Page 8 of The Sun and Her Star

“Well, it's mine, too,” I say slowly because a part of me is expecting her to burst out laughing or call me a sinning sissy.

But, she doesn’t do anything but keep on talking.

“Really? I just finished a book on Greek gods, and then I’m finishing one on Egypt and all the Pharaohs and their tombs and all the things they believed back then.” She’s practically bouncing on my back. I don’t know what either of those two things is, but I can’t tell her that.

I want to read about them, too.

“What are you reading?” she asks, sounding even more excited.

“The Hobbit. I’ve read it lots of times already.” I don’t tell her it’s the only book I have. And that I come here to read because it’s the only place no one would come looking for me.

I would be beaten within an inch of my life if my stepfather found out what I was doing every day.

The only book allowed in Cain's Weeping is the Bible and a cookbook my Mama brought with her when we moved here. She also broughtThe Hobbitand gave it to me for my seventh birthday.

“What is that about?” she asks, and I start to tell her all about mythical, magical beings that don’t really exist. She hugs my neck and says, “You sound so excited about it. Can I read it when you’re done?”

“I may not be done for a while,” I say even though the thought of parting with my book makes my stomach hurt.

“That’s okay. I’ve got other books to read while I wait,” she says.

“I dunno, you’re maybe too little,” I say slowly.

“My brain’s not,” she singsongs. Oh, yeah. That’s obvious.

“I’ll let you read some of mine. I have a bunch, and then we can talk about them,” she adds.

I perk up at that. The idea of talking about it with someone makes my stomach hurt a little less.

“I guess that’ll be okay,”

“You wanna come to my house? Or should I come to yours?” My stomach sinks. Neither of those things is possible.

“I can’t do that. My parents don’t let me …” I start and try to find an excuse that doesn’t sound as awful as the truth.

“That’s okay.” Her legs swing a little. “Let’s meet by the lake again. I’ll bring you the books I’ve finished, and you can bring me yours.”

Inside, bubbling happiness tickles my throat and makes me want to laugh out loud. I can’t remember the last time I felt that.

“Yeah, sure. I can only come here from two to four. And you have to wear real shoes. I don’t want you dying from a snakebite on your way here.”

“I’m so excited. It’ll be so fun.” She squeals and wiggles. But this time, I don’t tell her to stop.

I’m happy, too.

I come to a stop and shrug to urge her to get down.

“You can get down now. The rest of this way is paved. Do you remember the way to your house from here?”

“Yeah, it’s just up the road, and then we turn up another road on the right, and it’s there.” She slides down. Her legs stay wrapped around mine until she’s close enough to the ground to stand up and we start walking.

“I can take you as far as that second turning, okay? You should be fine once we get closer to town.”

“I guess I’m lucky I didn’t get bitten on my way up there, huh?”

“How’d you even know it was here?”

“I saw it from my bedroom window.” She sounds out of breath, and it’s only then that I realize she’s jogging to keep up with my long strides.

---