The Mask That Sang Read Online Free

stubborn little white and green house was ahead of them. But now, Cass thought, it was saying “Finally!” as if it had been waiting forever for them to get there.
    Mom managed to turn the cube van into the driveway and crawled toward the house before jerking on the brakes, sending them both forward as if they were bowing to the house.
    Cass snorted with laughter.
    Mom shot her a look, exhaled loudly, and turned off the engine.
    A minute later, Cass unlocked the door to the little blue kitchen.
    â€œOur kitchen,” she said out loud. “Our sink, our cupboards, our countertops. Our fridge.”
    â€œOur kitchen stuff,” Mom said, puffing and dumping a box on the floor. “Come on, there’s lots more to go!”
    Cass helped Mom lift out bags and suitcases. They piled them on the lawn next to the flower garden. Although it wasn’t a hot day, sweat was soon pouring down Cass’s forehead.
    â€œHello! I’ve brought you some water.”
    It was a man’s voice, cheerful and hearty. He was striding across the lawn from the house next door, wearing faded jeans and a T-shirt that said Super Teacher . He was carrying two glasses and grinning widely. “Thought I’d be the first to welcome you to the neighborhood.”
    Mom looked at him somewhat distrustfully, then smiled slightly and took a glass of water. Cass eagerly reached for the other one.
    â€œThanks,” Mom said, not looking him in the eye.
    â€œDon’t mention it.” He pointed to himself. “Dave Gregor.”
    Mom cleared her throat as if her voice suddenly wasn’t working right. “Denise Foster,” she mumbled, still looking past him. Then she was silent, gripping the glass of water and staring into it.
    â€œI’m Cass.”
    â€œWelcome!” If Mr. Gregor was taken aback at the unfriendliness of Mom’s behavior, he didn’t show it at all. “I just moved in right over there a couple of weeks ago, me and my bulldog, Bessie. She’s a mush head, but I thought I’d keep her inside till I found out if you liked dogs or not. She won’t bother you, I promise. Doesn’t bark much. Loves kids…” His voice ground down as he watched Mom’s face. “You don’t like dogs, do you?”
    â€œI don’t mind them,” Mom lied. Cass knew all about it. In one of the foster homes, there had been a German shepherd that used to corner Mom on the stairs and scared the living daylights out of her.
    â€œI’ll keep her out of your way,” Mr. Gregor promised. “Though she’s a really good girl. Honestly, she wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
    He looked around somewhat helplessly, as Mom was not really communicating back at all, although she was nodding at his words. His eyes hit on the pile of boxes and bags. “Here, let me help you with these.”
    â€œOh, no, we don’t need—” Mom was saying. But Mr. Gregor hoisted up a suitcase. He grinned down at Cass, who couldn’t help but like him. “Where do I put this?”
    â€œKitchen,” Cass said.
    â€œShow me the way, kid.”
    Mr. Gregor came back out to the van after he had dumped the first load. Mom was continuing to put things on the lawn and seemed to be very preoccupied with doing that.
    â€œSo, what do you do?” Mr. Gregor asked her, clearly determined to push ahead with a conversation even though—by the way Mom was acting—she had apparently forgotten that he was there. “Me, I teach at the elementary school down the street.” He indicated his shirt. “See? Super Teacher. The kids got me that a couple of years ago.”
    â€œMom’s—in between jobs,” Cass said.
    â€œJust for now,” Mom said to the box she was carrying. “Not for long.”
    â€œAny idea what kind of work you’re looking for? Maybe I can help, if you want to give me your résumé. I’ve taught a lot of kids and