Disappearances Read Online Free Page A

at the fire hall, remember? That auction in August.”
    “See, that shouldn’t be allowed. That’s too much display … of … Well, it’s just too worldly, parading a quilt like that at a fire hall. Likely it was raffled off or whatever, and that’s too much like gambling, and that’s strictly verboten , you know that.”
    Mam became so agitated she started scraping leftover crusts of French toast into the garbage, her face with heightened color, her nostrils flaring.
    Rebekah winked broadly at Sadie, with the sort of look that said, “Mam’s just jealous,” but in a loving way. You could never hate your mother. You could get irritated, even angry for a short time, but if she had a whole list of failures, you sort of loved even the shortcomings. Mam so obviously prided herself in her own ability to piece outstanding quilts that this sort of news was a bit much.
    After the conversation lagged, Anna got up, saying she had a dress to sew, so Rebekah and Sadie could do the dishes.
    “What color are you making?” Sadie asked.
    Anna brought out a three-yard piece of fabric, the color a hue of brilliant magenta with a decided stripe in it.
    “Mam!” Sadie gasped. She was clearly shocked.
    Why would Mam allow a color that bold, a stripe that pronounced? She obviously hadn’t. Calmly, Mam laid down her plate, then came over to peer at the offending color and texture.
    “Where did you get this, Anna?”
    “Walmart.”
    Anna’s eyes were very large in her too-thin face, the angle of her beautiful cheekbone so pronounced, her chin so tiny, the cleft in it showing so plainly. Her dress, as usual, hung on her thin frame, gathered about her tiny waist by the broad belt of her apron.
    Anna was the youngest and battled eating disorders. With little sense of self-worth, always appearing overweight and ugly in her own eyes, she had taken to purging. Sadly loathing herself and her pitiful ability to be a friend, she felt she had nothing to contribute to a conversation or any circumstance in which she found herself. Anna was one of the reasons it had been difficult for Sadie, often acting as a mentor to her troubled sister, to leave home.
    Mam pursed her lips now and said evenly, “I hope you know I can’t let you make a dress with that fabric, Anna.”
    It was all Anna needed to release the spring of tension, the bottled up volcano of rebellion against Mam, or Sadie, or anyone who tried to take this dress away from her. It was completely essential that she wear this dress, the object that would surely grab and keep Neil Hershberger’s faithful devotion.
    “Oh, no! You’re not taking this dress away from me!” she shouted, her beautiful eyes already forming tears. “I paid for it with my own money! No. You’re not. I’m going to wear it!”
    She turned, sobbing, running up the steps, the priceless magenta-colored fabric clutched tightly to her thin chest.
    Mam started to follow, a hand out, calling her name, but Sadie stopped her. “I’ll go after awhile.”
    “I don’t know what to do. She is so different from all you other girls. I plum don’t know how to handle it.”
    With that, Mam sat down wearily, suddenly overcome with her daughter’s rebellion coupled with Fred Ketty’s 900 dollar quilt.
    “Mam, you know her whole problem is that she has to be on top of the pile,” Rebekah said harshly.
    “Ach, Rebekah,” Mam said sadly.
    “I’m serious. She can’t give up. If that would have been me, you would not have been overwhelmed very long. Bingo! In the trash! Subject closed!”
    Mam laughed, her plump stomach shaking with mirth. “Now stop it,” she said, still laughing.
    When Sadie got to Anna’s room, she found it hard to see her sister that way, lying on her stomach, as close to the wall as she could get, her fingers in her ears the minute Sadie opened the door. Human nature made Sadie feel like smacking her, calling her a big baby, and telling her to get off that bed this minute, go eat something,