Read My Cousin's Keeper for Free Online

them having a conversation with each other. Julia’s mom walked quickly and anxiously and kept checking that Julia was keeping up. Watching this, I couldn’t quite imagine them going home to a beautiful farm.
    At the southern edge of our town, near the stockyards and warehouses, was a small knot of streets and houses that I’d heard Dad nickname Dodge City. The houses were all boxy and scruffy, and some of the rough kids at school came from here. So did a couple of the wilder guys Dad played soccer with.
    Two Saturdays after school had started back, I trailed along with Mom and Gina for a morning of going to garage sales. One was at a house in Dodge City. I felt uncomfortable being there. There was unlikely to be anything I wanted, and in a town as small as ours I would probably bump into at least one kid I knew from school. Mom was always on the lookout for old teapots and plates, Gina usually found a doll, a toy, or some clothing, and I always hoped for — but never found — old soccer collector cards, or better still, something with player autographs. This sale, as far as I was concerned, would have nothing I was interested in.
    The people had spread a few old pieces of furniture, toys, a lawn mower, and a jumble of car parts across their front lawn. Against a tree rested a tangle of old bicycles. Everything looked shabby and sad. Then a little kid came out of the house in her pajamas and exclaimed, “Mom, here’s someone from my school. It’s Gina and her big brother.” I realized then it was the Pearsons’ house, and sure enough, when the big brother appeared at the door, it was Troy from my class. He said an awkward hello, then waited hopefully in case I wanted to buy one of his old toys. I wasn’t going to, but spent a few moments looking anyway. Then I saw someone else’s feet come and stand near to mine.
    â€œHi —” I began, running right out of voice when I looked up and saw who it was. I tried again. “Hi, Julia.”
    â€œHi,” she replied, not using my name.
    â€œKieran,” I reminded her, feeling weirdly nervous.
    â€œI know. I haven’t forgotten — Kieran.”
    I glanced back at the street, thinking I would see the fancy European car or luxury SUV I’d imagined Julia might have arrived in. No sign. “Does your mom like garage sales, too?” There were other adults looking at the bargains as well, but none of them was Julia’s mom.
    She looked at me and frowned a little. “No, I walked here.”
    â€œDo you live around here?”
    â€œNo,” she replied firmly. “Over there.” And she pointed vaguely at the edge of town that led to the highway. I tried to follow her finger and figure out exactly where she meant, but all I could see was the truck stop and the trailer park. I wanted a more exact answer.
    â€œYou live over
there
?”
    Julia ignored or didn’t notice my amazement. “Well, I wouldn’t call it living there. My mom and I are staying at the trailer park for now.” She paused and added, “Same as your cousin.”
    I sighed. So she knew. “For now?” I asked. “Won’t you be around for long?”
    She tilted her head to one side. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
    â€œWhere did you live before?”
    â€œAnother town a bit like this. Out in the sticks.”
    â€œBut where?”
    â€œI can’t remember the name. Just the look of the streets and the color of the school uniform.” She looked at me. “You ask a lot of questions, for a boy.”
    It sounded strange not to remember the name of a place where you had lived. But I had run out of questions, and it seemed she was through all the answers she wanted to give.
    I glanced behind and saw Mom already holding a couple of things she was going to buy. I could tell they were things she didn’t really want, that they were being bought because she felt sorry for the people