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Chocolate-Covered Baloney

Page 21

by KD McCrite


  “Are you glad to be home?” I said.

  A peculiar expression flickered over her face.

  “Yes,” she said. “I missed you so much! Oh, it’s awful out there away from Mama and Daddy and our home.” She looked me in the eye and said, “April Grace, you must promise me you will never run away from home, no matter how bad you think you want something.”

  “I won’t!” I promised. I planned to live right here on Rough Creek Road and nowhere else, if I could ever help it.

  “Maybe someday I’ll be famous,” she said, “but I don’t want to go away from here just yet.”

  Boy, oh boy. That bus trip must have been an eye-opening experience, and I planned to worm every detail out of my sister at some point. Maybe tonight we could pitch a tent in my bedroom and camp out on the floor, and we’d talk about everything. But I had to know one thing right then.

  “Did you get in big trouble?” I asked, ’cause I hardly saw how she could get away with running off that way and scaring everybody the way she’d done. But I didn’t think she’d get punished when we were all so glad she was home, safe and sound.

  “I’m not allowed to talk on the phone or go anywhere with my friends for an entire month, and I can’t ever shut my bedroom door again except when I’m changing clothes, and I have to keep my room as clean as you keep yours from now on.”

  “Good gravy! You gonna be able to do all that?”

  She shrugged. “I guess I better. If I don’t, I have to move in with you so I can’t have any secrets. And I can’t wear my Days of Our Lives clothes anymore.” She looked down at her outfit. “Daddy said I have to dress my age, and I have to give Mama almost all my makeup. She said I can have it back when I’m older.”

  “Wow. Well, I’ll show you how to keep your room clean,” I said, although at that moment, I was so glad she was home safe, I reckon I’d have been plenty happy to share my room with her again. For a while, anyway.

  Isabel came trotting down the porch steps, her hair sticking up in tufts, and she was still wearing the black slacks and turtleneck shirt she’d worn the day before. When the others went home last night, Isabel stayed with me, God bless her heart. She slept right on the sofa so she’d hear when everybody came home.

  “Darling girl!” she said, wrapping her long, skinny arms around Myra and kissing her cheek.

  Tired and rumpled as she was, Myra Sue suddenly set up the biggest howl-fest you ever heard, crying her tired eyes out on Isabel’s shoulder.

  “Isabel!” she hollered, hanging on to that woman while Isabel patted her back and hugged her.

  “Don’t you ever leave us again!” she said. She looked into Myra’s big baby blues. “You hear me?”

  “Yes, Isabel dearest,” Myra Sue blubbered. “I won’t.”

  We all stood around, grinning and happy, hardly noticing the cold air, when Isabel said, “Come inside where it’s warm, everyone. I’ve got a fresh pot of coffee on.”

  “That sounds good to me!” Mimi said.

  “You and me both,” Grandma said, smiling at Mimi. “Just be careful going up the steps, Sandra. You’re carrying our grandson.”

  “I’ll be extra careful,” Mimi promised. “Come on, girls!”

  I was so glad everyone was safely back, and things had worked out, that I stood back for a minute and watched. You know what I saw? I’ll tell you. I saw my whole entire family go home, that’s what.

  THE END

  Author’s Note

  You may be wondering why I chose to set the Confessions of April Grace series in the 1980s—the decade of big hair, shoulder pads, and Bill Cosby. I have a few reasons.

  The 1980s is an era that stirs the interest of today’s youth. The culture, the fashion, the music—all of these seem somewhat exotic to kids of the twenty-first century. Their parents were young during that time, and the Confessions books are a way to show kids that, no matter what era you grow up in, your problems and issues echo and reflect the problems and issues of days gone by. What you experience is new to you, but it’s not new.

  I wanted to write stories where modern technology does not help my characters solve their problems. April Grace can’t Google her concerns and easily resolve her curiosity. She must think and study; she must be innovative; she must turn to others. April and Myra are not in constant contact with their friends via cell phones. Instead, their time at home is spent primarily with their family and neighbors.

  I hope the Confessions of April Grace continues rouse the interest of kids while taking their parents on a fun trip back to their own youthful days.

 

 

 


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