The Turtle Warrior Read Online Free Page B

bronze.
    “Not bad.” James shifted the turtle back to his right hand.
    “I’ll buy it from you.” Ernie reached into his back pocket.
    “Ten bucks!” Terry suddenly demanded. For a few precious moments Bill thought Ernie was going to reach out of his truck window and grab Terry by his greased-down hair. His heart beat faster. Maybe, Bill thought with no small amount of joy, he’ll slam his head into the door. Bill looked up at James. His brother had that cocky look on his face that really meant that he was scared.
    “Okay,” Ernie answered coolly, “ten bucks it is.”
    He got out of his truck and handed the ten-dollar bill to James instead of Terry. James extended the hand holding the turtle’s tail toward Ernie.
    “Wait.”
    Ernie grabbed some tarpaulin from the bed of the truck. He lined the floor on the passenger side with it. Then he took hold of the turtle hanging from James’s hand by both sides of her shell and placed the almost dead animal on top of the tarpaulin. After stepping onto the running board, Ernie swung back into truck’s cab and started the engine. He looked back at the silent boys.
    “Billy,” he said, hooking his thumb toward Bill, “how’d you like to come over for supper? Rosemary would love to have you.”
    Bill looked at his brother. James wasn’t cocky anymore. He dropped his head and stared at his boots. “Go ahead,” he mumbled to Bill. “I’ll tell Mom where you are.”
    Bill hesitated. Ernie reached over to open the passenger side door. Bill walked slowly around the front of the truck.
    “Better take care of that thumb. It looks pretty nasty,” Ernie commented to James as Bill climbed into the truck; he kept his feet on the seat instead of resting them on the snapper’s back. Then Ernie revved the engine, and the truck rolled forward. Bill twisted his head around to stare out the cab window. Just above the brown dust of the road, he saw James’s startled face staring after them, his other hand holding the bitten thumb.

    When they pulled up close to the yellow farmhouse, Bill saw Rosemary Morriseau’s face appear in the kitchen window. She vigorously waved when she saw that Bill was in the truck too.
    “Rose! We’ve got company for dinner!” Ernie called from the open window of the truck. Bill got out and walked around to Ernie’s side.
    “Billy!”
    Rosemary Morriseau flung open the screen door and almost skipped down the porch steps. She reached forward and hugged him, his face nestled just under her breasts. Bill’s guilt at leaving James washed away in the luxury of her hug and smile. He could not recall a time when his mother greeted him the way Rosemary Morriseau did, nor did his mother smell like her. He pressed his nose into the bottom crest of her ribs and inhaled. She wore lily of the valley perfume and that other smell of her body. He could not name it. He only knew it as her smell. It gave him joy and made him feel safe.
    “Dinner will be ready in forty-five minutes,” she said, stepping back and ruffling his hair.
    “We’ll be in the house in a bit.”
    Rosemary ruffled his hair again before stepping back inside the house to finish cooking dinner. Bill hoisted himself over the tailgate to sit in the box of the truck. Ernie drove the truck to the back of the barn. He got out of the driver’s side, walked around the front of the truck, opened the passenger side door, and lifted the turtle out of the truck. Bill swung himself over the tailgate and onto the ground. He watched as Ernie placed the turtle on a small bed of straw. The snapper clawed the loose straw but could not lift her head. One glassy eye seemed riveted on Bill’s face.
    “What did James do to her jaws?”
    “Terry too!”
    “Terry too,” Ernie echoed, and then repeated, “What did they do to her jaws?”
    Bill didn’t know if he could say. “Our neighbors don’t need to know what goes on in our home,” his mother always said, looking at Bill and James nervously after