Read Online A Big Year for Lily by Suzanne Woods Fisher, Mary Ann Kinsinger - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Suzanne Woods Fisher, Mary Ann Kinsinger
Tags: FIC053000, JUV033010, Pennsylvania—Fiction, Friendship—Fiction, Schools—Fiction, Amish—Juvenile fiction, 1. Amish—Fiction, Family life—Pennsylvania—Fiction
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in the story. A couple of flies buzzed through the open window and circled around her. There was nothing quite so annoying as a fly buzzing around your head when you were trying to read. Though, Lily thought, having a mosquito buzz around your head when you were trying to sleep was equally annoying. She closed the window firmly and heard a thump and rattle outside the door. She paused to listen, but didnât hear anything more, so she went back to her book.
The next thing Lily knew, she heard a little fluttering sound. A familiar, horrible fluttering sound. Something whirred past her face. She shrieked and ducked, covered her head with her arms, then opened one eye carefully to peep under her elbow. A bat! She shielded her head with her book and ran to the door. The handle turned but the door didnât open. She tried again but it still didnât move an inch. She used her shoulder to push on the door as hard as she could, but it was no use. The door was stuck.
Lily felt a spike of worry. Hunger, too. The sun was starting to lay low in the sky. She had stayed in the attic room much longer than she had planned to. Why hadnât Mama called her to come help with supper? Then it dawned on herâno one knew where she had gone. She hadnât told Joseph. Maybe Mama did call for her and Lily hadnât heard her.
Lily started to panic. What if no one ever found her? What if she starved to death up in this attic? The bat flew past again, swooping and dipping. How had it gotten into this room? From the corner of her eye, she saw something dark slip through the attic duct, then unfold its wings and dart across the ceiling. Another bat!
Tears started streaming down Lilyâs face as she poundedon the door and called for help. She became hot and sweaty from pounding. Her throat grew hoarse from shouting. She slipped down against the door and sat on the floor, worn out from pounding and calling. Oh this was terrible. Just terrible! She was going to die. She was going to die in this stuffy, bat-infested attic. Someday, Mama and Papa would go to the attic and find a pile of bones. Lily bones.
She sank into a ball by the door, trying to make herself as small as possible. She covered her head with her apron, but then wasnât sure if it would be better to actually see the bats flying around again and know for certain where they were, or not to see them and wonder. She alternated between peeking at the bats and hiding from them. Now there were three batsâswooping, whirring, diving, and darting as if they were having the time of their lives. Soon, she was sure, there would be hundreds. They probably held bat parties each night in her beautiful attic bedroom.
She tried not to cry again. She didnât want to cry. But she was scared and worried and one tear started, then another and another. She wiped her eyes with the apron and noticed that the sky had grown even darker. The first evening star twinkled at her through the little window.
The window.
The window! Why hadnât Lily thought of the window? She ran across the room and opened it. The cool evening air felt as good and refreshing as a drink of water. She stuck her head outside the window. âHelp!â she shouted, as loudly as she could.
Far below, near the barn, Papa froze when he heard her voice call out. âLily! Lily!â Papa yelled, turning in a circle to locate her. âLily, where are you? Mama and I have been looking everywhere for you!â
Lily waved and waved. âIâm here, Papa! Up here!â
Papa looked up toward the attic and saw her. âWhat are you doing up there?â
âI canât get out!â She cupped her hands. âAND THERE ARE BATS IN HERE!â
âIâm coming!â Papa bolted up to the house.
Lily was so relieved. She wouldnât end up as a pile of bones, after all. She closed the window and hurried to the door to wait for Papa.
Lily could hear Papa doing something on
The next thing Lily knew, she heard a little fluttering sound. A familiar, horrible fluttering sound. Something whirred past her face. She shrieked and ducked, covered her head with her arms, then opened one eye carefully to peep under her elbow. A bat! She shielded her head with her book and ran to the door. The handle turned but the door didnât open. She tried again but it still didnât move an inch. She used her shoulder to push on the door as hard as she could, but it was no use. The door was stuck.
Lily felt a spike of worry. Hunger, too. The sun was starting to lay low in the sky. She had stayed in the attic room much longer than she had planned to. Why hadnât Mama called her to come help with supper? Then it dawned on herâno one knew where she had gone. She hadnât told Joseph. Maybe Mama did call for her and Lily hadnât heard her.
Lily started to panic. What if no one ever found her? What if she starved to death up in this attic? The bat flew past again, swooping and dipping. How had it gotten into this room? From the corner of her eye, she saw something dark slip through the attic duct, then unfold its wings and dart across the ceiling. Another bat!
Tears started streaming down Lilyâs face as she poundedon the door and called for help. She became hot and sweaty from pounding. Her throat grew hoarse from shouting. She slipped down against the door and sat on the floor, worn out from pounding and calling. Oh this was terrible. Just terrible! She was going to die. She was going to die in this stuffy, bat-infested attic. Someday, Mama and Papa would go to the attic and find a pile of bones. Lily bones.
She sank into a ball by the door, trying to make herself as small as possible. She covered her head with her apron, but then wasnât sure if it would be better to actually see the bats flying around again and know for certain where they were, or not to see them and wonder. She alternated between peeking at the bats and hiding from them. Now there were three batsâswooping, whirring, diving, and darting as if they were having the time of their lives. Soon, she was sure, there would be hundreds. They probably held bat parties each night in her beautiful attic bedroom.
She tried not to cry again. She didnât want to cry. But she was scared and worried and one tear started, then another and another. She wiped her eyes with the apron and noticed that the sky had grown even darker. The first evening star twinkled at her through the little window.
The window.
The window! Why hadnât Lily thought of the window? She ran across the room and opened it. The cool evening air felt as good and refreshing as a drink of water. She stuck her head outside the window. âHelp!â she shouted, as loudly as she could.
Far below, near the barn, Papa froze when he heard her voice call out. âLily! Lily!â Papa yelled, turning in a circle to locate her. âLily, where are you? Mama and I have been looking everywhere for you!â
Lily waved and waved. âIâm here, Papa! Up here!â
Papa looked up toward the attic and saw her. âWhat are you doing up there?â
âI canât get out!â She cupped her hands. âAND THERE ARE BATS IN HERE!â
âIâm coming!â Papa bolted up to the house.
Lily was so relieved. She wouldnât end up as a pile of bones, after all. She closed the window and hurried to the door to wait for Papa.
Lily could hear Papa doing something on
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