Me and Rupert Goody by Barbara O'Connor Page B

away.
    â€œJennalee!” he called in a voice I hardly knew.
    We grabbed each other and held on for dear life. When Rupert came out again, Uncle Beau pulled away from me and tried to grab Rupert.
    â€œStop it, Rupert!” he yelled in a hoarse voice that I could barely hear over the noise of the fire.

    Rupert didn’t stop.
    â€œP-l-e-a-s-e stop!” Uncle Beau hollered, his voice all hoarse and pitiful. Then he dropped to his knees beside the growing pile of stuff that Rupert kept hauling out of the store. He held his chest and coughed and I prayed with all my might that he wasn’t going to up and die.
    I ran to him and knelt beside him. All we could do was hold each other and watch Rupert. By then, he was covered with black soot, coughing like crazy, with a look on his face like he didn’t see one thing but what he held in his arms. Boxes and bags and cans. Moccasins and tom-tom drums.
    I could hear crashing inside the store and then I threw up. I wiped my face with my shirttail. Then I jumped up and ran at Rupert full steam ahead. I grabbed him around the waist and pushed with all my might. We hit the ground with a thud that took my breath away.
    â€œStop it, Rupert!” I screamed, shaking his shoulders so hard his head whipped back and forth. “Stop it,” I said again, softer this time. His eyes finally met mine and for the first time I could tell he was really seeing me. “Stop it, Rupert,” I said, giving him one more shake.
    As soon as we got ourselves up off the ground, Uncle Beau come staggering over and pulled Rupert to him. I watched them there in the parking lot, in front of the burning store, beside that pathetic pile of groceries, holding each other and crying like I never heard nobody crying before in my life and hope to never hear again.

    Then Uncle Beau held out his arm and motioned for me. I could barely get my feet to move, but somehow I managed to join their crying, hugging heap. I don’t know how long we stood like that, clinging to each other, arms all tangled up and heads leaning together.
    Then all of a sudden Rupert jerked his head up and looked toward the store. Before me or Uncle Beau could figure out what the heck he was doing, Rupert took off running toward the store again. By now, the flames were leaping out of the windows. Uncle Beau hollered for Rupert to stop, but he disappeared inside.
    Uncle Beau said, “Rupert,” real low under his breath, and started toward the store.
    I took off after him. If he was going in there, then I was going in, too.
    I thank the Good Lord to this day that, before we got to the porch, Rupert come out, coughing and sputtering. Uncle Beau grabbed the front of his shirt and shook like crazy.
    â€œWhat the hell you doing, Rupert?” he hollered. “Get hold of yourself.”
    Rupert dropped to the ground and took big gulps of air. Then he held something up for Uncle Beau. Through my burning, tearing eyes I could tell it was that wrinkled picture of Hattie. Hattie Baker, smiling out at us from the cool shade of that tree.
    And that was the exact moment that I knew it. Knew there was something powerful holding Uncle Beau and Rupert
together. Knew Rupert had something in him behind that veil of crazy that Uncle Beau had seen all along. And as I watched Rupert that day, loving Uncle Beau like that, I knew that it was true. Me and Rupert Goody had a lot in common.

Fifteen
    â€œBut it ain’t my turn!” Marny stamped her foot and glared at me.
    â€œHush up and do them dishes like I told you,” Mama said, lighting a cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke up to the ceiling.
    â€œShe ain’t never even here, Mama,” Marny whined. “The only thing she does here is sleep. Why don’t she just go on and move in with that old geezer and his retard helper or son or whatever the hell he is.”
    Mama did what I wanted to do. Slapped her silly. I figured I’d just sit back and