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She watched him disappear inside, her heart pounding. What was she to do with him? If she told Grandma, Grandma was sure to call the police. Wayne was right. The old lady didn’t like him—was scared of him, more than likely. She herself should probably call the police, but you can’t call the police to take away your own daddy. If only the star man were here. She glanced across to the trailer, but there was no car there. Miss Liza had said to call whenever she needed help, but this wasn’t the kind of burden to lay on the crooked shoulders of an old lady. She went into the house. She needed time to think.

“You’re late.”

“Am I?”

“What you been up to?” The eyes from the figure in the rocker were narrowed in suspicion.

“Nothing. I just got off the bus. It must have been late today.”

The old woman stuck out her lip in a pout. “I ain’t had no lunch.”

“Grandma! I left you a sandwich in the fridge. I told you it was there.”

“I didn’t feel like peanut butter.”

“Well, what do you feel like?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have no appetite lately.”

Angel wanted to scream. How could she figure out what to do about Wayne in the sugar house while Grandma was in here acting for all the world like a spoiled seven-year-old? She opened the refrigerator door. There wasn’t much inside. A little milk, one egg, the heel ends of a loaf of bread, a half jar of grape jelly, a dish of leftover peaches. No ham, no meat of any kind. Men always expected meat, didn’t they? “I guess I better hightail it to the store before it closes,” she said.

“No!”

The sharpness of the command made Angel turn quickly.

“It—it gets dark too soon. I don’t want you to leave me here in the dark by myself.”

“It’s okay, Grandma, I can get off the bus at the store tomorrow and bring stuff home then.” She went to the cabinet. There were always beans in the cabinet. She didn’t think she’d ever bought any. Sometimes it seemed like the beans got together and multiplied on the shelf. “I’ll just heat up a can of beans, okay?”

“Hmmph.”

She took the grunt for a yes. As she stirred, her mind went back to Wayne. It would be cold out there in the sugar house. Should she try to sneak him a blanket? She could take him the peanut butter sandwich Grandma hadn’t eaten, but there wasn’t much else. Well, it wasn’t her fault he came without any notice. She tried to ignore the churning in her stomach.

“Why don’t you come over to the table to eat your beans, Grandma?” She had the feeling the old woman hadn’t moved all day. At first she thought Grandma was going to refuse, but she grunted her way out of the rocker and across the short distance to the kitchen table.

The only sound at the meal was the noise Grandma made with her lips as she ate. Finally, she said, “You scared me, Angel.” The long white hair growing out of the mole on her nose was trembling as she spoke.

“How did I scare you?”

“I thought you was running out on me for sure.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Well, you was out last night late and then you was late coming home.”

“I haven’t got anyplace to run to, Grandma.”

“Some folks don’t need no place. They just go.”

Like Wayne. Like Verna and Bernie. Like the star man.

“Well, I got better sense than that. ’Sides, I just about got you trained to the five major food groups. I wouldn’t want to have to start all over with somebody new.”

Grandma gave a tiny hint of a grin.

***

Angel did her homework at the kitchen table, all the time trying to figure out how to get the sandwich and a blanket out to Wayne, trying not to hate him for mixing up her life worse than it already was. She thought Grandma would never go to bed, and even after she had, it was a long time before Angel could hear the snores that proved the old woman was dead asleep.


Tags: Katherine Paterson Young Adult