Free Secrets of the Red Box by Vickie Hall

here?”
Bonnie cast her eyes to the dirt and slowly shook her head.
“It is very hot, I know, but you should not anger your papa, no?”
Bonnie felt a surge of guilt. “I’m just so hot, Pablo.”
“I know. It is hard work, especially for a little girl.”
Bonnie cocked her head to one side. “You know what I wish, Pablo? I wish I were a princes s, Princess of
Strawberry Land. And no one would have to pick them. If you wanted to eat them, you could just take as many as
you wanted and then sit in the shade and drink lemonade. And I would be rich, so I’d never have to work again.”
Pablo smiled and licked his parched lips. “That is a very nice wish. Maybe someday it will come true.”
Bonnie’s eyes widened at the prospect. “Do you think so, Pablo?”
“Maybe,” he said, stuffing his moist handkerchief into his pocket. “But until then, we haveto work, no?”
“And when I am princess,” she continued, “you can be a knight in my court and you’ll never have to work again
either.”
Pablo laughed quietly. “Si, I will be Sir Pabloand will serve you gladly, my princess.”
Bonnie giggled.
Pablo stretched out his brown hand to her. “Now, come on, we have work to do.”
Bonnie slipped her hand into his and let him help her to her feet. She brushed the dirt from the back of her dress
and picked up her straw hat.
“You know what else I wish?” she asked, peering up at him with longing. “I wish you were my father.”
Pablo lowered his gaze ,then squatted in front of her. He brushed a lock of her golden hair from off her forehead.
“I wish I had a little girl like you,” he said softly.
“Bonnie!”
Bonnie froze and her eyes darted up at her father. She glanced at Pablo as if he might somehow help her avoid her
father’s wrath. Then Bonnie winced as her father’s meaty hand grabbed her around the back of the neck. Her
shoulders hunched up in reflex to the painful grip.
“What did I tell you about leaving the fields?” he barked while shaking her.
His grip tightened and Bonnie began to whimper.
Pablo squared his shoulders and faced Bonnie’s father. “It is my fault, Señor Murphy. I came to get water and
started talking to her.”
He grunted, but failed to releaseBonnie. “I don’t need your excuses. She knows what she’s supposed to do.”
“But Señor, she is only eight years old—”
“I know how old she is,” he shouted. “She eats just like the rest of us, don’t she? It takes all our wages just to get
by. I swear to God, if I could, I’d get rid of her once and for all.”
Tears began to stream down Bonnie’s face, but she tried to hold in her cries of pain and fear. She peered up at
Pablo, praying he would help her.
Pablo glowered at him, stepping in front of Bonnie as if to shield her. “Let her go, Señor Murphy. This is not her
fault—”
He shoved Pablo aside as his thick hand released her with a forceful thrust, sending her off balance as she
stumbled forward. “Get out there, and if I catch you lollygagging again, you’ll wishyou’d never been born.”
He jabbed his finger into Pablo’s chest and glared menacingly at him. “And you’d better mind your own business.
Get my meaning?”
Pablo nodded and clenched his jaw. “Si, Señor Murphy.”
Blinded by tears, Bonnie staggered into the strawberry fields, the back of her neck throbbing. She scanned the acres
of cool green foliage, weighed down with their succulent fruit, and saw nothing but sky and endless rows of strawberries.
She wanted to run, to escape to a place where there was no sun, no work, no pain. She wished her father were dead,
that his body lay rotting in the hot sun, that vultures were circling about him ready to peck out his eyes.
She located the row her mother was working and dropped to the ground beside her. “Mama,” she sobbed.
“Mama…”
Her mother took scant notice of her daughter. Her fingers continued to work, her body numb with pain. “Why
aren’t you picking?” she asked. Her voice