The Way to Stay in Destiny

The Way to Stay in Destiny

Augusta Scattergood

Language: English

Pages: 192

ISBN: 0545538254

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


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.

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that?” I ask, echoing and complicating her notes. “Like that Thelonious Monk piano man I do believe you’re named after,” she says over the music. I stop playing and stare. “Thelonious who?” “Your namesake. I noticed your official records when you headed off to school on Monday. Just the greatest jazz musician you could imagine.” Miss Sister beams. “Your parents knew what they were doing when they gave you that fine name.” “I was pretty little when they died. Nobody talked about my name.”

deep, worrying breath and change the subject before I start hollering again. “You ever heard of a piano player named Thelonious Monk? Miss Sister played me one of his records.” He takes a step toward me, chewing on his inside lip, frowning. “That lady needs to mind her own business,” he says, his voice a growl. “He and I got the same name. Maybe Mama and Daddy really liked his music? Maybe even knew him?” The more questions I ask, the tighter my uncle’s mouth closes up. “Never heard of him.

you heard. Mrs. Johnson thinks you stole something. She’s wrong.” I push my hands in my jeans pockets, clutching my lucky coin. “She claims you took the money.” I jerk my head up. “Money? What money?” “That the parents were collecting for a gift. In a little basket closed up tight on the radiator.” Miss Sister turns up her nose and jingles her bracelets toward the front hall. “So Beatrice Johnson says.” Anabel’s mom thinks I stole money from Miss Sister? My whole heart slows down and feels

Dawson at the bait shop remembered some of the players.” I point to the list on our big poster. “Miss Sister gave us old photographs of the Rest Easy. Anabel took pictures of the marks on the toolshed there. Probably from somebody with a strong arm tossing a baseball.” Or maybe me tossing fuzzy tennis balls, I don’t say. “Extra credit for both of you! I’ll hand this off to the Historical Society.” Mr. Wyatt collects our research report and moves on. By two o’clock, maybe the crowds have had

blush a color that matches my sno-cone. She reaches into her knapsack. “Almost forgot. Brought you something. Kind of an if-you-go-away and thank-you thing.” Nobody gives me gifts. Well, not since my uncle took over. “It’s Henry Aaron’s baseball for sure,” she says, handing me the ball from our Destiny Day display. “You saw where he’d tossed it against Miss Sister’s shed.” I shake my head. “Well, it could have been his.” I turn the ball over. Who knows? Maybe it did belong to Hammerin’ Hank

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