Free Blackwater by Eve Bunting Page A
Authors: Eve Bunting
to, Brodie. I told them that it would be super hard for you. They seem to think since you were the one who tried so hard to save her, and since you knew her at El Camino …”
“Her mom said Pauline spoke about you often,” Dad said.
I shook my head and shook it and shook it. “No. I couldn’t. I’d feel like…like a murderer.”
Dad looked shocked. “A murderer! Come on, Brodie! Why would you feel like that?”
“Oh …”
“Oh, he thinks he’s responsible for her drowning, that’s why,” Alex said. “It’s so dumb, Brodie. It wasn’t your fault. Nobody could have fished out either of them. They went by too fast. I was there. I saw. You ought to be happy that you even tried.”
“Shut up, Alex.” I clenched my teeth so tightly my ears hurt.
“Don’t be this hard on yourself, Brodie,” Mom said. “And don’t be mean to Alex. He’s just trying to make you feel better.”
“Can you please tell Mr. and Mrs. Genero no?” I asked.
“Of course we can.” Dad came across and hugged me hard. “They’ll understand. It was just their way of showing you how much they appreciate what you did.”
I couldn’t look at Alex or any of them. I couldn’t lift up my head.
Alex and I helped Mom fix sandwiches to go with the lemonade because she decided it was lunch time. Dad went into his study. I took his lunch to him.
He had his guitar and he was sitting on the floor by his desk, cross-legged, strumming chords, a pile of sheet music beside him.
He looked up absently without stopping. I knew instantly that he was choosing something to sing at Pauline’s funeral service. Probably the Generos had asked him to.
The phone was ringing in the other room, and we heard Mom pick it up. I went back just in time to hear her say, “Judy? Well, hello.” Mom’s sister, Alex’s mom.
Alex was sitting at the table, and I saw his face go first red, then white. He straightened, bolt upright, as if he’d been struck by lightning.
“They’re all right,” Mom said. She listened for a minute and then said: “Well, I’m not sure if excitement is quite the right word. Hold on,Judy.” She beckoned Alex toward her. “It’s your mom.”
Alex shrugged and went to take the phone.
Mom lifted her glass and plate. “Let’s go in and eat with your dad, Brodie,” she whispered. But on the way into the study I heard Alex say, “Oh, nothin’. Yeah, well, it’s nice of you to worry. No, I’m not trying to be sarcastic. Why would I want to be sarcastic?”
I glanced back over my shoulder, and he raised his eyebrows at me.
Mom nudged me forward and closed the door between us and the living room.
“That sister of mine,” she said angrily to Dad. “It’s about time she called. Here’s her nephew and son, the two of them involved in this thing, on TV even, in the newspapers, and she takes her own sweet time getting in touch. Never mind that I’ve left a jillion messages. That poor kid. Not much wonder he’s as messed up as he is.” She glanced at me and bit her lip.
I sat on the floor beside Dad and didn’t say anything.
Alex opened the door. “Where did you all go?”
“We thought you might like some private time to talk to your mom,” Mom told him.
“Naw. Nothin’ to say. Move over, Brodie.” He sat on the floor beside me and put down his plate and glass.
“How is she?” Dad asked.
“OK, I guess. But I’ll tell you one thing. I’m not going back there. Not to her. Not ever. I hate them both.”
“Don’t say that, honey.” Mom’s eyes were misty.
We ate. But it was plain nobody was hungry. Imagine if your mom didn’t call you for days and days and when she did you had nothing to say to her? And not wanting to ever go back to her? I couldn’t imagine it.
CHAPTER 12
B obby Steig came over later in the afternoon. He brought the coupons for the two hero sandwiches.
“Cool,” Alex said. “Have you ever had a hoagie? Hoagies are great!”
Bobby asked if I knew there was going to be
“Her mom said Pauline spoke about you often,” Dad said.
I shook my head and shook it and shook it. “No. I couldn’t. I’d feel like…like a murderer.”
Dad looked shocked. “A murderer! Come on, Brodie! Why would you feel like that?”
“Oh …”
“Oh, he thinks he’s responsible for her drowning, that’s why,” Alex said. “It’s so dumb, Brodie. It wasn’t your fault. Nobody could have fished out either of them. They went by too fast. I was there. I saw. You ought to be happy that you even tried.”
“Shut up, Alex.” I clenched my teeth so tightly my ears hurt.
“Don’t be this hard on yourself, Brodie,” Mom said. “And don’t be mean to Alex. He’s just trying to make you feel better.”
“Can you please tell Mr. and Mrs. Genero no?” I asked.
“Of course we can.” Dad came across and hugged me hard. “They’ll understand. It was just their way of showing you how much they appreciate what you did.”
I couldn’t look at Alex or any of them. I couldn’t lift up my head.
Alex and I helped Mom fix sandwiches to go with the lemonade because she decided it was lunch time. Dad went into his study. I took his lunch to him.
He had his guitar and he was sitting on the floor by his desk, cross-legged, strumming chords, a pile of sheet music beside him.
He looked up absently without stopping. I knew instantly that he was choosing something to sing at Pauline’s funeral service. Probably the Generos had asked him to.
The phone was ringing in the other room, and we heard Mom pick it up. I went back just in time to hear her say, “Judy? Well, hello.” Mom’s sister, Alex’s mom.
Alex was sitting at the table, and I saw his face go first red, then white. He straightened, bolt upright, as if he’d been struck by lightning.
“They’re all right,” Mom said. She listened for a minute and then said: “Well, I’m not sure if excitement is quite the right word. Hold on,Judy.” She beckoned Alex toward her. “It’s your mom.”
Alex shrugged and went to take the phone.
Mom lifted her glass and plate. “Let’s go in and eat with your dad, Brodie,” she whispered. But on the way into the study I heard Alex say, “Oh, nothin’. Yeah, well, it’s nice of you to worry. No, I’m not trying to be sarcastic. Why would I want to be sarcastic?”
I glanced back over my shoulder, and he raised his eyebrows at me.
Mom nudged me forward and closed the door between us and the living room.
“That sister of mine,” she said angrily to Dad. “It’s about time she called. Here’s her nephew and son, the two of them involved in this thing, on TV even, in the newspapers, and she takes her own sweet time getting in touch. Never mind that I’ve left a jillion messages. That poor kid. Not much wonder he’s as messed up as he is.” She glanced at me and bit her lip.
I sat on the floor beside Dad and didn’t say anything.
Alex opened the door. “Where did you all go?”
“We thought you might like some private time to talk to your mom,” Mom told him.
“Naw. Nothin’ to say. Move over, Brodie.” He sat on the floor beside me and put down his plate and glass.
“How is she?” Dad asked.
“OK, I guess. But I’ll tell you one thing. I’m not going back there. Not to her. Not ever. I hate them both.”
“Don’t say that, honey.” Mom’s eyes were misty.
We ate. But it was plain nobody was hungry. Imagine if your mom didn’t call you for days and days and when she did you had nothing to say to her? And not wanting to ever go back to her? I couldn’t imagine it.
CHAPTER 12
B obby Steig came over later in the afternoon. He brought the coupons for the two hero sandwiches.
“Cool,” Alex said. “Have you ever had a hoagie? Hoagies are great!”
Bobby asked if I knew there was going to be