Once Upon a Summer Read Online Free
They went on to the next neighbor and I went back up the stairs.
A sick feelin’ in my stomach was spreadin’ all through me. We were an unusual family, I knew that, but we belonged together. We fit somehow, and I guess I was foolish enough to somehow believe that things would always stay that way. Suddenly, with no warnin’, everything was now about to change. Jest like that, I was to trade Auntie Lou for an old tottery great-grandfather that I had never seen. It sure didn’t seem like much of a trade.
I started going to my room and then changed my mind. I couldn’t resist going on down the hall to the end room where Auntie Lou slept. I paused at her door which was open just a crack. I could hear her soft breathin’. I pushed the door gently and eased myself into the room. The moon cast enough light through the window so that I could see clearly Auntie Lou’s face. She was pretty! I had never thought about it before. I had never stopped to ask the question nor to look for the answer. She was Auntie Lou. She was jest always there. I’d never had to decide what she was to me. Now that I might be losing her I realized that she was everything— the mother I’d never known, a big sister, a playmate, my best friend. Auntie Lou was all of these and more, wrapped up in one neat little five-foot-three package.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, but I couldn’t keep the tears from runnin’ down my cheeks. I brushed them away feelin’ angry with myself.
There she slept, so peaceful-like, while downstairs two old men were deciding who she would spend the rest of her life with; and Lou was so easy goin’ that they’d likely get away with it. Unless . . .
I backed slowly out of the door and tip-toed to my room, makin’ sure I missed the spot that always squeaked. Down below the voices droned on. I shut my door tight against them and crawled back under the covers. I realized suddenly jest how tired I was. I pulled the blankets right up to my chin.
Somehow there had to be a way I could stop this. Somehow! It wasn’t gonna be easy; it was gonna take a lot of thinkin’, but surely if I worked it over in my mind enough I’d find some way.
My thoughts began to get foggy as I fought sleep. I’d have to figure it all out later. Then a new idea flashed through my mind—prayer. I’d already said my evenin’ prayers as Auntie Lou had taught me, but this one was extra. I’m not sure jest what I asked from God in my sleepy state, but I think that it went something like this:
“Dear God. You know what they’re plannin’ fer Auntie Lou, but I want to keep her. You didn’t let me keep my ma—or my pa. You didn’t even give me any memories. Now you gotta help me to find a way to stop this.
“And about Great-grandpa—maybe you could find him a new wife, even if he is old, so that he won’t need to come here. Or maybe he could die on the train comin’ out or somethin’. Anyway, please do what you can, God. You sorta owe me a favor after all you’ve taken from me. Amen.”
Satisfied that I had done what I could for the time bein,’ I crawled back into bed. I wasn’t sure that God would pay too much attention to my prayer, but anyway, I’d tried. Tomorrow I’d work on a plan so that I’d be ready on my own if God decided not to do anything for me.
I went to sleep with the voices from the kitchen risin’ and fallin’ as the two men sorted through their lists. I wondered if they had come up with anyone for the accepted side of the page yet. Then I rolled over and went to sleep.
C HAPTER 3
About Lou
T HAT HAD ALL TAKEN place yesterday. Somehow as I sat on my log it seemed long ago and hardly even real, yet at the same time, present and frightenin’. I had to worry it through and find a solution.
Again, as I had in times past, I wished that I had a dog. Somehow it seemed that jest the presence of something with me would make the whole thing easier to handle. Well, I didn’t have a dog, so I’d jest have
A sick feelin’ in my stomach was spreadin’ all through me. We were an unusual family, I knew that, but we belonged together. We fit somehow, and I guess I was foolish enough to somehow believe that things would always stay that way. Suddenly, with no warnin’, everything was now about to change. Jest like that, I was to trade Auntie Lou for an old tottery great-grandfather that I had never seen. It sure didn’t seem like much of a trade.
I started going to my room and then changed my mind. I couldn’t resist going on down the hall to the end room where Auntie Lou slept. I paused at her door which was open just a crack. I could hear her soft breathin’. I pushed the door gently and eased myself into the room. The moon cast enough light through the window so that I could see clearly Auntie Lou’s face. She was pretty! I had never thought about it before. I had never stopped to ask the question nor to look for the answer. She was Auntie Lou. She was jest always there. I’d never had to decide what she was to me. Now that I might be losing her I realized that she was everything— the mother I’d never known, a big sister, a playmate, my best friend. Auntie Lou was all of these and more, wrapped up in one neat little five-foot-three package.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, but I couldn’t keep the tears from runnin’ down my cheeks. I brushed them away feelin’ angry with myself.
There she slept, so peaceful-like, while downstairs two old men were deciding who she would spend the rest of her life with; and Lou was so easy goin’ that they’d likely get away with it. Unless . . .
I backed slowly out of the door and tip-toed to my room, makin’ sure I missed the spot that always squeaked. Down below the voices droned on. I shut my door tight against them and crawled back under the covers. I realized suddenly jest how tired I was. I pulled the blankets right up to my chin.
Somehow there had to be a way I could stop this. Somehow! It wasn’t gonna be easy; it was gonna take a lot of thinkin’, but surely if I worked it over in my mind enough I’d find some way.
My thoughts began to get foggy as I fought sleep. I’d have to figure it all out later. Then a new idea flashed through my mind—prayer. I’d already said my evenin’ prayers as Auntie Lou had taught me, but this one was extra. I’m not sure jest what I asked from God in my sleepy state, but I think that it went something like this:
“Dear God. You know what they’re plannin’ fer Auntie Lou, but I want to keep her. You didn’t let me keep my ma—or my pa. You didn’t even give me any memories. Now you gotta help me to find a way to stop this.
“And about Great-grandpa—maybe you could find him a new wife, even if he is old, so that he won’t need to come here. Or maybe he could die on the train comin’ out or somethin’. Anyway, please do what you can, God. You sorta owe me a favor after all you’ve taken from me. Amen.”
Satisfied that I had done what I could for the time bein,’ I crawled back into bed. I wasn’t sure that God would pay too much attention to my prayer, but anyway, I’d tried. Tomorrow I’d work on a plan so that I’d be ready on my own if God decided not to do anything for me.
I went to sleep with the voices from the kitchen risin’ and fallin’ as the two men sorted through their lists. I wondered if they had come up with anyone for the accepted side of the page yet. Then I rolled over and went to sleep.
C HAPTER 3
About Lou
T HAT HAD ALL TAKEN place yesterday. Somehow as I sat on my log it seemed long ago and hardly even real, yet at the same time, present and frightenin’. I had to worry it through and find a solution.
Again, as I had in times past, I wished that I had a dog. Somehow it seemed that jest the presence of something with me would make the whole thing easier to handle. Well, I didn’t have a dog, so I’d jest have
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