Under the Same Sky Read Online Free Page A

doable.
    Then Dad spoke up again. “Don’t forget, Uncle Sam has to get his share.”
    â€œShare of what?”
    â€œYour wages.”
    â€œYou’re kidding me!” I said. “People who make minimum wage have to pay taxes? Kids have to pay taxes?”
    Dad nodded. “The days when farmers could pay family members or anybody else under the table are gone. Your mother keeps the accounts, and she goes strictly by the book, right, Vivian?”
    â€œIt’s true, Joe.”
    I couldn’t believe this. I was almost afraid to ask. “How much?”
    Mom thought for a moment. “It’ll come to about thirty dollars a week. Maybe a little less.”
    I groaned and started my math all over again.
    Mom added brightly, “Of course, since you won’t make all that much total income, you’ll get your tax money back.”
    â€œWhen?” I asked.
    â€œAfter April 15th, next year,” she said, making a face. “Too late to help you with the motorbike, I guess.”
    â€œHey, Joe!” Meg said eagerly. “Don’t forget your allowance!”
    She looked so pleased that I couldn’t help but smile at her. I had forgotten about my allowance, which I got for taking out the garbage and making my bed and stuff like that.
    â€œGood thinking, Meggo,” I said, turning back to my figuring. “Okay…I’ll make two hundred seventy-nine a week, plus ten bucks allowance makes two hundred eighty-nine. It’s the end of June, so I’ll have enough by the end of July, and I’ll have the whole month of August and a week in September left. That’s not too bad.”
    LuAnn was still examining the catalog. “It says here it takes two to three weeks for shipping,” she said.
    I glanced at Mom. She was looking at Dad. When I saw his face, I didn’t even have to ask the question. He was shaking his head apologetically. “No, Joe. We can’t order it ahead of time. I made a rule a long time ago never to spend money I hadn’t earned yet. It’s one of the reasons we’re still making it when a lot of farmers have gone under.”
    â€œJim, it’s his birthday,” Mom said softly.
    Dad sighed. “I know that, Vivian, and I don’t appreciate being made to look like the bad guy in front of my children.”
    â€œNo one said that.” Mom got up to take some dishes over to the sink.
    â€œThe point is,” Dad said with another sigh, “there are hard lessons that everybody’s got to learn, having to do with money. And it seems to be Joe’s time to learn ’em.” He turned to me. “Joe, you clear on everything, or have you got more questions?”
    â€œWhat will I be doing tomorrow?”
    â€œSetting cabbage.”
    â€œI don’t know how,” I said. I wasn’t really worried, though. How hard could it be?
    â€œManuel’s been doing it for years,” said Dad. “He’ll show you everything you need to know.”
    Manuel again. I should have known. Just then, Mom came back to the table holding a cake flaming with fourteen candles.
    Happy Birthday to me.

4
    Making a guy get out of bed at six-thirty in the morning on the first day of summer vacation ought to be a crime. Mom and Dad were already up, and Mom had a big breakfast on the table: scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice. But my stomach just wasn’t ready for food at that hour of the morning. I slugged some juice and choked down a piece of toast, with Mom fussing the whole time about how I needed a good meal if I was going to be working all day.
    â€œI’ll be fine,” I assured her. Then she began asking if I had a hat, and had I put on sunscreen and mosquito repellent, and didn’t I want a jacket, and shouldn’t I take a water bottle. It was too much to think about; I wasn’t even awake. “Mom, don’t worry about it,” I pleaded.
    â€œYour