Read A Summer of Kings for Free Online

anything out loud, but I thought it often enough."
    "How come you didn't say anything, then?" King-Roy asked, setting his suitcase down as if he thought he was going to be staying in my room. "Were you afraid to?"
    I shrugged. "Maybe a little. It wouldn't have been very nice, would it? And I figured she probably called me the Little Stinker because she wanted people to see she wasn't the only one with problems. She only went to our school for a year. She didn't know me when I had my crossed eyes, thank goodness. Anyway, this is my room. I just thought you'd like to see it."
    Most of the time my room was messy. Not a bad messy—with dirt and cookie crumbs and cockroaches or anything—but a good messy, with books and papers and clothes and sports equipment. I had cleaned it before King-Roy arrived, and as long as he didn't look in my closet, my room looked as neat as Stewart and Sophia always kept theirs.
    King-Roy whistled. "This room's like a palace," he said.
    I pointed out the real gold used to paint the carved work in the wood molding that runs around the top of the walls, and the way one side of my room looks just like a stage, the way it bows out with the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lily pool and pavilion. King-Roy crossed the threshold and went over to the windows to look out.
    "Nice," he said.
    "That's why Beatrice Bonham, the actress, wants my room," I said, joining King-Roy at my windows. "She loves gold and diamonds and fur coats, and, of course, she loves the stage. My room is the most fancy room in the house except for my parents'. Look." I turned and pointed to my bed and chest of drawers. "That's all hand painted—those flower bouquets and the gold."
    King-Roy crossed his arms in front of him and examined the furniture a moment, then said, "I don't know, maybe, but it doesn't seem like you and this room go together."
    I shrugged. "My mother chose this room for me, so it's special even if I don't really care for it. I think she thinks if I live in a feminine room, I'll become more feminine. I think she worries about that—that I'm not turning out right or something." I shrugged. "Anyway, I like that Beatrice wants this room and I have it. It drives her crazy. She's always scheming to get it away from me." I looked up at King-Roy and felt this giddiness travel through me. I couldn't believe that here we were talking about school troubles and my room and what I liked to wear and about my mother. My jaw trembled with the excitement of getting to tell about myself to someone, knowing that he was listening.
    "You know what?" I said. "I believe you're going to be the first houseguest I've ever really liked."
    King-Roy smiled, then turned back around and gazed through the windows. I watched him staring down at the lily pond. I studied his face and noticed how flat his nose looked from the side and how sad it made him look somehow, and I knew somebody as gentle and sad-looking as King-Roy could never be a killer. I smiled to myself and joined him looking down on the lily pond and the fields and gardens. After a few minutes King-Roy turned his head and said, "You ever had a day, or maybe just a moment, that changed your life forever?"
    I shrugged and crossed my arms in front of me. "I don't know."
    "Oh, you'd know it if you did. It happens and then all of a sudden you aren't thinking the same about anything anymore. Everything's changed."
    "What happened? What was your moment?"
    Before he could answer me we heard footsteps on the stairs, and I tensed up. "That's her," I said. "That's my mother. Please, don't tell her I said 'piss,' okay? She doesn't like me talking like that."
    King-Roy nodded. "All right," he said.
    We moved over to the doorway of my room and watched my mother walking down the hallway. I could tell by the company smile she wore that Auntie Pie hadn't told her about the gun yet. If she had, I knew King-Roy would be out the door and on his way back to Alabama and I wouldn't be able to bear