Goldeline by Jimmy Cajoleas (i read books txt) 📕

way or the other. But Momma believed in ghosts, and she taught me how to be quiet and listen for them. The woods are the best place for ghosts, like it’s here they feel most free to show up. I saw a beautiful pale woman drink fire from the creek one night, and I heard a little baby wailing in the dark where no one was. But I’ve never seen a breathing person here.

We pass a bunch of redbud trees in full bloom, which are my favorite because they aren’t red at all, they’re bright sunset purple, like a trader woman’s scarf. Tommy doesn’t see any of it though. He’s just arms crossed, huffing along like I’m leading him on to his death.

“Perk up,” I say. “It’s just a stupid bath, Tommy.”

“It’s a bath with a bunch of dirty things.”

“Well, you’re right about that. But you ever seen a dirty fish?”

“Yeah I have. I seen plenty of dirty fish at the market. Dirty fish, and they stink and got flies all over them.”

“But you ever seen a dirty fish in a river?” I say.

Tommy stops to think about it. He puts a freckly finger to his lip.

“No, I guess not. I guess I never have.”

“Nothing cleaner in the world than a river fish. They don’t start to stink till they get caught. Now I’m about to bathe you in free water.”

We break the tree line and come to the creek. It isn’t much, no river or anything, but it pools up just a little bit upstream, into a baby-type waterfall. There’s always a snake or two, but if you’re loud and let them know you’re coming and don’t spook them, then you’re fine. I take a stick and bash the water around with it.

“We’re coming, snakes!” I say. “Don’t you get scared.”

“Snakes?” says Tommy.

“Oh, hush up. It’s just a formality.”

“A what?”

“Nothing. Lookee, we’re here.”

The creek really is something beautiful. The zigzaggy waterfall, the pool at the bottom, the rock floor where you can even see your toes it’s so clean. Not a lot of creeks like that around here. Most are dirty, the color of runny dump. But this creek is my creek. It’s special. I haven’t thought of a good name for it yet.

“See? I told you this creek was something else,” I say. “It might be the most magical place in the whole woods.”

“I don’t believe in magic,” says Tommy. “That’s just kids’ stuff.”

“But you believe in angels?”

“Of course I do,” he says. “You’re standing right there, aren’t you?”

“I am,” I say, “but you can only see me because I let you. The whole world’s chock-full of things you can’t see. They’re all around you, whether you believe in them or not. Now get on in that water already, we ain’t got all day.”

While Tommy bathes, I turn around and gander off at a dogwood tree, the little bloody drops on its flowers. There’s an old story about dogwoods, how one time a dogwood tree held a man who was in such great pain that it stained the blossoms forever. That’s a flower story I can understand, even if it’s just made up. Maybe even the dogwood tree knows it’s made up and plays along anyway. You got to like a tree who will do something like that.

Yeah, or maybe the tree really believes it, and that’s what makes its flowers so pretty. Can faith make you pretty? Or is it just being a sucker? I listen to Tommy splash around in the water, giggling to himself, and I’m thinking that this kid is the most gullible person I ever met. I mean, I told him I was an angel and he actually believed me. You don’t get much more gullible than that. But maybe that’s something good about him. Maybe that means I got to protect him.

Speaking of, I got to get back to camp soon, lest Gruff or somebody starts missing me.

“Hurry it up, will you?” I holler.

“Why? The water’s nice,” he says. “And there’s a turtle over there.”

“Because I got angel stuff to do. I can’t just sit here all day while you float around, pointing out the wildlife.”

“What kind of angel stuff?”

I keep my back to him, but I’m starting to get mad.

“The kind that’ll flat burn your ears out if I told you,” I say. “Now if you don’t get out of that water this second, I’m dragging you out by your neck, you hear me?”

Walking back to our tree, Tommy won’t even look at me.

“Aw, come on,” I say. “What’s the matter?”

“You’re mean for an angel,” he says. “And where are you always sneaking off to? Where do you get the food and all that?”

“Don’t you remember what happens in the Book any time an angel shows up? Everyone gets scared. They hit the dirt they’re quaking so bad. I got on my girl suit right now because otherwise I’d straight scare the hellfire from you. You wouldn’t even be able to look at me. You’d fall down and try to worship me, same as everyone else in the Book.”

“Worship you?” he says. “Fat chance.”

I turn to him with my fiercest angel scowl, as much mean and Gruff as I can summon. “What did you say to me?”

“Nothing.”

The kid’s shaking all over. I hate to spook him like that, but hopefully it scared him out of asking me any more questions. I don’t know how long I can keep up this angel business. I don’t know why I started it in the first place. It seemed like a game, I guess. But it’ll be bad news if Tommy ever figures it out.

“Now you stay put,” I say. “I’m going to go get you some grub.”

“Can’t I come with you?” he says. “I’m sick of sitting around here, waiting.”

“Didn’t I already tell you about angel business?” I say.

“Fine,” he says.

I head back into the trees. But before I get too far I stop and turn back to Tommy. He’s sitting there on the