The Fire Read Free Page A

there.”
    “It won’t matter if they have permission or not,” said Mrs. Shevvington. “They can’t raise that kind of money. A scrubby little Maine village like this? Hah!” she sniffed. “Don’t set your heart on it, Benjamin, because it will not come about.”
    “Anyway,” said Michael, his mouth all pouty, “why should everybody raise all that money for just you guys? Forty-four of you get to go to Disney World, but we don’t. I don’t play an instrument. So why should I help?”
    Christina was outraged. “Because he’s your brother,” she said. “You’re mean, Michael. You’ve been getting all the glory all year with your games and your trophies. Now you don’t want your own brother to have any?”
    Michael said, “He doesn’t work as hard as we did. Band is just a dumb class, like art or cooking. Athletic teams have to practice every day after school. And Saturdays. What do they have to do for Band? Just show up, is all.”
    The brothers glared at each other.
    Mrs. Shevvington said, “You’re right, Michael. Benjamin rarely practices. And of course, he doesn’t make that much of a contribution to the band anyway. After all these years, he’s only third trumpet.”
    Benj, on whose face emotion so rarely showed, flinched. He stared down into his creamed potatoes so he would not have to see his brother’s jealous eyes and the Shevvingtons’ cruel mouths.
    Christina thought, So that’s what they’ll do these last eighteen days. Try to hurt everybody in sight. Look how quickly they stabbed old Benj. First time he’s ever been filled with joy, and they punctured him right away.
    Benjamin tried to take a sip from his glass, failed, and put it back on the table. The glass shook.
    “You don’t feel well,” observed Mrs. Shevvington, a tiny smile slitting her face.
    Benj shrugged.
    “Seconds please,” said Michael, pointing toward the serving bowls.
    “Eat what Benj left on his plate,” suggested Christina, “since you’re the one who spoiled his appetite.”
    “Christina!” said Mrs. Shevvington. “Your manners are deteriorating every day. I am appalled at you. Go to your room.”
    “No,” said Christina. “Benj and I are going for ice cream.” She stood up, heart pounding. Disobeying the Shevvingtons was scary. She did not look at their eyes. His would be glittering like a seagull’s, as it swept down to peck open a tern’s egg. Hers would be little stones, as if there were not a person inside; just gravel.
    “Your fourteenth birthday is only a few weeks away,” said Mr. Shevvington, “and you are behaving like a spoiled toddler.”
    Benj said, “I forgot about your birthday, Chrissie. That’s neat. It’s hard to believe you’ll be fourteen.”
    That was so much speech coming from Benj she felt they should write it down and save it for his grandchildren to read.
    “We should do something special,” added Benj. “Since your mom and dad can’t give you a party until you get back to the island for summer.” He touched his jeans pocket where his wallet made a rectangular bulge. Benj worked at the gas station and saved every cent toward the new motor he wanted for his boat. It had not occurred to Christina that he would pay for the ice cream. She had expected to use her allowance.
    If he paid, it would be like a date.
    She hid her giggle at the mere idea of Benjamin having a date.
    “I’m coming for ice cream, too,” said Michael, jealous over even a tiny thing his brother might have and he wouldn’t. “We’ll try to think of something for Christina’s birthday.”
    Mrs. Shevvington’s smile was horrid, her little yellow teeth lined up like broken candy. She purred, “Perhaps we can think of something to do with Christina.”

Chapter 3
    C HRISTINA, IN THE MIDDLE , was by far the smallest. Her tri-colored hair flew in the wind like flags.
    Michael was on her right. He talked loudly of sports and teams. She had never noticed before that Michael was something of a