Free Summer of the Redeemers by Carolyn Haines Page B

bicycle and now it’s ruined.” I was about to cry, thinking about the trouble Alice would be in if her bike was sitting in a heap in her front yard. Mrs. Waltman was known to slap first and never listen. With ten kids she wanted results, not excuses, as she said.
    “Arly said he thought he could put it back together.”
    “Really?” My beautiful bike, whole and wonderful again. “Alice’s too?”
    “If all the parts are there.” Arly spoke over his shoulder, his hands in the sink. “It’s going to cost you,” he mouthed at me so that no one else could hear.
    “I’ll bet the child is starved,” Mama Betts said. She reached into the oven and brought out a plate of food.
    I was famished. My ribs ached I was so hungry. Fried chicken, rice and gravy and crowder peas. Without okra. I was the fault of that, but I picked up the fork Mama Betts gave me and dug in.
    “Look at her scarf her food,” Arly said. “Maybe there’s a contest we can enter her in.”
    “Chew your food, Bekkah,” Effie said automatically. “And swallow that mouthful and tell us where you’ve been.”
    I chewed for a long time. “I was hoping whoever took the bikes would leave them along the road. Like a prank and all. So I was downthe road, sort of along the fence rows.” Even though it wasn’t a complete lie, my eyes wouldn’t lift from my plate.
    “Did it ever occur to you that I would have taken you in the car?”
    “I wanted to find it myself.”
    “Little Miss Independence.” Mama Betts put a slice of hot cornbread on my plate. Her knuckles brushed across my arm. “You were always that way, Bekkah. Headstrong and determined to have your way. It’s going to cost you one of these days. Gonna cost all of us.”
    Guilt mixed in with my fond desire to save my hide. Mama Betts had been worried sick. She never threatened unless she’d been badly scared. “I’m sorry, Grandma.”
    “You can’t help your nature, child. That’s something you’re going to have to learn. And that stubborn streak is gonna cost you plenty in the future.” She kissed the crown of my head. “Yes, ma’am, like I said, that streak is gonna cost you, and yet it may be the thing that holds you up in the worst of times. That’s what you learn when you get old. There’s a blessing and a curse in everything. Just like loving you children. It brings me my greatest pleasure and worst pain.”
    Not even Arly had anything wise to say after that. I felt about as big as a sun-baked cow pie. Even the fried chicken had lost its taste. I chewed on, determined to finish or Arly would comment.
    “When you finish, we’ll call your father.” Effie took a seat beside me at the table.
    I pushed my plate back. It was silly to pretend I wasn’t upset. I could see that Effie had been crying. Mama Betts had been worried sick, and Daddy was probably pacing the office of his strange house in Missouri. All of this misery brought on because … because I’d ridden a horse. The thought of Cammie touched me like a gentle hand.
    We dialed the university where Daddy was living in some faculty housing for visiting teachers. It didn’t even ring one good time before he snatched up the phone.
    “Daddy, it’s Bekkah.”
    “Then you’re safe. When Effie told me about the bicycle, I was afraid …”
    What could possibly have made him so afraid on Kali Oka Road? Parents had a way of worrying all out of proportion to what was going on.
    After we talked a few minutes and he finally believed I wasn’t hurt at all, his mind started working again.
    “Who took the bicycle, Bekkah?”
    Somehow, a thousand miles away, he knew that I knew more than I was telling.
    “I’m not certain.” I didn’t know their names.
    “Listen to me, girl. Whatever mischief you’re up to, don’t you ever worry your mother that way again.”
    “I was right on Kali Oka. I didn’t go anywhere—”
    “Rebekah, you’re old enough to begin to understand. You have a responsibility to me and Effie