The Jewel and the Key Read Free Page A

way), and dynamic, especially for her age, which Addie thought to be about sixty. Dad and Zack were at the big oak table; Zack had his colored pencils spilling everywhere, and Dad’s round glasses were gleaming behind a newspaper with the headline CONGRESS VOTES FOR WAR FUNDING; FIRST OFFENSIVE EXPECTED SOON . He was reading the article out loud. Mrs. Turner was gripping an unlit cigarillo between her fingers, listening intently.
    â€œâ€˜Despite war costs set to top one trillion dollars for ongoing operations, Congress has authorized war funding for the new theater of conflict, citing credible intelligence of imminent threats. This despite opposition from a vocal minority in Congress.’”
    Addie glanced at Whaley. She knew he’d been following this a lot more closely than she had. He always got worked up over military stuff. It was hard to gauge his reaction under the heavy makeup, but his eyes glowed with interest.
    â€œThis can’t be happening,” Mrs. Turner burst out. “Not again! Are we sure the intelligence is accurate this time? Reallysu re?”
    Dad lowered the paper. “I doubt it, don’t you?”
    â€œAnd is there a single reason to think it will do any good? Any reason in hell...” Mrs. Turner pulled out her lighter, flicked it, and then remembered she couldn’t smoke in the house. She dropped it back in her pocket with an impatient gesture. “It makes me mad! We’ve all been working so hard to stop this from happening—”
    â€œHey!” Zack spotted Addie and Whaley. “What are you guys hiding for? Is Whaley in trouble again?”
    Whaley sliced a finger across his throat, but Zack only laughed and stuck out his tongue.
    Addie gave Whaley a final once-over. Even the thick makeup couldn’t completely hide the worsening swelling under his eye. Still, you had to be looking for it, she told herself, and Dad probably wouldn’t be. Not with all the war news.
    â€œHi, Dad,” she said, stepping into the room. Whaley followed. “Hi, Mrs. T. Isn’t Almaz here yet?”
    â€œNot yet.” Dad glanced at the paper one last time and then shoved it aside. “What’s with the face paint, Whaley? I thought Addie was the one auditioning.”
    Mrs. Turner put a hand on her chest and drew in a deep breath to compose herself. She crossed the room, gave Addie a quick hug, and looked Whaley up and down. “I know I should be the last to comment on anyone’s makeup, but why, dear boy, is your skin the color of bread mold?”
    â€œJust letting Addie practice on me. What do you think?”
    There’s blood on his shirt, Addie realized. And mud. It was a nondescript lumberjack shirt, a murky reddish-brown plaid, but you could see the stains if you looked closely.
    The back door slammed and they heard feet thumping up the stairs. Almaz burst into the room, her hair in the elaborate shuruba braids she reserved for big occasions. She was wearing a purple skirt, a dark scoop-neck top, and a long white scarf.
    â€œHey, everyone!” She pulled off her scarf and twirled around happily, waving the scarf like a flag. “Guess what!”
    â€œWhat is it, Supergirl?” Whaley was grinning at her. “Why are you dressed up?”
    She waved two fingers in the air. “Respect and praise to the King County math silver medalist!”
    â€œAlmaz! That’s great!” Addie exclaimed. Whaley grabbed the end of her scarf and tugged on it. Almaz laughed and yanked it out of his hands. “Whoa! What are
you
supposed to be, Whaley? The Tin Man?”
    â€œIf he only had a brain,” Addie stage-whispered. Almaz giggled.
    â€œDo I look like the Tin Man?” Whaley went over to the mirror that hung over the mantel.
    â€œNah.” Zack stuck a crimson pencil in his mouth. “You look like a mushroom.”
    â€œWell, good,” Addie said. “That’s the effect I