Spirit Eyes Read Online Free Page B

them, and it was lonely. That was why she liked loud, happy conversation and playful banter during their meals. Stickin’ it to da man, in a way.
    Pearl, in her infinite babbling way, finally spoke up. “Mommy, me and my friends were sitting on the concrete at recess and Peter McMillan said he knew where babies came from. He said he heard his mom and dad moving around and making funny noises under the blankets one morning when they didn’t know he was there and his older brother told him later that they were making babies.”
    Ruth, stifling a giggle, looked over at Paul, who himself seemed on the verge of laughter.
    “What did you say to him?” Paul asked nonchalantly.
    “I told him he was as dumb as a doorknob. I told him that you guys already told me where babies come from and you don’t do it in bed making funny noises.”
    “Well, good for you, kiddo,” Ruth interjected.
    Completely loving this conversation, Lotus asked her sister, “So, smarty-pants, where do they come from?”
    “Duh…China, stupid, they come from China.”
    Lotus burst out laughing and shook her head.
    Pearl continued. “Billy Morton said everything is made in China now-a-days and that’s ‘zactly right. I was.”
    “Well, honey not all babies are made in China, some are made here, too,” Paul said.
    Ruth, wishing now to stop the conversation at hand, cleared her throat and asked Paul how his day went. He passed her the potatoes and smiled. “Okay, I guess, but I need a break. It’s a long weekend ahead. I’m thinking why don’t we go to the cottage? I’m sure the river’s frozen enough to skate.”
    Clink. That dreadful sound.
    “Hello? Am I talking to myself?” he asked.
    Lotus spoke up. “No, Daddy,” she said quietly. “I don’t like the cottage in the cold weather.”
    He gulped a glass of milk, put it down and smiled at Lotus. “It’s not cold when I turn on the space heaters and start a fire. It’s cozy. Come on. It’ll be fun.”
    Ruth contemplated this and came to the conclusion that a weekend away might be what her family needed.
    She came to Paul’s rescue. “Why not, girls? We can bring hot chocolate and even make our smack down, salacious, super fantastic smores .”
    “Wow, Mom,” Lotus said. “You never want to go to the cottage.”
    “I do, too.”
    “Uh uh,” she responded.
    Paul’s gaze moved toward Lotus. “Do you always have to be so argumentative, young lady?”
    “Yep,” Pearl answered for her. She tipped her head back and threw a crouton into her mouth.
    Paul picked a piece from his roll and threw it at her, which gave Pearl enough rope to scream, “Food fight.” She seized a handful of mashed potatoes and aimed.
    “Bull!” Ruth shouted. She grabbed Pearl’s wrist, lowered her hand and prayed silently for strength.
     
    That night, a Thursday, Ruth packed a few things for their long weekend. Their summer cottage, about an hour and a half drive away, was situated on the edge of the Vermilion River. Far enough away to feel they had left on a short holiday.
    With a suitcase on her bed and piles of clothes to go into it, she attempted the process neatly. A bit of a slob, Ruth envied people with Obsessive Compulsive Disorders as she put everyone’s clothes in their own pile, but soon, as always, started to throw things in haphazardly.
    Pearl came around the corner, newly showered, wearing a nightgown that read, Well Behaved Women Rarely Make History , a present from her aunt, and lay across the bed. She rolled onto her stomach and Ruth sensed she had something she wanted to talk about, so she pushed the suitcase aside and lay next to her. Gently, her arm around her daughter’s tiny waist, she pulled her close.
    “What is it, honey?”
    “I don’t like the people, Mommy.”
    “Who?” she asked, confused.
    “My people.”
    “Are you talking about the man in the driveway?”
    “Yeah.”
    Not sure what to say next, Ruth, always frightened of anything paranormal, wished she could