Free Diann Ducharme by The Outer Banks House (v5)

take his own way in life in spite of his family trade and his father’s wishes. I soaked up every last word, and thirsted for more after she closed the book for the day. The sound of her voice, mixed with all those big words, sure did agree with me.
    What I took to be her younger brother and sister came scampering up the porch to see what we were up to. The little redheaded Sinclairs stared at me with three bright hazel eyes—the fourth one was covered by an eye patch.
    “You’re Mister Whimble, aren’t you? My sister’s told us about you,” said the little gal, skinny as a twig, even with that dripping wet bathing uniform pulling on her. “She was right—you sure are dirty!”
    Miss Sinclair’s hands flew to her mouth, and she said, “Phhsssh, I said no such thing, Martha!”
    “Why, yes, ma’am, I am. Mister Whimble at your service. But you can call me Ben. That’s what my friends call me.”
    “I’m Miss Martha Anne Sinclair, I’m ten and a half years old, and I can read big books and write in cursive like Abigail, and this here is—”
    The boy elbowed Martha out of the way. “I got a mouth. I can talk, too! I’m Master Charles Aaron Sinclair, and I’m six years old, and I can read, too, and I don’t care to learn cursive writing!” he said real loud, sticking out his hand to shake with me.
    “Say, I sure do like your eye patch.”
    He cackled and sliced the air a few times too many with an imaginary sword. “Do I scare you?”
    “Oh, yeah. I wouldn’t stand a chance if it came to a duel. Let’s just be comrades.”
    He grinned, then lifted the eye patch to look at me. “Is it true you can’t read nor write? I didn’t believe Abby when she said that.”
    “It’s true. There ain’t no schools out here, nor teachers, neither. Can you all read and write?”
    Their eyes about popped out of their heads. “Sure we can! Watch us!”
    Martha started to read straight out of
Robinson Crusoe
, and Charlie began to write all over the slate with the chalk. What he wrote, I had no notion. But it sure was a sight, watching the two of them. The louder Martha read, the more Charlie squeaked the chalk.
    I liked them already. I said, “Hey, now, I got a grand idea. How about you all come to the horse penning on Independence Day?Bring the whole family, and your friends, too. It’s a real fun time. The whole island goes. I’ll be there, corralling the ponies.”
    The younguns clapped their hands and hollered, “Pony penning! Yee-haw!”
    “That sounds like fun,” said Miss Sinclair.
    “Well, plan on it, why don’t you. But I’ve got to skedaddle now. I’m taking my gal to a frolic tonight, and I got to wash up. Ain’t that right, Martha?”
    Martha laughed loud, and Charlie said, “Don’t do it, Ben. Let’s be dirty!”
    I mussed up his red hair and looked to Miss Sinclair, feeling shy.
    “I-I want to thank you,” I stammered out. I wanted to say more to her, but after all that book learning, words of my own were hard to come by.
    “You’re welcome. And please, you can call me Abigail. Miss Sinclair is my mama!”
    I wasn’t used to hearing her laugh. It was a good bit louder than I thought it would be, her being such a lady and all. It really set me to wondering on what else she had stored up inside her.

CHAPTER FIVE
    Abigail Sinclair

July 4, 1868
    Accordingly I went, and found [the goat] where I left it; for, indeed, it could not get out, but almost starved for want of food. I went and cut boughs of trees, and branches of such shrubs as I could find, and threw it over; and having fed it, I tied it as I did before, to lead it away. But it was so tame with being hungry that I had no need to have tied it, for it followed me like a dog; and as I continually fed it, the creature became so loving, so gentle, and so fond, that it became from that time one of my domestics also, and would never leave afterwards
.
    —R OBINSON C RUSOE

    T HE LARGE WHITE SCHOONER SLICED THROUGH THE LIQUID GREEN