The Miracle Stealer Read Online Free Page A

wanted to know if people had their own beds in heaven, why God made villains, where the angels in his dreams went when he was awake. This curiosity made him seem old and wise, despite his innocent brown eyes, despite the freckles that spotted both cheeks. When he was little, I would pretend to count those freckles, telling him each one was from an angel’s kiss.
    Picking up on my hesitation, Daniel repeated, “Right?” Now he was looking deep into my face. Explaining my thoughts on Superman was a lot easier than explaining my thoughts on Jesus, which had changed quite a bit over the years. Besides, why would I share my doubts and complicate his perfect faith?
    I stood up and crossed to the doorway. The hall was empty, just shiny tiles and an abandoned gurney. Over the loudspeaker, a voice asked Dr. Armstrong to report to Radiology. There was a Code 76.
    I turned back to my brother. “If Lex Luthor brainwashed Superman into being evil and Jesus showed up, he’d unbrainwash him back into his normal self and they wouldn’t have to fight.”
    Daniel considered my solution and nodded his head. “Awe-some.” He folded up the comic book and set it on the cushion where I’d been sitting. “Hey, Andi, how come there aren’t any fish in the fish tank?” He hopped down and walked over to an aquarium set in the wall beneath the staticky TV. I hadn’t noticed the absence of fish until Daniel pointed it out, and even when I joined him for a closer inspection, we couldn’t see any signs of life in the murky water. I wondered if they got the water from Paradise Lake, a thought that made me scan the surface for floaters.
    â€œMaybe they’re microscopic fish,” Daniel offered.
    I smiled down at him. “Could be they’re on their fishy lunch break.”
    â€œI think they’re just invisible.” Daniel laughed, and just like always the sound made me relax a bit. Once his laughter fell away, the only sound was the low bubbling murmur of that aquarium filter. We stood there, quiet for a long time, I guess. Finally, still gazing into the empty water, my brother said, “Hey, Andi, how come you’re mad at me?”
    I knelt down and cupped his shoulders, wondering how long he’d been waiting to ask this particular question. “I’m not mad at you, Little Man. Nobody’s mad at you.”
    He stared at the gray carpet. “Well then, how come you’re mad at Mom?”
    I winced. In the two days since the birth of the Abernathy baby, my mother and I had avoided each other altogether. Mostly she stayed in the main cabin and I did routine maintenance around the grounds, replacing a busted window in Cabin One, trimming back some rhododendrons trying to take over Cabin Three. Daniel had tuned in to the tension and kept to himself, rereading his comicsand constructing a Lego spaceship from a kit my mother picked up for him at Cohler’s. Finally, I made up a diplomatic answer. “We just don’t always see things the same way.”
    Daniel rocked on his heels. He lifted his face so his brown eyes came into mine. “You guys are fighting about that baby girl.”
    It was always hard to hide things from Daniel, and even harder to lie outright to him. “Mom loves you and I love you. That’s all you need to worry about.” After a pause, I added, “Just remember, you ain’t special , right?”
    It’d been three years since I uttered this phrase, a kind of magical incantation I spoke with the same reverent tone I once reserved for solemn prayer, but Daniel seemed to recall it and nodded earnestly. “I ain’t special,” he repeated, just like he used to. He looked a little sad.
    You might think I’m a crappy sister for telling my kid brother that kind of thing, but before you judge me, you better hear about Mrs. Bundower. She was a sweet lady and the best seamstress in town, always the first