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Show Twisters . . . 24 "It takes a lot of money-" Arthur always says "-to keep food on our table." And that's where we found Arthur's mother-at the kitchen table, pushing Angelique back and forth in the stroller, reading a book and eating potato salad at the same time. I really like Mrs. Darlington. She's one of those soft, cushiony types with a round face and pink cheeks who's as nice to her kids' friends as she is to her kids. Arthur headed for the fridge, so I sat down on a stool nearby. "Is that a new book, Mrs. Darlington?" I asked politely. She always liked to tell me about her books, romances she bought ten at a time with her groceries. "Oh yes, Danny," she said, shaking her head, "and I'm so disgusted with it." "How come?" "I've read to page 114 and still nothing's happened. I mean, you know, by page 114 something ought to be happening." She took another forkful of salad. "Old Shirley Mulhollow really let me down this timet" "Can I sleep over at Dan's tonight?" Arthur asked as he handed me a slice of bologna wrapped around a pickle. "Only if you're invited," she answered. Then she was off again, flipping to page 115, looking for something to happen. And that's the way it was last summer, the third of June. Without knowing it, we were all waiting for something to happen. I guess that's life, huh? The whole world is waiting around to see what will happen next. But even Shirley Mulhollow, who had sold 250,000 copies of Love's Searing Flames according to the book cover, couldn't have imagined |