The Way to Stay in Destiny
The Way to Stay in Destiny
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When Theo gets off a bus in Destiny, Florida, he's left behind the only life he's ever known. Now he's got to live with Uncle Raymond, a Vietnam War vet and a loner who wants nothing to do with this long-lost nephew. Thank goodness for Miss Sister Grandersole's Boarding House and Dance School. The piano that sits in Miss Sister's dance hall calls to Theo. He can't wait to play those ivory keys. When Anabel arrives things get even more enticing. This feisty girl, a baseball fanatic, invites Theo on her quest to uncover the town's connection to old-time ball players rumored to have lived there years before. A mystery, an adventure, and a musical exploration unfold as this town called Destiny lives up to its name.
Acclaimed author Augusta Scattergood has delivered a straight-to-the-heart story with unforgettable characters, humor, and hard questions about loss, family, and belonging.
finally rings, I dart out the door. Shielding my eyes from the sun that bounces off the blacktop, I walk fast, patting my pocket about fifteen times. Yep, still there. I turn the corner, head for the Rest Easy’s front porch, and sink onto the front steps. I unfold the note and read: Dear Theo, Meet me near the beach at Dawson’s Bait Shop. Tomorrow, 3:30 sharp. Don’t be late! Your friend, Anabel Wow, Anabel! My friend Anabel wants to go fishing? Maybe walk over to the beach? But my uncle’s
uncle. “You play the guitar?” “Not no more I don’t.” His voice is barely a whisper over the gusting wind and the squawking gulls. I rub the smooth coin, maybe for luck, maybe looking for a memory. “Granddaddy drilled a hole in it so my mama could wear it around her neck.” “Don’t you go wearing no jewelry around your neck.” I narrow my eyes at Uncle Raymond. “Well, maybe this,” he says, finally smiling. “Didn’t Mama learn to play the piano at church? Same as me?” I ask. His voice gets
and head downstairs just as the hall phone rings. Miss Sister listens, then slams it down. “Anabel! Claiming she’s sicker than a dog and something about an injury. Humph. That child has been wheedling out of dance practice since she figured out what a baseball bat was good for.” Miss Sister raises her eyebrows in a question, but I’m not lying about Anabel’s sore throat, sprained toe, or whatever else she’s dreamed up to skip out of the recital. And she’d better be at our Destiny Day booth. I
myself, right? “Yessum. I’ll start school Monday.” I glance down at my balled-up fists, then back at Miss Sister. “But I don’t know about the piano. My uncle said not to play.” “Why on God’s green earth not?” she says. “That’s just plain silly.” “I don’t think he appreciates my music. Hate to make him mad.” Mad enough to up and leave me at some foster home and never come back is what I don’t say. “A fine, polite boy like you make anybody mad? I bet that’s just not possible.” She pats my hand
the side mirror. She straightens her hat and peers over huge sunglasses. “I’ll be at my Destiny Day Art in the Park meeting. Enjoy your tap class, Anabel dear,” she calls out. “Bye, Mom” is all the girl says. Then the car tires crunch in the gravel, the convertible pulls away, and that lady doesn’t even notice her six-foot-long scarf caught in the door, waving like a flag on the Fourth of July. Grabbing our laundry, I head downstairs and onto the porch just as the girl tosses her knapsack and