Red Ruby Heart in a Cold Blue Sea (9781101559833) Read Online Free

at Bud. “You work on a lobster boat.” He looked at Dottie. “I’ve seen you around.” He nodded to me. “I’m Andy Barrington.”
    â€œI’m Florine Gilham,” I said.
    â€œPleased to meet you,” he said.
    â€œNow we got that out of the way,” Bud grumbled, “let’s go.”
    â€œYou mean we’re not going to . . . ,” Glen said.
    â€œNot going to what?” Andy asked. “What were you going to do?”
    â€œWe were going to set off some firecrackers under the front porch,” Glen said.
    â€œNo shit!” Andy said, his dark eyes shining. “Let’s do it.”
    â€œI’m game,” I said.
    â€œMe, too,” Dottie said. “We come this far.”
    We all looked at Bud. He shook his head, then, with no warning he sped across the driveway and slid around the right side of the house. Andy and I followed right after him and the three of us slipped beneath the porch. “If I say yes to Glen again, shoot me,” Bud growled as he pulled some loose firecrackers from his pockets, heaped them up, stuck a couple of birthday candles into the pile, and muttered, “Happy goddamn birthday.”
    Glen and Dottie squeezed through the gap on the other side of the porch. “You were supposed to do it my way,” Glen hissed.
    â€œYour way went out the window when he found us,” Bud said, jerking his head toward Andy, who knelt in the dirt beside me. “Let’s get this done.”
    Glen piled his crackers. Then he and Bud put more near the center of the porch until four good-sized firecracker hills were set to go. Above us, floorboards creaked and voices grew louder. Andy said, “I have matches. Need matches?”
    â€œWe got matches,” Glen said. “Florine, Dottie, Bud, get into position.” We each took up a post in front of a pile of firecrackers, then Glen said, “One, two, three,” and we all lit our candles. Dottie finished first. She bolted from beneath the porch, Bud and me close behind. We sped to the edge of the woods and waited for Glen. And waited.
    â€œWhere the hell is he?” Dottie said.
    The first pile went off. The noise was even louder than I’d expected. They snapped and snarled. Confused people poured from the porch. Another pile went off. A tongue of fire flickered its way from underneath the porch, and Glen bolted toward us, holding his hand and running as fast as he could go.
    A man on the lawn cried out, “There he is,” and started our way. I fell over Dottie, who scrambled up, pushed me down behind her, and left me sitting in the path. Bud hauled me into the bushes. Glen tore by us, the man hell-bent after him.
    â€œThe garden hose, get the hose,” someone on the lawn cried. A group of men grabbed a hose from the side of the cottage and soaked the fire climbing up the latticework. Smoke turned the air blue. Then a third group of crackers went off and people scattered back out of the porch light.
    The man who had chased Glen came from the woods and walked back toward the house. Another man met him. “Lose him?” he said. “Did you know who it was?”
    â€œIt was the boy from the general store. There was more than one of them, I think. Fishermen’s kids. I’m calling the sheriff.” He spat onto the grass. His hair was yellow, like Andy’s. They walked back toward the house. When the fourth pile of crackers went off, Bud and I ran like hell. We followed Bud’s flashlight to the edge of the woods near The Cheeks, where we found Dottie on the ground holding her right ankle. Glen rocked against a tree, holding his hand beneath his arm and hissing pain through his teeth.
    â€œJesus,” he said. “I’m burned bad.”
    â€œLet me see,” I said. Bud shone the flashlight as Glen held out his hand. Blisters were already bubbling up along his knuckles. “We got to get you some