Free The Great Snapping Turtle Adventure by Susan Yaruta-Young Page B

and fried chicken,” said Max.
    â€œMe too,” said Charles.
    â€œAnd I’m here for all the crab I can eat,” said Fred.
    â€œOk if we go get our drinks now?” asked Charles.
    â€œSure,” said Fred. “And when Miss Ruby comes back, I’ll give her your orders. Let me see if I got it right: that was muskrat stew with chopped chicken livers for you, Charles. And calves liver with onions and sweet kidney pie for you, Max. Right?”
    â€œUgh!”
    â€œUgh!!”
    â€œBut they’re here on the menu along with hog’s cheese, sauerkraut with pig’s tails, corn on the cob, and Burpee’s Big Daddy tomatoes,” teased Fred.
    â€œSome things we’ll skip,” said Max.
    Over by the soda chest, the boys found glass cases filled with an assortment of chewing tobacco, hunting knives, oyster shells, turkey feathers, pearls, salted sunflower seeds, old postcards, and photographs of local folk holding up anything from huge fish to giant pumpkins.
    On another wall were canned goods for sale, and farther back, on shelves above, were boxes of hunting boots, plastic bags with gray and red wool socks, and hats. Long leather shoelaces and belts hung on nails between the stacks. All for sale.
    â€œThis place is incredible,” said Max when they finally returned to their table with two sodas: one made in Maine, one in Florida.
    â€œI bet you could stay here for hours and still not see everything,” added Charles.
    â€œOnly Miss Ruby won’t let you stay hungry that long,” said Fred, gesturing with his hand toward the kitchen door, which was just opening. Out came Miss Ruby with a big tray of food carried high over her head.
    â€œThat’s us already?” Max asked in amazement.
    â€œWell, you boys said you were hungry,” exploded Miss Ruby in a short, cough-like laugh.
    â€œWow! That’s what I call service!” said Charles.
    â€œGreat,” was all Fred could add.
    â€œNow, you boys eat up and if there’s anything you need, just holler and me or one of the other girls will get it for you,” said Miss Ruby.
    â€œI think we’ll be just fine,” said Fred.
    For a long time, nobody spoke. Fred, Max, and Charles joined in with what the rest of Miss Ruby’s customers were doing: they ate, ate, ate.
    â€œI never tasted chicken this good!” said Max, finally looking up from his half-empty plate.
    â€œMe neither,” agreed Charles.
    â€œAnd these crab cakes! Fatter than baseballs and so light they feel like they could float all the way down to your stomach,” sighed Fred.
    â€œI don’t know how I’ll be able to eat dessert,” said Max.
    â€œWell, we could walk the ten miles back to Vienna, that might help us make room for more food,” said Fred.
    â€œYeah, sure. Crab all day. Eat. Then walk all night!” said Max. “We’d fall asleep on our feet after half a mile.”
    â€œAnd then we’d miss Miss Marie’s ghost stories,” said Charles.
    â€œWell, in that case, we better not walk home. I’m looking forward to hearing a few more ghosty Eastern Shore tales. I think every little town down here has its own ghost,” said Fred.
    â€œAnd if not a ghost, then at the very least a restaurant with a name like ‘Suicide Bridge,’” added Max.
    â€œYeah, what do you know about that, Fred?” asked Charles.
    â€œWell, the story goes this way. The old bridge over Secretary Creek was a favorite place for people to leap, when they were feeling very, very unhappy. So, when they put up a restaurant there, about 50 years ago, they decided to name it after the bridge. It’s a nice place, though. Pretty views. New bridge, which doesn’t look more than a few feet over the water. Not really high enough to commit suicide from, I don’t think, but who knows. It’s not as unique as Miss Ruby’s.”
    â€œThis place is