The Bear in a Muddy Tutu Read Online Free Page A

impossibly white face of her youngest son.
    “ Is he dead , Mom ? ” Billy Wayne asked in a hushed voice, crowding against her shoulder to look down at his brother. His throat was raspy and dry , and it hurt to swallow. His brother looked like a sleeping doll, except th at his eyes were open just a little bit. Billy Wayne had a sudden urge to reach down and push them closed but was afraid to touch him.
    “Yes, th at’s right, ” she answered . A pair of seagulls circled overhead, probably ch ecking to see if there might be an early breakfast down there.
    “You want me to put him in the hole? ”
    “Yes, put him in the hole. ” S h e co ver ed the baby’s face back up. “Put him all the way down , re al careful. ”
    Billy Wayne did as he was told, laying his baby brother at the bottom of the hole, on top of the wet clay, small avalanches of sand cascading over the sides as he worked. The baby fit perfectly at the bottom, without any cramming, and Billy Wayne was relieved about that. He’d feared having to bend his little brother to make him fit.
    “Go ahead. ” H is mother indicat ed she wanted him to push the sand down and fill the hole.
    “ What do we do now ? ” Billy Wayne asked, but she was already turning away, struggl ing to her feet. “Momma? ”
    “You just finish up . ”
    Billy Wayne hurriedly pushed the sand into the hole, not wanting to be left alone out there by that dark ocean and all that sand. He was almost in a panic as he swept the last bit flat, jumped to his feet and started running back toward where he thought his mom would be. His feet kicked up sandy rooster tails as he made his legs go as fast as they could. The feeling of sinking started to overwhelm him. The sens ation of being pulled down by the sand, or something underneath the sand, drew ye lping cries from the little boy, who was terrified of be ing sucked down and buried like his brother.
    The seagulls continued circling overhead.
    Whenever Billy Wayne was forced to endure sand, unpleasant visions of that night came back to haunt him. The mature, grown - up Billy Wayne, who knew sand was just sand, pushed thoughts of that dark night away, as he trudged through the deep white granules toward the lone figure of a boy he’d spotted on today’s new mission.
    “You got a dollar, mi ster? ”
    Billy Wayne had parked his Dart in the sandy lot of the Barnegat Light at the very northern tip of Long Beach Island. He wore his best suit and carried an important looking yel low legal pad recommended in step number seventeen of his book. The pad was to convey a sense of importance and substance to a prospective disciple. If not for some important reason, why else would someone be carrying a legal pad? A pen or pencil was optional.
    “Fifty cents? ” the boy tried again. Billy Wayne steered toward him, fishing in his pockets as he slowly approached, legal pa d tucked beneath his double chin . B ut the only money he had on him was the wad of tens in his wal let and whatever was stuffed one sock , sometimes cramping the muscles in the arch of his foot . His heart raced at this unexpected opportunity, and he could feel the sweat glands in his armpits go into overdrive. He’d studied up on suggestions for peeling what the book called Odd Ducks away from the pack, but had only had time to glance at the section on Lone Ducks. He had read that even though loners might seem like easier targets, they tended to have their guard up in anticipation of fending off the mean people who were always just around the next corner preparing to hurt them. People at the edges of larger groups, trying but failing to fit in, were much more approachable. They wanted more than anything to be accepted into just about any group . These people m ight seem a bit dim, but their eyes were wide open, and they were drawn to any smile that welcomed them like moths to a bare bulb. These people longed to be pulled into something bigger than themselves ; they were