Free Franny Parker by Hannah Roberts McKinnon Page B

barn and of the throbbing chirp of the peepers in the riverbed below our yard. Summer to my hands, my eyes, my ears. I closed my eyes, my body filling with the gentle pull of the wheel, the swaying of the chair, the night air lifting around us. I felt myself fill up, spill over into the sky, the summer fever quivering in my bones. I squeezed Lucas’s hand. I wanted him to know, to feel what I felt.
    And then the ride slowed, the Ferris wheel stopped to let people off. It delivered us down into the crowd, returning us to the regular noise of the world, the spell of the starry night hovering above us like a promise.

Homecoming
    W e did it! We beat the Walker frog!” Ben yelled.
    â€œHow?” I asked. We were walking home through the quiet streets with Lindy and Lucas, slowed by bellies full ofcarnival food. Ben bounced on Dad’s shoulders, a cotton candy in one fist and his frog trophy in the other.
    â€œWell, most of the competition jumped into the crowd, so the only real threat was the Walker frog.” Ben was completely wound up. “He’s big, but not so smart. He took one big hop, then stopped. When Martha saw that frog ahead of her in the lane, she just pulled her head out and started following. And when Martha went, George went. The Walker frog was just one hop away from the finish line, and here comes Martha running up behind him—”
    â€œMartha ran?” I asked.
    Mama winked.
    â€œYes!” Ben shouted. “And so here she comes running, and the Walker frog is just about to take his last hop, and all of a sudden his big bulgy eyes get real sleepy-looking, and they start to close, and
conk
, he just falls asleep. Right there on the track.”
    â€œHe fell asleep?” Lucas asked, breaking into laughter.
    â€œLike a baby,” Ben said. He hugged his frog trophy to his chest, his face covered in pink cotton candy.
    â€œJeb Walker falls asleep in school all the time,” Sidda said.
    â€œWell, there you go,” said Dad.
    We cut through the Dorsens’ pasture, newly mowed, and climbed Berry Hill, taking the shortcut home. It was a beautiful night for a walk. We were all having such a fine time celebrating the frog hop and the fair, laughing so loud, that no one noticed the rusty black car parked in Lindy’s driveway when we arrived home. The same car from the other day.
    â€œLooks like you’ve got company,” Dad said.
    Lindy halted, wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders. We all peered into the darkness, wondering who was there.
    Except for Lucas and Lindy. They seemed to know.
    Mama stepped forward, her hand moving to touch Lindy’s arm. “Are you all right?” she asked.
    Lindy didn’t look so good. There was a creak on the porch. The pale-faced man stood up from one of the rocking chairs, rising from the darkness like a spooky moon, right there on Lindy’s porch. He stared at us, saying nothing.
    â€œWho is that?” Ben asked.
    Lindy’s voice quivered. “That’s Lucas’s father,” she said.

The Uninvited Guest
    T he cabin was quiet the next morning. It stayed quiet all weekend. The potting shed doors remain closed, and Jax whined at the edge of the yard with a stick in his mouth. On Sunday morning, Sidda complained that Lucas had never shown up at Marilee’s party on Saturday night.
    â€œSomething’s not right,” Mama said, clutching her coffee mug at the breakfast table. “Did you see the look on Lindy’s face the other night?”
    We’d said good night after finding Mr. Dunn on Lindy’s porch. I could tell Mama didn’t want to leave her. It was like all the beauty of our night had been sucked up into the cloudless sky, a storm of worry in its place.
    I wanted to tell my parents what Lucas had told me about his father that day in the barn. I felt betrayed. Dead fathers don’t show up in cars or eat corn dogs at fairs. But first, I wanted to ask him