Free The Castle Cross the Magnet Carter by Kia Corthron Page A

ain’t the one gettin that third sparkler.” Chris-Joe starts howling. “Shut up! ”
    â€œI was over there today,” says Artie Ray. “She got a letter from Jack.”
    Chris-Joe instantly stops crying and Deb Ellen, that quick already holding a menagerie of a good twenty fireflies, turns sharply toward Buppie. “Where?”
    â€œLily’s, where’dja think?”
    They all stare at him.
    â€œWell don’t you even wanna know what he had to say?”
    â€œ I do!” says Chris-Joe.
    â€œHe said France is a dog pit, and the food tastes like dog shit.”
    â€œHe didn’t say that word!” Chris-Joe.
    â€œHe sure did. He wouldn’ta wrote that to Ma but he wrote it to Lily. He said they marched seventeen miles nonstop, then creepin in the trenches, moved ten yards over three days. Cold an half the time pourin, he signed up fearin he might get shot an die but now thinks what gonna earn him the Purple Heart is new-monia. Love, Jack.”
    â€œHe didn’t say love to the family?”
    â€œI mean ‘Love to the family. Jack.’” Chris-Joe is relieved.
    Deb Ellen’s eyes narrow. “You made that up.”
    â€œHis words, not mine.”
    â€œâ€˜Love, Jack. I mean, Love to the family, Jack.’” Her eyes rolling.
    â€œOkay, he didn’t say ‘love to the family.’ I jus said that cuz it’s what he wanted to hear.” Meaning Chris-Joe, who now confirms this with “Aw!”
    â€œI’m joinin the army,” says Buppie.
    â€œ I’m joinin the army!” says Chris-Joe. “If I get my growth spurt next year I’ll pass for fifteen.”
    â€œ Lookin fifteen’ll do you no good, fool,” says Buppie. “Fifteen-year-olds get in for lookin eighteen .”
    â€œThey let anybody in,” says Artie Ray.
    â€œ Not the army, I’ma be a flyer !” Chris-Joe starts racing around, his arms outstretched: plane. Artie Ray looks at Deb Ellen, her eyes still hard on him.
    â€œWhatta ya blamin me for? I didn’t tell Jack to write to Lily steada us.”
    â€œYou made the whole goddamn thing up.”
    â€œYou know the way Ma and Lily can get into it.” Artie Ray looks at the picnic table in the distance. “Both of em actin like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths now, but one wrong word. Jack prolly thinks he better write to Lily separately since he never knows when her and Ma’s gonna fall out, stop speakin.”
    â€œHe could write to each of us,” Deb Ellen says.
    â€œTo eight of us ?” the boys say in unison. Chris-Joe adds, “Plus Ma ? Plus Pa ?”
    â€œHe only writes to Lily separate cuz she’s in a separate household.” Artie Ray.
    â€œI gotta go to the woods!” Chris-Joe hops away, holding himself.
    â€œ An cuz Lily’s his favorite sister.” Deb Ellen flashes a glare at Artie Ray.
    â€œOh he’s jus foolin on ya,” says Buppie, “don’t bite the bait.” From over on the colored side, another birthday happening: singing and the lit cake.
    â€œCome on,” Artie Ray says, “let’s light up the sparklers.”
    â€œI’m not ready yet,” Deb Ellen retorts.
    â€œThen guess you’ll miss out.”
    â€œI GET TWO MORE!”
    â€œI get mine! I get mine!” Chris-Joe running out of the woods, still pulling up his pants.
    â€œJesus! Don’tchu see a girl lookin atcha?” asks Buppie.
    â€œNope.” Chris-Joe grins at Deb Ellen, who slugs him. He starts wailing.
    â€œOh Christ,” says Buppie.
    â€œWell long as he’s blubberin, I’ll take his sparkler too.” Artie Ray moves toward the box.
    â€œNo!” Chris-Joe grabs his sparkler, lights it, smiling through his tears. As the four of us watch the shimmering in the boy’s hands, Deb Ellen, still sulky, gives each of her brothers the evil eye, her irises shining in