Read My Mixed-Up Berry Blue Summer for Free Online Page B

couple’s desire to marry. I read around the legal words. The House passed a bill for civil unions on March 17, 2000, then the Senate passed it, and Governor Howard Dean signed the bill into law on April 26. Right around the last softball game of sixth grade.
    I clicked on letters to the editor after April 26. The anger could almost be heard out loud. Sometimes the letter writers used words I didn’t understand, but I knew what they meant. They said that homosexuality was an “abomination” and that AIDS would spread. Some people tolerated gay people living together, but once they wanted to get married and raise children, that was where the letter writers drew the line. I scrolled down to read one letter writer who said that most gays were “pedophiles” and couldn’t be trusted around innocent children. My heart sank. I was one of those kids.
    â€œI’ve got some flyers to post; where can I put them?” Something familiar about the woman’s tone made me look up. Lauren’s mom was holding a mass of papers and pins in her hand.
    â€œThe public bulletin board is right over there,” Ms. Flynn said. Then she glanced at the notice. “Oh, I’m afraid we can’t post that in the library.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œThe bulletin board is reserved for announcements about meetings or events.”
    â€œThat’s ridiculous,” Lauren’s mother huffed. “This is important.”
    â€œI’m sorry—those are the rules.”
    She leaned into Ms. Flynn. “You’re not changing them on me, are you? Don’t tell me you’re one of those gay lovers.”
    My hands went cold. I moved behind the monitor, hiding my face.
    â€œBecause we’re taking back Vermont, you know. No hordes of homos moving in.”
    â€œI can’t allow that kind of notice posted,” Ms. Flynn said. I peeked around the computer. A red flush was creeping up her neck.
    â€œWell, you can’t stop me from handing out flyers. This is a free country.”
    â€œYes, I think that’s the point of the civil union law,” Ms. Flynn replied. “All can live as they choose, even if you don’t approve.”
    â€œHomosexuality is unnatural, especially in the eyes of God,” she said, raising her voice.
    â€œThat’s right,” someone from behind the bestsellers rack said.
    â€œI’m going to have to ask you to be quiet,” Ms. Flynn said. “This is a library.”
    â€œThen I’ll pass out my information outside,” Lauren’s mother said. No one else spoke as she humphed out the door.
    I sank low, as if the word “homosexuality” had stuck to my shirt. I hit “home,” zapping the
Free Press
site I’d been reading.
    Someone had left a book on the table next to me. I picked it up and flipped pages.
    Ms. Flynn came over. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
    I dropped the book and pushed in my chair. “Yes, thank you.”
    â€œIt’s good to see you—I’m glad you have time to read in the summer,” she said. “Are you still making pies?”
    I nodded. “I was thinking about entering the fair,” I muttered. That didn’t seem likely anymore; especially now that it looked like Mom was right about lying low.
    â€œWhat a great idea! I have some exhibitor handbooks and forms right here. Take one, won’t you?”
    I zipped it into my backpack quickly.
    â€œAnd here’s a book for your mom,” she said. “She’s going to like it. Tell her to call me, OK, June?”
    I pushed open the door, and stopped. A group was gathered around Lauren’s mother. They were standing near the bike rack. Great.
    â€œI can’t believe the librarian wouldn’t let you post this flyer,” a man was saying. “A library is for information, isn’t it?”
    â€œSome people don’t know what’s right,”