Words of Stone by Kevin Henkes Read Free Book Online Page B

soldiers were gone, but there was still a Ferris wheel. It looked enough like the one he had ridden with Reena to count. It was small, with wire cages that spun gently as the wheel rotated.
    â€œI want to try it,” Blaze said.
    â€œOkay,” said Glenn. “Let’s do it.”
    â€œI want to try it alone,” said Blaze.
    Glenn let him try.
    But it was more difficult than he thought it would be. He worried about the Ferris wheel itself. He remembered the cords that had caught on fire. He thought about his mother. He couldn’t do it. Ajax didn’t help. “I changed my mind,” he told Glenn. “Can we get something to eat?”
    Good-bye, Ajax.
    He tries every year. He doesn’t want to be afraid.
    Good-bye, Ken.
    He stands in line, but turns away at the last minute. He goes on other rides.
    Good-bye, Harold.
    Now that he’s old enough to go to the fairgrounds with some of his classmates, he sneaks off alone to the Ferris wheel. Unsuccessful every time. Or if his classmates want to ride the Ferris wheel, he says, “I have to go to the bathroom—do it without me.” Or “I’m going back to the games for a while. Meet me there.”
    Good-bye, Ortman.
    Every year that he can’t ride the Ferris wheel, he buries his old friend and gets a new one.
    Every year he tells no one.
    Every year he digs another hole.

10 BLAZE
    B laze had a dream that didn’t frighten him, but time and place and all other particulars escaped him. He stared listlessly at a spot on the ceiling in his bedroom, trying to make the dream come back. But he could only remember a foggy, pleasant feeling, and he tried to hold on to it, grabbing his chest as if the feeling were touchable and could be hugged like a pillow.
    After looking out the window and checking the hill (no new words of stone), Blaze dressed and went down to the kitchen for breakfast. Nova made pancakes for him. She served them with butter, blueberries, and powdered sugar. Blaze played with the blueberries, forming a letter C with them on the top of his stack of pancakes.
    â€œDo you like her?” Nova asked.
    â€œWho?” Blaze said. He spread some of the blueberries to the edge of his plate.
    â€œClaire, of course,” Nova replied. “Who else would I mean?” She smiled at Blaze and her cheeks became a farmer’s field of wrinkles.
    â€œI’m not sure,” Blaze answered, raising his fork, a blueberry speared on each tine. “But I think Dad’s in love.” The word sounded funny to Blaze: love. He wrinkled his nose.
    â€œLove’s not such a bad thing.”
    â€œI know, I know,” Blaze said, tossing his head from side to side. He smiled at Nova. “You really wouldn’t care if he got married again?”
    â€œI’d love it, and I mean it, and you know it. We’ve talked about that before.”
    â€œWould you still live with us?”
    Nova shook her head yes. “But don’t you think you’re jumping the gun? Slow down a bit. Eat your breakfast.”
    He ate and he thought. He thought that Nova was the most calm person he knew. And the smartest. And the nicest. He thought about going to rummage sales that afternoon with Glenn and Claire; Claire was looking for old furniture to fix up for her apartment. He thought about being short and wondered how tall he would be when he was fully grown. And he thought that he wanted to eat another pancake. And he did.
    After finishing breakfast and helping Nova with the dishes, Blaze walked up the hill to the black locust tree. He seemed drawn there as if by a magnet. It would be a hot day. Earlier there had been a milky haze on the hill that burned off, but the air was still heavy. Dew glittered on the tips of the grass. As he approached the crest of the hill, Blaze swung his arms back and forth, pretending to cut through the heat. When he reached the top, he stopped suddenly.
    Within the border of the grave