Excerpt
Footer Davis Probably is Crazy andlt;link rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../styles/9781481422789.css"andgt; andlt;h2 andgt;andlt;a id="page_1"andgt;andlt;/aandgt;CHAPTERandlt;/h2andgt; andlt;h2 andgt;1andlt;/h2andgt; andlt;BRandgt;andlt;img src="../images/common.jpg" alt="images"andgt;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;h2 andgt;Nine Days After the Fireandlt;/h2andgt; andlt;BRandgt;The day my mother exploded a copperhead snake with an elephant gun, I decided I was genetically destined to become a felon or a big-game hunter. That was good, since I had tried being a ballerina, poet, artist, and musician, and I sucked at all of those.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Mom cleaned out a third of the water from our backyard pond with the snake shot, but that wasnand#8217;t the best part. and#8220;You flew backward up the hill seven whole feet.and#8221; I prodded her hip with my toe. and#8220;That was special. You should try out for the circus.and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;The air smelled like spring flowers and gunpowder. Mom grunted and said something like and#8220;crouton,and#8221; and something else that sounded like a swear word. She was probably trying to tell me to burn the snakeand#8217;s carcass, because thatand#8217;s what she did with all the snakes she killed.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;andlt;a id="page_2"andgt;andlt;/aandgt;and#8220;We donand#8217;t have to burn the snake,and#8221; I told her. and#8220;Nothing left of this one.and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Momand#8217;s red hair splayed across the pine needles under her head, and her pretzel-shaped barrettes glittered in the sunlight. I couldnand#8217;t stand those barrettes. They looked like something little kids wore. A bruise was spreading across Momand#8217;s shoulder and chest. The elephant gun lay in the holly bushes across the yard. Wicked. I couldnand#8217;t believe it flew that far. My BB gun, Louise, punched like a scared little sister when I fired her. Dadand#8217;s big rifle had to kick like a rhinoceros.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;I was carrying Louise because Peavine and his sister, Angel, were on their way over so we could go searching for two kids who went missing after a fire, but I figured I should keep Louise out of Momand#8217;s line of sight. I set her down behind me, careful to keep my hand on her barrel so I didnand#8217;t drop her in the grass. After that kickback, one look at a BB gun might send Mom straight into a screaming fit.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Mom had on green eye shadow that matched her shirt and sandals and her brand-new bruise. The sandals had green sparklies, too, the same color as her eyes, which I couldnand#8217;t see because she kept squeezing them shut. and#8220;Dadand#8217;s gonna be ticked that you pried open his gun case,and#8221; I said.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#8220;Crouton,and#8221; Mom mumbled. And then I realized she was trying to say, and#8220;Call your father,and#8221; except she couldnand#8217;t open her mouth all the way.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;andlt;a id="page_3"andgt;andlt;/aandgt;and#8220;Itand#8217;s okay,and#8221; I told her. and#8220;I hear sirens. They might be after you, but Captain Armstrongand#8217;s charging up and down the main road in his running clothes and hollering and#8216;INCOMING,and#8217; so maybe itand#8217;s him they want.and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#8220;Fontana. Call. Your father.and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#8220;Fiiiine.and#8221; She just had to use my proper name. Blech. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and speed-dialed Dad while I asked her, and#8220;Arenand#8217;t you glad he won the fight about getting me a phone?and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Mom didnand#8217;t answer.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;The phone rang twice before Dad picked up with, and#8220;Honey, you know Iand#8217;m busy.and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;I could hear people talking in the background because he worked as a dispatch officer in Bugtussle, Mississippiand#8217;s 9-1-1 call center. It was an important job, and a good one to have, with Mom as his wife and me as his daughter.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#8220;Mom shot a copperhead with your old Nitro Express rifle,and#8221; I told him. and#8220;Weand#8217;ll be picking snake guts off the roof for a year.and#8221;andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;It got so quiet on Dadand#8217;s end that I could almost make out what the other operators were saying. A lot of those calls were probably about the blast that just came from Sixty Erlanger Lane, because canon fire was unusual in our neighborhood. We lived on a nice cul-de-sac, in a big house with a basement that backed up to a pond in front of some woods. In Mississippi, all water had snakes, especially if it was muddy. Snakes andlt;a id="page_4"andgt;andlt;/aandgt;didnand#8217;t care what kind of neighborhood you lived in.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;Mom groaned and shifted on the ground. A piece of mangled copperhead blopped off a nearby pine branch, which would have grossed me out if I had been a normal girl, but I was so far from normal, it wasnand#8217;t even funnyand#8212;except, of course, when it was.andlt;BRandgt; andlt;BRandgt;and#8220;Iand#8217;ll be right home,and#8221; Dad said. I waited for it, and a second later it came. and#8220;Iand#8217;m sorry, Footer. I know this has got to stop.and#8221;