Read Online Every Day After by Laura Golden - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laura Golden
Ads: Link
perked up and edged closer. “You mean it’s old? You know, they just don’t make things the way they used to.”
She was close enough now that I could see long black hairs poking from her nostrils. Why Mr. Hinkle had picked her to be his bride I’d never know. She reached out her fat fingers and wrapped them around my locket. I fought hard to keep from knocking them away.
“Herbert, why can’t you ever find something like this for me? Your gifts are never right. Look and learn.”
Mrs. Hinkle dropped the locket and shoved me toward Mr. Hinkle. He dutifully began to examine it. “Yes, dear, it’s very nice.”
“And it’s been marked. That means nobody else in the world has one like it. Why in heaven’s name a puny little girl has a thing like that and I don’t is a mystery to me. Injustice. That’s what it is.”
Mr. Hinkle released the locket and I ran my fingers across its engraving, attempting to remove any lasttrace of Mrs. Hinkle. She turned and darted off into the back. I pictured her as a witch darting off on her broom, but the vision didn’t work. She was too big. She’d have crashed that stick of a broom straight to the ground.
Mr. Hinkle stood scratching his chin, eyeing my locket. If he was thinking I was gonna give my locket to that witchy wife of his, he’d gone slap off his rocker. My hand balled around the only possession I had that proved I was meant to be more than a “puny little girl.” I was meant for greatness. Daddy proved he still believed that when he left it for me. I’d worn it every day since he’d gone, and I refused to let it go now.
“You all right, Miss Lizzie?” Mr. Hinkle propped himself on his elbows, his eyebrows a furry mess of worry.
“Yes, sir. I’m fine.” I gulped. “It’s just that I know what you’re thinking. And I’m sorry, but you can’t have it. No one can.”
He nodded. “So it’s that important, huh? I could make you a real nice deal for keeping the missus off my back for a while. What do you say?”
My grip tightened around the locket and my mouth went as dry as cotton. “I can’t,” I said, looking Mr. Hinkle square in the eye. “Please understand.”
I was beginning to think staying in the store to torture myself with the scent of Goo Goo Clusters had been a bad idea. Wasn’t one of the Ten Commandments “Thou shalt not covet,” or in Mama’s words, “You can’t always havewhat you want, so learn to want what you have”? Maybe God was punishing me for sinning.
Mr. Hinkle drummed his fingers on the counter, then reached over and patted my arm. “Your locket, your choice, Lizzie Hawkins.” He winked and shuffled off into the back to find Mrs. Hinkle.
The tension eased, and a few minutes later I followed the Hinkles outside.
“You sure you won’t go with us?” Mr. Hinkle asked as he opened the passenger door of his ’29 Whippet for Mrs. Hinkle.
“I’m sure,” I said. “Maybe next time.”
“Sure thing. You have a nice evening, Miss Lizzie. I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Yes, sir.” I waved them off and started back toward home, wishing the whole way that I could’ve gone with them. I hadn’t taken a ride in a car since Daddy sold ours last year. The money he’d gotten for it had gone into the emergency savings jar in the kitchen cabinet. I’d seen him pull from that jar many times since. I couldn’t help but wonder how much he’d taken from it on the morning he left. Now I was certain there wasn’t much money left, and we had no car either.
That night, after I’d cleaned up dinner, read to Mama, and put her to bed, I took my journal from the drawer and opened it to a blank page. Seeing Mr. Hinkle drive away in that car had got me to remembering, and there was one memory in particular I wanted to stay in my journal forever.
May 7, 1932
In the summer of 1928, Daddy bought a used 1925 Ford Model T from Mr. Reeves, a man he worked with at the steel mill in Birmingham. I don’t know how much Daddy
She was close enough now that I could see long black hairs poking from her nostrils. Why Mr. Hinkle had picked her to be his bride I’d never know. She reached out her fat fingers and wrapped them around my locket. I fought hard to keep from knocking them away.
“Herbert, why can’t you ever find something like this for me? Your gifts are never right. Look and learn.”
Mrs. Hinkle dropped the locket and shoved me toward Mr. Hinkle. He dutifully began to examine it. “Yes, dear, it’s very nice.”
“And it’s been marked. That means nobody else in the world has one like it. Why in heaven’s name a puny little girl has a thing like that and I don’t is a mystery to me. Injustice. That’s what it is.”
Mr. Hinkle released the locket and I ran my fingers across its engraving, attempting to remove any lasttrace of Mrs. Hinkle. She turned and darted off into the back. I pictured her as a witch darting off on her broom, but the vision didn’t work. She was too big. She’d have crashed that stick of a broom straight to the ground.
Mr. Hinkle stood scratching his chin, eyeing my locket. If he was thinking I was gonna give my locket to that witchy wife of his, he’d gone slap off his rocker. My hand balled around the only possession I had that proved I was meant to be more than a “puny little girl.” I was meant for greatness. Daddy proved he still believed that when he left it for me. I’d worn it every day since he’d gone, and I refused to let it go now.
“You all right, Miss Lizzie?” Mr. Hinkle propped himself on his elbows, his eyebrows a furry mess of worry.
“Yes, sir. I’m fine.” I gulped. “It’s just that I know what you’re thinking. And I’m sorry, but you can’t have it. No one can.”
He nodded. “So it’s that important, huh? I could make you a real nice deal for keeping the missus off my back for a while. What do you say?”
My grip tightened around the locket and my mouth went as dry as cotton. “I can’t,” I said, looking Mr. Hinkle square in the eye. “Please understand.”
I was beginning to think staying in the store to torture myself with the scent of Goo Goo Clusters had been a bad idea. Wasn’t one of the Ten Commandments “Thou shalt not covet,” or in Mama’s words, “You can’t always havewhat you want, so learn to want what you have”? Maybe God was punishing me for sinning.
Mr. Hinkle drummed his fingers on the counter, then reached over and patted my arm. “Your locket, your choice, Lizzie Hawkins.” He winked and shuffled off into the back to find Mrs. Hinkle.
The tension eased, and a few minutes later I followed the Hinkles outside.
“You sure you won’t go with us?” Mr. Hinkle asked as he opened the passenger door of his ’29 Whippet for Mrs. Hinkle.
“I’m sure,” I said. “Maybe next time.”
“Sure thing. You have a nice evening, Miss Lizzie. I’ll be seeing you around.”
“Yes, sir.” I waved them off and started back toward home, wishing the whole way that I could’ve gone with them. I hadn’t taken a ride in a car since Daddy sold ours last year. The money he’d gotten for it had gone into the emergency savings jar in the kitchen cabinet. I’d seen him pull from that jar many times since. I couldn’t help but wonder how much he’d taken from it on the morning he left. Now I was certain there wasn’t much money left, and we had no car either.
That night, after I’d cleaned up dinner, read to Mama, and put her to bed, I took my journal from the drawer and opened it to a blank page. Seeing Mr. Hinkle drive away in that car had got me to remembering, and there was one memory in particular I wanted to stay in my journal forever.
May 7, 1932
In the summer of 1928, Daddy bought a used 1925 Ford Model T from Mr. Reeves, a man he worked with at the steel mill in Birmingham. I don’t know how much Daddy
Similar Books
