Shades of Red Read Free Page B

every time her thoughts turned to Eagle Glen, the same feeling of exhaustion descended, slowing her movements and dulling her thoughts.
    â€œDo you
really
believe?”
    Yeah
, Darrell thought bitterly.
Yeah, I believe. I believe that everything I used to believe is wrong — that time and space are not what I thought they were and that bad things can happen to good people and that good things can happen to bad people and that it’s all an exercise in the random behaviour of the universe.
    Her head hurt. She flung an arm over her eyes to block out the dull January light, and the muted voice from the television droned on, accompanied now by much cheering and applause.
    â€œRise up, people!”
    Darrell pressed one ear tightly into the soft cushions of the couch, and the voice muted by half.
    â€œYou too can be saved!”
    â€œ
This
is what you wanted to watch? You can’t be catching much of it with your head buried like that.”
    Darrell jumped and opened her eyes. “Uh — I guess my show is over,” she said, glancing sheepishly at her mother’s puzzled face. “I’ll come upstairs now.”
    Darrell’s mother reached over and placed a hand on her daughter’s forehead. “Maybe you’re fighting a germ, kiddo. You haven’t been yourself for days.” She slid into a spot beside Darrell on the couch. “David suggested last night that you might be disappointed that I had to cancel our Christmas trip to Italy.”
    Darrell shook her head. “No. I probably wouldn’t have enjoyed it anyway. I’m not sick, I’m just a little tired. That’s all.” She fiddled with the tinsel. “I’m sorry about dinner last night, Mom.”
    Her mother sighed. “I shouldn’t have brought David over for the first time on your birthday, so I’m sorry, too, kiddo. Anyway, you’d better get ready now. We have to leave by noon if I’m going to make the hospitalon time.” Darrell’s mother ruffled her daughter’s hair and walked over to the door.
    Darrell glanced up to see her mother blush a little as she scooped a tiny menorah off the untidy top of the dining room table. “I’ve got to remember to thank David for this,” she muttered and set it on top of an overflowing briefcase near the front door.
    A menorah. What kind of a weird gift is a menorah?
Darrell shrugged. David had presented it shyly to Darrell at dinner the night before. She had always believed that Chanukah was a kind of Jewish version of Christmas, but he had set her straight and told her the whole story of the festival of lights. Darrell snorted to herself. She could see through him. He was just trying to get on her good side to impress her mother.
    Darrell scowled and leaned forward to grab the remote, when a voice from the television drove all thoughts of her mother’s new friend out of her mind.
    â€œWhat do you believe, crippled child?”
    What?
Darrell stood up and took a step towards the television. The screen held the face of the blonde preacher in full close-up, his black eyes blazing. His voice dropped to a whisper. “What do you believe?”
    For a moment, time seemed to grind to a halt.
Crippled
?
Who uses a word like that these days?
Darrell’s stomach clenched as she stared at the screen.
    The camera panned out to encompass a tiny girl, blonde tresses rivalling those of the preacher’s for brightness. She wore a frilly blue dress and white stockings over tiny, misshapen legs and supported herself on silver crutches. Darrell came back to herself and drew a ragged breath.
    â€œI believe,” the girl carolled.
    â€œThen, walk, my child,” commanded the preacher.
    The little girl threw her crutches aside and, to the sounds of much applause and screaming, strode forward several steps and collapsed into the arms of the now weeping preacher.
    Darrell snapped the button on the remote and the picture