Bridge to Terabithia Read Free Page A

against the quilt.
    His mother was at the door. “You milk yet?”
    He jumped off the bed. “Just going to.” He dodged around her and out, grabbing the pail from beside the sink and the stool from beside the door, before she could ask him what he had been up to.
    Lights were winking out from all three floors of the old Perkins place. It was nearly dark. Miss Bessie’s bag was tight, and she was fidgeting with discomfort. She should have been milked a couple of hours ago. He eased himself onto the stool and began to tug; the warm milk pinged into the pail. Down on the road an occasional truck passed by with its dimmers on. His dad would be home soon, and so would those cagey girls who managed somehow to have all the fun and leave him and their mother with all the work. He wondered what they had bought with all their money. Lord, what he wouldn’t give for a new pad of real art paper and a set of those marking pens—color pouring out onto the page as fast as you could think it. Not like stubby school crayons you had to press down on till somebody bitched about your breaking them.
    A car was turning in. It was the Timmonses’.The girls had beat Dad home. Jess could hear their happy calls as the car doors slammed. Momma would fix them supper, and when he went in with the milk, he’d find them all laughing and chattering. Momma’d even forget she was tired and mad. He was the only one who had to take that stuff. Sometimes he felt so lonely among all these females—even the one rooster had died, and they hadn’t yet gotten another. With his father gone from sunup until well past dark, who was there to know how he felt? Weekends weren’t any better. His dad was so tired from the wear and tear of the week and trying to catch up around the place that when he wasn’t actually working, he was sleeping in front of the TV.
    â€œHey, Jesse.” May Belle. The dumb kid wouldn’t even let you think privately.
    â€œWhat do you want now?”
    He watched her shrink two sizes. “I got something to tell you.” She hung her head.
    â€œYou ought to be in bed,” he said huffily, mad at himself for cutting her down.
    â€œEllie and Brenda come home.”
    â€œCame. Came home.” Why couldn’t he quit picking on her?
    But her news was too delicious to let him stop her sharing it. “Ellie bought herself a see-through blouse, and Momma’s throwing a fit!”
    Good, he thought. “That ain’t nothing to cheer about,” he said.
    Baripity, baripity, baripity.
    â€œDaddy!” May Belle screamed with delight and started running for the road. Jess watched his dad stop the truck, lean over to unlatch the door, so May Belle could climb in. He turned away. Durn lucky kid. She could run after him and grab him and kiss him. It made Jess ache inside to watch his dad grab the little ones to his shoulder, or lean down and hug them. It seemed to him that he had been thought too big for that since the day he was born.
    When the pail was full, he gave Miss Bessie a pat to move her away. Putting the stool under his left arm, he carried the heavy pail carefully, so none of the milk would slop out.
    â€œMighty late with the milking, aren’t you, son?”It was the only thing his father said directly to him all evening.
    Â 
    The next morning he almost didn’t get up at the sound of the pickup. He could feel, even before he came fully awake, how tired he still was. But May Belle was grinning at him, propped up on one elbow. “Ain’t ’cha gonna run?” she asked.
    â€œNo,” he said, shoving the sheet away. “I’m gonna fly.”
    Because he was more tired than usual, he had to push himself harder. He pretended that Wayne Pettis was there, just ahead of him, and he had to keep up. His feet pounded the uneven ground, and he thrashed his arms harder and harder. He’d catch him. “Watch out, Wayne Pettis,”