Every Day After Read Online Free Page A

battle alone?
           Remember—at ‘Wits’ End Corner’
           Is just where God’s power is shown.”
    I must’ve done Mama proud with my voice, because Ben sat silent for a few seconds after I finished. He nodded slowly. “I like it,” he said. “I wish you knew the rest.”
    “Me too. Maybe I can find it later. Anyway, that’s pretty much how I feel, but if God’s gonna show His power, I wish He’d hurry up and do it already. Me and Mama need Daddy back home.”
    “Awww, Lizzie. I know you want your daddy here, but you’ll make it till he comes back.”
    Ben stood and dusted the seat of his britches. He grabbed his slingshot and began mindlessly snapping the band. I pulled at the grass waiting for the snap—the snap that came along with some brilliant idea. Well, brilliant coming from Ben.
    A few minutes of peace later— SNAP! “I got it!” he yelled, his near invisible brows shooting high up his freckled forehead. He snatched my pole off the ground and shoved it into my hands. “Catch him,” he commanded.
    I eyed Ben, trying to understand what he meant.
    “Don’t sit there like a blasted block of ice. Catch him. Catch ol’ One-Eye. Ain’t a soul ever caught that fish butyou, Lizzie Hawkins, not even your daddy. Do everything you did before, even though he ain’t here this time. If you can do that, you can do anything.”
    “That’s crazy. That won’t tell me anything.”
    Ben smiled. “Sure it will. Kinda like a sign. I never did tell ya what happened the first time I had to plow after Pa passed. I was too embarrassed to say anything, but it’ll show ya what I mean.”
    I nodded.
    “Well, I was pretty nervous. I was worried to death that ol’ Jack’d take off and drag me behind the plow or, even worse, that I couldn’t get him hitched up in the first place. So I put an old tin can up on a fence post, pulled out my slingshot, and told myself if I shot that can off ten times in a row from a fair distance, I could plow without Pa. I figured shootin’ that can would be harder than plowing.”
    I eased in closer to Ben. “Did you do it?”
    “Sure did. Pretty as you please.”
    “Did you get the field plowed?”
    “Oh, I got the field plowed, all right, but …” Ben’s smile faded.
    “Well, you gonna tell me or not?”
    He cleared his throat and mumbled, “I plowed off my big toenail doing it.”
    I jumped up from my cozy spot in the grass. “Ben! So that’s why you fished with your shoes on back then. Why didn’t you just tell me that before when I asked? And whatare you saying now? That I’ll catch One-Eye again, but I’ll end up with a hook jabbed through my finger?”
    “No, I ain’t sayin’ that. Look, I did it, didn’t I? Shootin’ the can was a test. That’s what this is for you—a test. Can’t hurt to try.”
    I was shocked at myself for believing Ben’s fiddle-faddle enough to try it, but it sounded right. If I could catch that fish again without Daddy here, I was nearly certain I could do whatever else I set my mind to, including keeping myself out of the orphanage and Mama safe. Then I’d be able to leave Wits’ End Corner once and for all. It might sound pretty in a poem, but it surely was not a fun place to be.
    I clutched my locket and pictured Daddy’s face. Please, God , I begged. Please let me pass this test .

  Four  
    Luck Follows the Hopeful, Ill Luck the Fearful
    I leaned my head back, feeling the warmth of the sun. I squeezed my eyes tight. Colors and light flashed beneath my eyelids. Gradually, the colors became shapes and the shapes became people, forming clear images of me and Daddy on that muggy morning last August.
    Daddy insisted it was too hot to fish, but I wouldn’t listen. Christmas, candy, even Goo Goo Clusters paled in comparison to fishing with Daddy, and a little heat wasn’t gonna stop me.
    “Please. Just for an hour,” I begged. “The fish’d be good for supper.”
    “Oh, all right, Lizzie.” He propped