Dark Shimmer Read Online Free Page B

dripping. It’s dark by the time we go through the door. I build the fire—that’s my job—then change into dry clothes.
    Mamma’s already plopping crabs into the pot, one by one. Her clean shift smells like dry grass. I love the smells of autumn. I kiss the top of her head and watch the gray shells turn orange in the flickering firelight. “You’re an expert at foot-fishing.”
    “There isn’t much to it, is there? Anyone could be an expert. I’m glad Giordano taught you his secret. And I’m glad the tide was so low tonight that I wasn’t afraid to do it myself.”
    “You don’t have to be afraid ever, Mamma. I can teach you to swim.”
    “You’re the mermaid, Dolce, not me. I’m content on land.” She laughs. “Except when I have a craving for crabs. Then nothing else can satisfy me, and look, I go right into the water.”
    I don’t have cravings like that. Except maybe for people to like me. Or to love me. Mamma makes life seem so simple, craving things she can have.
    Mamma pinches my arm playfully. “My perfect daughter, you’ve made it so that I can satisfy my whims any time I want.”
    Perfect.
Sometimes when Mamma says things like that, I’m so happy. But right now I’m too hungry to be happy. My stomach growls. “I guess I should throw roots into the water for me.”
    “I can’t lure you with crabs, not even when I caught them?”
    “I hate them.”
    “Who can hate crabs?”
    “They take forever to pick through. How many are there in this pot? Fourteen? Fifteen? And still I bet you won’t be full when you finish.”
    “You have to take pleasure in the whole thing, Dolce. You talk while you pick out the flesh. You tell stories. You—”
    “What if you’re alone?”
    “What?”
    “What if you have no one to talk to?”
    “Then you plan. You figure out what you’ll do in the day ahead. Or you just dream. You’re a good dreamer, Dolce. I see you sitting sometimes, back against a wall, sun on your cheeks. You know how to dream.”
    Mamma watches me when I don’t realize it. I bet she’s the only one who ever looks at me when they don’t have to. “You know what I’m dreaming of right now?” I ask.
    Mamma thrusts her head forward and raises an eyebrow. Her cheeks pucker in expectation. “Close your eyes.”
    “Why?”
    “Don’t be stubborn, Dolce. Just do it.”
    I close my eyes. A moment later the vinegary smell under my nose is unmistakable. I open my eyes and quick take the plate of sardines Mamma’s holding up.
    She laughs. “I browned the onions slow, like you like, so the sweetness comes out strong. But I added something new.”
    I sit on the floor with the marvelous dish in my lap. “Raisins? And what are these?” I pop a little white thing into my mouth. “Pine nuts. Did you add pine nuts?”
    “Raisins and pine nuts cover stinky onion breath. I want my fair daughter to smell as sweet as she is. I cooked it this morning, so it’s had all day to grow succulent.” She laughs again and scoops crabs from the pot. “As succulent as these crabs.”
    We sit there, eating and telling stories late into the night, and I make sure to eat my sardines at the same pace Mamma eats her crabs. Just to keep her company. She’d do it for me. I am the luckiest monster in the world.



“ D olce! Come quick!” The voice is distant.
    I don’t even have to look to know it’s Tommaso. He’s ten and likes to follow me around, even though I’m fifteen. Sometimes his chatter makes my headaches come, and, oh, Lord, they pound me senseless. But most of the time I listen so I can learn about everything that’s happening without having to get near the others.
    I’m working on a new mirror. A finished one is propped to my right. I have one propped to my left, too. I don’t look directly into them, of course. I look from the side and I watch the grasses behind me shake in the breeze and see the branches of the far-off apple trees laden with fruit. These mirrors calm me.
    Tommaso