.”
    Her head mimicked his. “Lloyd.”
    He glanced nervously toward her bedroom door. “So . . . you like your new room? Mam arranged the flowers, but I put them on the doily.”
    She smiled. “It’s nice. They’re nice. Thank you.”
    “Mam says we don’t have a lot, but what we have is clean. Mam likes clean.”
    Patsy took tentative steps toward her room. Lloyd turned as though to follow. “I guess I missed breakfast.” She stepped into the room, Lloyd right behind her. This was new; just as she wasn’t allowed in her mother and Mr. Liddle’s room, at home her little brothers weren’t allowed in her room.
    “Yeah, but Mam will make you something to eat. Mam loves to cook. She’s good at it too.”
    Patsy sighed as if she’d been squeezed. “Oh yeah?” She looked around the room, not knowing where to put her new nightgown.
    Lloyd pointed to a narrow door on the wall to her right. “It’s a little closet, but Mam put a hook on the inside of the door just for your nightclothes.”
    Patsy blinked. “Thank you. Again.”
    She opened the closet door. High inside was a bar with a few wooden hangers. She took them down one at a time, then set about to the task of unpacking her suitcase. Lloyd was quiet while she worked. He sat in the rocker, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, and when she’d finished he said, “So, you’re my real sister.”
    Patsy whirled around. She couldn’t answer; she could only nod.
    “Well, then.” Patsy watched as he visibly swallowed. “I guess you should go on downstairs and eat something for breakfast before it’s time for lunch.”
    ———
    Little William Liddle—called Billy—was only four years old that September night in 1946, but he was old enough to know what was what.
    He knew his sister Patsy had gone somewhere. And from the way his mama was acting, it had to be somewhere bad. He reckoned she’d done something awful. His daddy was always mad at her for one thing or another; she must have really done it this time.
    He also knew Daddy would be fighting mad about it too.
    They’d been put to bed early that night, him and his older brother Harold. Him and Harold had played hard that day, and Harold had gone right to sleep. But Billy couldn’t find his way to dreamland. The air was stirrin’ in the house, and Mama was nervous as a cat.
    When he’d heard Daddy’s car shut off in the driveway, he’d closed his eyes tight. Daddy was sure to look in on them, and he didn’t want to be caught with his eyes open. So he rolled over on his side, pulled the covers tight up under his chin, and listened while pretending.
    He heard Daddy walking in the front door. Mama said something to him, low and easy. Daddy said, “Where are my boys?” Daddy’s voice always boomed when he came home from his workweek.
    And Mama said, “. . . both so tuckered out, I put them to bed early.” Footsteps headed up the stairs. The door opened, and even with his eyes shut, Billy could see the shaft of light from the hallway.
    The door closed. Mama and Daddy heading back down the hallway, Billy figured to their own room.
    “Don’t you want your supper?” Mama was asking. “I kept it warm in the oven.”
    Daddy said, “What’d you make?”
    Mama rattled off, “Meat loaf and sweet potato soufflé and tomato slices with some cukes and I made a nice pound cake. Came out real good.”
    Daddy said, “Where’s the girl?”
    He always asked like that. Never called Patsy by her name. Always “the girl.”
    Billy sat up in bed now. “Harold?” he whispered. But Harold didn’t stir.
    “I said, ‘Where’s the girl?’” Daddy said it again.
    Boy, oh boy. Mama’d better come up with a good one or Patsy’d sure get it when she got home. Daddy would whup her like he ain’t never whupped her before. And then Billy wondered why Daddy always beat on Patsy so. She was a good sister. A pretty sister. And seemed to him like she