Legend of Buddy Bush (9781439131824) Read Online Free Page A

until morning. Both them Franklin boys are mean. Now if Grandpa even mentions their names, he’ll say, “Yes, evil and evil sleep in the same bed.”
    When Dr. Franklin finally checked on Grandpa just before day, he wrapped his head in some bandages and let him drive himself home. Well it turned out Grandpa had a brain concussion (whatever that is) and he drove his old red Ford right into a tree down on Brown Hill Road. Grandpa passed out and slept for hours. By seven in the morning, Grandma and Miss Doleebuck headed out on foot searching for their husbands. Yes, Mr. Charlie was in the cell next to Grandpa the night before for no reason at all. They just arrested him for coming to the jail to look for Grandpa.
    They released Mr. Charlie later on that day when Boogie’s mama, Fannie Mae, went down to that jail and cussed them out like they weren’teven white folks. Around 8:30 that morning, Grandma and Miss Doleebuck made it to Grandpa’s truck where he was still passed out. It took them a while to wake him up, and when they did they had to walk all the way home. Poor Grandpa started having blackouts after that and he never took another sip of moonshine. Been saved and sober ever since.
    The other thing Grandpa don’t know is Uncle Buddy told me that although he was little he remember the whole thing. He also don’t know that Uncle Buddy and some of his friends, Lennie, Hosea, and Earl, went out to town that next weekend and put holes in every Franklin car tire that they would find. They sure did. That’s what Uncle Buddy said and I believe him. Mercy to the highest, it’s nice to have all this grown folks business at twelve.
    I better stop thinking about all of this before I reach Jones Property because Grandma can read your mind. Now she is a piece of work. I swear that woman knows what I am thinking before I do. Smoke coming from the chimney in the kitchen atGrandma’s house and I know she has not put out the breakfast fire yet. Thank God, she’ll cook me some breakfast, I’m thinking, as I walk faster. I can’t make it till noon without food.
    That pleasant thought ends quickly when I find myself face to face with the bulls from Mr. Bay’s dairy. He is Grandpa and Grandma’s neighbor and compared to us, Mr. Bay is a rich man. Rich and mean. I don’t think he like colored folks very much and he laughs every time one of us forget and wear red while passing his terrifying bulls. Today that would be me. There is a big fence between me and the bulls, but I am still afraid to run, because I know they will run all the way down the fence with me. That alone scares me to death. Uncle Buddy walks by here whenever he wants to, wearing blue, red, whatever colors he please. He says, “I ain’t scared of no damn bull. I’m going to eat them for dinner one day. They ain’t going to eat me.”
    I can’t run if I want to since my dear sweet ma locked me out of the house in my bare feet. I want to stick my tongue out, but that’s red too.
    I walk in slow motion as the mama cows join thebulls at the edge of the dairy farm field. There must be fifty all together.
    I finally reach the path that divide Mr. Bay’s dairy from Jones Property. I am still nervous when I reach in my pockets and feel my new letter from BarJean. The bulls have scared me so bad that I almost forgot I had it. I stop at the pecan tree to catch my breath and to read my letter. Grandpa planted this tree forty-eight years ago for Ma. The day she was born. He calls it Mer’s tree. In the back there are trees for her sisters, the Louise tree and the Rosie tree. Yes, Uncle Buddy has a tree too, right over there at the pond. Since he ain’t blood kin, Grandpa just took Uncle Buddy for a walk when he was ten and let him pick out his own tree on Jones Property. The day I was born Ma said Grandpa went right outside and planted my tree. But the Pattie Mae tree ain’t big