Fever Season Read Online Free Page A

David’s hurt himself, but Mommy’s going to make it all better.”
    Alice clapped her pudgy little hands. Then she looked serious again. “Dolly gots a boo-boo, too.” She held up her little rag doll to show that one of its button eyes was hanging by a thread.
    David groaned. He didn’t want to sew it up for her. Not now.
    â€œDolly will have to wait her turn,” their mother said. “Mommy will fix her boo-boo when she’s finished fixing David’s. Why don’t you put Dolly in bed like a good little nurse and wait in the bedroom for me?”
    Alice toddled off to the room she now shared with her brother, leaving David and his mother alone in the kitchen.
    â€œOne of the older boys from school?”
    David nodded.
    â€œDo you want to talk about it?”
    â€œNot really.” David didn’t want her to know what had happened with the cupcakes.
    David’s mother chipped off some ice from the block at the top of the icebox and wrapped the pieces in a towel. She gave it to David to put on his eye. “Maybe you should talk to your father.”
    He shook his head. That sounded like a bad idea. His father already thought he was puny and weak. All he would do was make David feel worse. But he’d notice the black eye. “Couldn’t we just tell him I got bumped by a horse at the blacksmith’s?”
    His mother sighed. “I’ll talk to him. Tonight. After you’re in bed.”
    David nodded. If his father had to know that bullies had picked on him, then he’d rather his mother did the telling.
    That night, when he was supposed to be asleep, David carefully pushed open the door to his bedroom. Although the squeal of the hinges sent shivers down his spine, nobody except David heard it. He could see light coming from the space under his parents’ door, and he could make out the sound of his mother’s voice. Quietly, he crept down the hall to listen.
    â€œOf course not,” he heard his mother say. “I think he needs to spend some time with you, but is he old enough?”
    â€œThere’s no age limit,” his father said.
    â€œBut it’s so rough. Do you think it’s all right?”
    â€œI wouldn’t have said so if I didn’t. Besides, I think it’ll do him some good. All he seems to know about are women’s things. This will give him and this boy something in common they can talk about.”
    â€œI hope you’re right.”
    One of his parents must have turned off the light after that, because David suddenly found himself in the dark. Waiting silently until his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he tiptoed back to his room. What would do him some good? And what in the world could possibly give him anything in common with Kevin Bull?

    The next evening David’s father took him to a hockey game. Even though David had never been to a game before, it was impossible to live in Montreal without knowing at least a little about hockey. People who had skates could use them on the snow-packed streets in the winter, and they played pickup games in lanes and alleys. Small cards showing coloured pictures of hockey players were given away in packs of cigarettes, and many fathers gave them to their sons. David had seen boys trading them at school, but he’d never been very interested in hockey. Obviously, a lot of people were, though, because as soon as David and his father stepped off the Sherbrooke streetcar, they were swept up in a huge crowd heading down Wood Avenue to Saint Catherine Street.
    The people in the crowd weren’t really pushing, but they couldn’t help bumping into one another as they made their way along the narrow sidewalk. Street lights cast only a dim glow, but ahead the entrance to Westmount Arena was bathed in light, and David could see excited faces. He found himself getting enthusiastic, too, as he walked among the noisy gathering. But David and his father went right