The Memory Thief Read Online Free

steampot.”
    On the stove sat two of the largest pots Hannah had ever seen. She watched as Cora filled them with water and seasonings, then laid coils of sausage, little new potatoes, and halved ears of corn inside.
    “I’ll let that get to cookin’,” she said. “Then later I’ll add shrimp, mussels, and oysters. It don’t take but a minute for
     that stuff to cook. When the shrimp pinks up and the mussels open, it’s time to spoon it out.”
    Cora rang the dinner bell, a rusted old cowbell that hung from the ceiling on a rope. She gave it three sharp bangs, then
     motioned for Hannah to bring her some buckets. As she filled them, Hannah smelled the ocean.
    “Well, we’re set now,” Cora said, taking two buckets to carry. She motioned for Sissy and Hannah to pick up two as well.
    Five picnic tables, gray with age, sat in a half-moon shape. The tables were interesting enough, with holes cut in the middle
     of each and trash cans beneath the holes for people to toss shells into. But what really caught Hannah’s eye that evening
     was the tree.
    Hannah had noticed them in the distance before, but she’d never been so close to an old twisted live oak. Not like the oak
     trees of her home, with straight trunks and mitten-shaped leaves. Live oaks were different. With thick squatted trunks, and
     massive branches writhing and coiling out. Like the way a small child would draw a tree with scribbled curly lines. Most were
     veiled. Draped with sheets of Spanish moss, gray and weeping. Antiquing the trees to match the town, like another dusty Civil
     War relic.
    “Quit gapin’ at that snake tree and drop them buckets down so you can go get more,” Sissy yelled.
    Hannah jumped, set her buckets down and returned to the kitchen for more. She carried buckets out, two by two, and collected
     money from everyone that Sissy told her wasn’t staying in the motel. But she kept her eye on the tree. And decided that Sissy
     was right. It looked like snakes. Dozens of them curling out from a center nest. Except the tree was beautiful, in a way that
     snakes would never be.
    Once the tables were full, some ate on the hoods of their cars, pulled as close to the shade of the oak as they could get.
     Cora went from person to person, saying hello and asking about family and friends. The whole service took forty-five minutes.
     From tossing the raw shrimp in the pot to serving the last table.
    “Only do it once a day, same time every day,” said Cora. “I ain’t never been nobody’s short-order cook. They can eat what
     I fixed when I fixed it or not. I started it to feed my travelers anyhow. But turned out the locals were hungry, too.”
    “C’mon, Hannah,” Sissy called out. “Number Six checked out a couple hours ago. I’ll show you how to git the room ready.”
    Hannah followed her inside the motel and down the skinny hallway.
    “No maid cart. You gotta carry your own supplies and haul the trash and laundry out. But when folks are stayin’ here, ain’t
     much to do for the daily cleanin’. Just make their beds and wipe down the sinks and such. It’s when they check out that the
     room gets a good goin’ over. And we treat for roaches and sand fleas at every checkout. This is a clean motel. But that don’t
     mean some of our travelers ain’t draggin’ in their own bugs.”
    There was a locked closet in the middle of the hall. Sissy took a key from her pocket and opened it to reveal shelves of bleach,
     a vacuum, glass cleaner, trash bags, and pesticide spray. She pulled out the bleach and gave it to Hannah with a pair of long
     gloves.
    “Best git the worst part out of the way,” she said, nodding toward a toilet brush. Hannah pulled her gloves on, trying to
     look confident.
    “Let me know when you’ve finished that. Shouldn’t be too bad, just a man. Much worse with families. The things kids can do
     to a bathroom would shock most folks. And try not to get bleach on your T-shirt. Only extra one we