Alma Mater Read Online Free Page B
Author: Rita Mae Brown
pretty."
"Let's go greet the next generation."
"Degeneration."
"With any luck," R. J. said, laughing.
A
plume of pale gray dust, atomized oyster shells, floated up toward the turquoise sky, which was the same color as Vic's '61 Impala. With the top down, hair blowing in the wind, the
three occupants personified youth itself, absolute freedom allied to ab solute uncertainty.
R. J. walked up the slow rise of lawn to the house, a simple frame clapboard house built in 1734. The original structure, a log cabin, was burned in 1642 during an Indian raid. It was stubbornly rebuilt, and when money poured in from England in those middle years of the eighteenth century, thanks to tobacco, the third generation of Vances built a proper frame house with large glass windows, a sure sign of af fluence, and named it Surry Crossing.
Farther west past Sloop Point, Claremont Manor abutted Surry Crossing. Across the impressively expansive river, one could see from Sandy Point to Dancing Point. The vista alone was worth the genera tions of toil and blood.
As the Impala screeched to a halt (God forbid Vic would ever drive slowly) the doors opened, and Jinx hopped over the driver's seat from the rear.
As everyone hugged everyone else and Chris was introduced and hugged in turn, another spiral of dust could be observed accompanied
by the guttural roar of a large diesel engine. The brakes squealed at the foot of the long drive ; then the roar continued as the driver sped away.
"Hey. I'll be right back. Let me go pick up the brat." As Vic hopped in her car and sped down the drive, R. J. and Bunny began to give Chris the tour, starting with the enormous walnut tree planted imme diately after the War of 1812.
Books under her arm, Mignon looked up to see her older sister bar reling down at her. Vic pretended to steer at her and then she hit the brakes. Mignon feigned cool indifference.
"Lame," the younger Savedge said.
"Hop in, Your Weirdness."
Mignon threw her books in the back then climbed in the passen ger side. "Lowness."
"Boobness." Vic spun the car around.
"You'd better not have to buy another set of tires for this, Vic. You know how Dad hates it when you do wheelies."
"Dad's not here."
They both giggled as Vic drove back to the house.
"Made an A in . . ." Mignon paused. "Who's that?"
"Chris Carter. Friend from school."
"Where's Charly?"
"Football tomorrow."
"Oh. Aren't you going?"
"No. Stuff to do here."
"Sure." Mignon's tone implied that she knew what the stuff was, which she didn't. No point in being too eager to find out ; then Vic would taunt her.
Mignon came up to be introduced to Chris just as Aunt Bunny was saying, "My real name is Beatrice. If it were good enough for Dante it should be good enough for me, but Orgy, I mean R. J., has called me Bunny from the time we were toddlers. Hello, Mignon."
"Hi, Aunt Bunny."
"Chris Carter, this is my horrible little sister, Mignon Catlett Savedge. I added her middle name to make her sound better than she really is."
"Your middle name is . . ." Mignon started to say turd and then realized she ought not to say that in front of someone she'd just met. Well, really, she supposed if Southern lady ought not to say it at all. "Your middle name is Weenie."
"Clever." Vic pushed Mignon.
"All right, you two." R. J. gave them the look. "Chris, come on inside. Let me help you with your bags."
"I'll get them." Mignon knew that was her signal.
"There's just two books in the backseat of the car and a red canvas bag."
"Got it."
R. J. turned to Jinx. "Sleeping with us or at home?"
"My mother is to be avoided at all costs." The corners of Jinx's lips turned up.
"What an awful thing to say." Bunny's voice indicated the exact opposite.
"You have to see her some time if I'm going to get any furniture," Vic said.
"Come on, let me get you girls settled." R. J. pushed them into the
house as Bunny headed to the kitchen to pour iced tea for everyone. When they returned
"Let's go greet the next generation."
"Degeneration."
"With any luck," R. J. said, laughing.
A
plume of pale gray dust, atomized oyster shells, floated up toward the turquoise sky, which was the same color as Vic's '61 Impala. With the top down, hair blowing in the wind, the
three occupants personified youth itself, absolute freedom allied to ab solute uncertainty.
R. J. walked up the slow rise of lawn to the house, a simple frame clapboard house built in 1734. The original structure, a log cabin, was burned in 1642 during an Indian raid. It was stubbornly rebuilt, and when money poured in from England in those middle years of the eighteenth century, thanks to tobacco, the third generation of Vances built a proper frame house with large glass windows, a sure sign of af fluence, and named it Surry Crossing.
Farther west past Sloop Point, Claremont Manor abutted Surry Crossing. Across the impressively expansive river, one could see from Sandy Point to Dancing Point. The vista alone was worth the genera tions of toil and blood.
As the Impala screeched to a halt (God forbid Vic would ever drive slowly) the doors opened, and Jinx hopped over the driver's seat from the rear.
As everyone hugged everyone else and Chris was introduced and hugged in turn, another spiral of dust could be observed accompanied
by the guttural roar of a large diesel engine. The brakes squealed at the foot of the long drive ; then the roar continued as the driver sped away.
"Hey. I'll be right back. Let me go pick up the brat." As Vic hopped in her car and sped down the drive, R. J. and Bunny began to give Chris the tour, starting with the enormous walnut tree planted imme diately after the War of 1812.
Books under her arm, Mignon looked up to see her older sister bar reling down at her. Vic pretended to steer at her and then she hit the brakes. Mignon feigned cool indifference.
"Lame," the younger Savedge said.
"Hop in, Your Weirdness."
Mignon threw her books in the back then climbed in the passen ger side. "Lowness."
"Boobness." Vic spun the car around.
"You'd better not have to buy another set of tires for this, Vic. You know how Dad hates it when you do wheelies."
"Dad's not here."
They both giggled as Vic drove back to the house.
"Made an A in . . ." Mignon paused. "Who's that?"
"Chris Carter. Friend from school."
"Where's Charly?"
"Football tomorrow."
"Oh. Aren't you going?"
"No. Stuff to do here."
"Sure." Mignon's tone implied that she knew what the stuff was, which she didn't. No point in being too eager to find out ; then Vic would taunt her.
Mignon came up to be introduced to Chris just as Aunt Bunny was saying, "My real name is Beatrice. If it were good enough for Dante it should be good enough for me, but Orgy, I mean R. J., has called me Bunny from the time we were toddlers. Hello, Mignon."
"Hi, Aunt Bunny."
"Chris Carter, this is my horrible little sister, Mignon Catlett Savedge. I added her middle name to make her sound better than she really is."
"Your middle name is . . ." Mignon started to say turd and then realized she ought not to say that in front of someone she'd just met. Well, really, she supposed if Southern lady ought not to say it at all. "Your middle name is Weenie."
"Clever." Vic pushed Mignon.
"All right, you two." R. J. gave them the look. "Chris, come on inside. Let me help you with your bags."
"I'll get them." Mignon knew that was her signal.
"There's just two books in the backseat of the car and a red canvas bag."
"Got it."
R. J. turned to Jinx. "Sleeping with us or at home?"
"My mother is to be avoided at all costs." The corners of Jinx's lips turned up.
"What an awful thing to say." Bunny's voice indicated the exact opposite.
"You have to see her some time if I'm going to get any furniture," Vic said.
"Come on, let me get you girls settled." R. J. pushed them into the
house as Bunny headed to the kitchen to pour iced tea for everyone. When they returned
Readers choose
Elizabeth Gunn
Richard Hoskins
Chuck Wendig
Amanda Cooper
Judith Tarr
Helen Scott Taylor
Quintin Jardine
Julie Anne Lindsey
Rachel Hore
Leigh Perry