Thirteenth Child Read Online Free Page B

about something.
    “Not really,” she answered. “Why?”
    “There was more stuff about that guy who ripped off the drugstore. You didn’t hear it?”
    “No.” Kate forced herself to sound bored, as if she couldn’t care less, but her heart started to pound. She braced herself for whatever Barney was about to say next, but he fell silent. She looked sideways at him. He was biting his lip and looking out the window.
    What’s with him? Kate thought. Just then Melanie Davis poked her head around from the seat behind them.
    “He’s left-handed! He held the knife in his left hand—that’s what they said.”
    Barney flushed a dark red and suddenly made a great show of looking through his backpack for a book. Kate grinned. She’d long suspected him of having a crush on Melanie—looked as if she was right. And then she stiffened. In her mind she saw Mike dumping worms into tubs. With his left hand.
    Two nights later Kate sat at the counter, notepad in front of her, immersed in a new story. One of a collection of stories, this was to be. Mr. Evansprobably wouldn’t approve—they were definitely not based on anything resembling her own life—but she couldn’t care less. He was never going to see them. When the door opened, she didn’t pay any attention. Angie was there; she could handle it. “Hi.”
    She looked up and her heart made a dive for somewhere around her kneecaps. Mike was standing right over her.
    “Hi,” she managed. She looked for her mother, but Angie was busy sweeping. She looked tired and was probably in a hurry to get finished and back to her TV.
    “What are you doing?” Mike’s voice was friendly, his eyes had lost their coldness. He seemed relaxed, looked better. As if he’d been eating and sleeping more lately. He twisted his head around to see her notebook.
    “Tales by a Thirteenth Child,”
he read.
“By Kate Halston.
You? A thirteenth child?”
    Kate snatched the book away. “Yes,” she answered shortly. “Sort of.”
    “You are no such thing!” Angie’s indignant voice broke in. “You’re an only child and you know it. Whatever’s gotten into you, Kate?”
    Kate felt as if she were on fire from the inside. “I said sort of, Mom,” she muttered. “You know…. Grandma was a thirteenth child….”
    “So what’s that got to do with you, I’d like to know?”
    “Grandma used to tell stories all the time,remember? And remember, she said it was because she was a thirteenth child?”
    She turned to Mike. “Thirteenth children are gifted that way, she said. Or cursed. Depending on which way you look at it, she said. It’s just something they have to do. I was really close to her and I’m like that, I feel just that way. I even look like her—everybody says so ….” The rush of words died and her voice petered out.
    What in the world am I saying, she thought. And to this guy, of all people. He’s going to kill himself laughing at me. To her surprise his face stayed serious.
    “Like … like her spirit’s in you, you mean?”
    Kate stared at him, mute with astonishment.
    Angie leaned her broom on the counter and sagged down onto one of the stools with a sigh.
    “Hogwash,” she said. “Just hogwash and you know it, Kate Halston. Good excuse to get out of work.”
    Kate bridled. With the amount of TV Angie watched, and one excuse after another, Kate worked far more than she did.
    “My feet are killing me,” Angie moaned. “I’m going into the back. Close up, Kate.” She pushed open the swing door. “Thirteenth child, my Aunt Fanny’s foot,” she grumbled. “What next?”
    “Can I read it?” Mike asked, reaching for the notebook.
    “No way!” Kate stuffed it out of sight onto a shelf under the counter.
    “Don’t see the point of writing stories you won’t let anybody read,” Mike replied. “Never mind,” he went on quickly, seeing the look on Kate’s face. “I just came by to ask if you wanted more worms. Do you?”
    “Yes. We sold out