按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
was only in the second grade but he loved to read stories by
himself—and he never asked anybody else to read to him。
'What kind you want this time？'
'Pick out some stories with something to eat in them。 I like
that one a whole lot about them German kids going out in the
forest and coming to this house made out of all different kinds
of candy and the witch。 I like a story with something to eat in
it。'
'I'll look for one；' said Mick。
'But I'm getting kinda tired of candy；' Bubber said。 'See if you
can't bring me a story with something like a barbecue
sandwich in it。 But if you can't find none of them I'd like a
cowboy story。'
She was ready to leave when suddenly she stopped and stared。
The kids stared too。 They all stood still and looked at Baby
Wilson coming down the steps of her house across the street。
'Ain't Baby cute！' said Bubber softly。
Maybe it was the sudden hot； sunny day after all those rainy
weeks。 Maybe it was because their dark winter clothes were
ugly to them on an afternoon like this one。 Anyway Baby
looked like a fairy or something in the picture show。 She had
on her last year's soiree costume—with a little pink…gauze
skirt that stuck out short and stiff； a pink body waist； pink
dancing shoes； and even a little pink140
pocketbook。 With her yellow hair she was all pink and white
and gold—and so small and clean that it almost hurt to watch
her。 She prissed across the street in a cute way； but would not
turn her face toward them。
'Come over here；' said Bubber。 'Lemme look at your little pink
pocketbook'
Baby passed them along the edge of the street with her head
held to one side。 She had made up her mind not to speak to
them。
There was a strip of grass between the sidewalk and the street；
and when Baby reached it she stood still for a second and then
turned a handspring。
'Don't pay no mind to her；' said Spareribs。 'She always tries to
show off。 She's going down to Mister Brannon's cafe to get
candy。 He's her uncle and she gets it free。'
Bubber rested the end of the rifle on the ground。 The big gun
was too heavy for him。 As he watched Baby walk off down
the street he kept pulling the straggly bangs of his hair。 'That
sure is a cute little pink pocketbook；' he said。
'Her Mama always talks about how talented she is；' said
Spareribs。 'She thinks she's gonna get Baby in the movies。'
It was too late to go look at the National Geographic。 Supper
was almost ready。 Ralph tuned up to cry and she took him off
the wagon and put him on the ground。 Now it was December；
and to a kid Bubber's age that was a long time from summer。
All last summer Baby had come out in that pink soiree
costume and danced in the middle of the street。 At first the
kids would flock around and watch her； but soon they got tired
of it。 Bubber was the only one who would watch her as she
came out to dance。 He would sit on the curb and yell to her
when he saw a car coming。 He had watched Baby do her
soiree dance a hundred times—but summer had been gone for
three months and now it seemed new to him again。
'I sure do wish I had a costume；' Bubber said。
'What kind do you want？'
'A real cool costume。 A real pretty one made out of all
different colors。 Like a butterfly。 That's what I want for
Christmas。 That and a bicycle！'
'Sissy；' said Spareribs。
Bubber hauled the big rifle up to his shoulder again and took
aim at a house across the street。 'I'd dance around in
141
my costume if I had one。 I'd wear it every day to school。' Mick
sat on the front steps and kept her eyes on Ralph。 Bubber
wasn't a sissy like Spareribs said。 He just loved pretty things。
She'd better not let old Spareribs get away with that。
'A person's got to fight for every single thing they get；' she
said slowly。 'And I've noticed a lot of times that the farther
down a kid comes in the family the better the kid really is。
Younger kids are always the toughest。 I'm pretty hard 'cause
I've a lot of them on top of me。 Bubber —he looks sick； and
likes pretty things； but he's got guts underneath that。 If all this
is true Ralph sure ought to be a real strong one when he's old
enough to get around。 Even though he's just seventeen months
old I can read something hard and tough in that Ralph's face
already。
'
Ralph looked around because he knew he was being talked
about。 Spareribs sat down on the ground and grabbed Ralph's
hat off his head and shook it in his face to tease him。
'AH right！' Mick said。 'You know what 111 do to you if you
start him to cry。 You just better watch out'
Everything was quiet。 The sun was behind the roofs of the
houses and the sky in the west was purple and pink。 On the
next block there was the sound of kids skating。 Bubber leaned
up against a tree and he seemed to be dreaming about
something。 The smell of supper came out of the house and it
would be time to eat soon。
'Lookit；' Bubber said suddenly。 'Here comes Baby again。 She
sure is pretty in the pink costume。
'
Baby walked toward them slowly。 She had been given a prize
box of popcorn candy and was reaching in the box for the
prize。 She walked in that same prissy； dainty way。 You could
tell that she knew they were all looking at her。
'Please； Baby' Bubber said when she started to
pass them。 'Lemme see your little pink pocketbook and touch
your pink costume。
'
Baby started humming a song to herself and did not listen。 She
passed by without letting Bubber play with her。 She only
ducked her head and grinned at him a little。
Bubber still had the big rifle up to his shoulder。 He made
a
loud pow sound and pretended like he had shot Then he called
to Baby again—in a soft； sad voice like he142
was calling a little kitty。 'Please； Baby—come here；
Baby
'
He was too quick for Mick to stop him。 She had just seen his
hand on the trigger when there was the terrible ping of the
gun。 Baby crumpled down to the sidewalk。 It was like she was
nailed to the steps and couldn't move or scream。 Spareribs had
his arm up over his head。
Bubber was the only one that didn't realize。 'Get up； Baby；' he
hollered。 'I ain't mad with you。'
It all happened in a second。 The three of them reached Baby at
the same time。 She lay crumpled down on the dirty sidewalk。
Her skirt was over her head； showing her pink panties and her
little white legs。 Her hands were open—in one there was the
prize from the candy and in the other the pocketbook。 There
was blood all over her hair ribbon and the top of her yellow
curls。 She was shot in the head and her face was turned down
toward the ground。
So much happened in a second。 Bubber screamed and dropped
the gun and ran。 She stood with her hands up to her face and
screamed too。 Then there were many people。 Her Dad was the
first to get there。 He carried Baby into the house。
'She's dead；' said Spareribs。 'She's shot through the eyes。 I seen
her face。'
Mick walked up and down the sidewalk； and her tongue stuck
in her mouth when she tried to ask was Baby killed。 Mrs。
Wilson came running down the block from the beauty parlor
where she worked。 She went into the house and came back out
again。 She walked up and down in the street； crying and
pulling a ring on and off her finger。 Then the ambulance came
and the doctor went in to Baby。 Mick followed him。 Baby was
lying on the bed in the front room。 The house was quiet as a
church。
Baby looked like a pretty little doll on the bed。 Except for the
blood she did not seem hurt。 The doctor bent over and looked
at her head。 After he finished they took Baby out on a
stretcher。 Mrs。 Wilson and her Dad got into the ambulance
with her。
The house was still quiet。 Everybody had forgotten about
Bubber。 He was nowhere around。 An hour passed。 Her Mama
and Hazel and Etta and all the boarders waited in the front
room。 Mister Singer stood in the doorway。
After a long time her Dad came home。 He said Baby wouldn't
die but that her skull was fractured。 He asked for Bubber。
Nobody knew where he was。 It was dark outside。 They called
Bubber in the back yard and in the street。 They sent Spareribs
and some other boys out to hunt for him。 It looked like Bubber
had gone clear out of the neighborhood。 Harry went around to
a house where they thought he might be。
Her Dad walked up and down the front porch。 'I never have
whipped any of my kids yet；' he kept saying。 'I never believed
in it。 But I'm sure going to lay it onto that kid as soon as I get
my hands on him。'
Mick sat on the banisters and watched down the dark street。 'I
can manage Bubber。 Once he comes back I can take care of
him all right。'
'You go out and hunt for him。 You can find him better than
anybody else。'
As soon as her Dad said that she suddenly knew where Bubber
was。 In the back yard there was a big oak and in the summer
they had built a tree house。 They had hauled a big box up in
this oak； and Bubber used to love to sit up in the tree house by
himself。 Mick left the family and the boarders on the front
porch and walked back through the alley of the dark yard。
She stood for a minute by the trunk of the tree。 'Bubber—；' she
said