Read Online Gib Rides Home by Zilpha Keatley Snyder - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Zilpha Keatley Snyder
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going to Miss Offenbacher’s office, immediately. He brushed Bobby aside and opened the stall door, but when he stood over Georgie and said, “All right, kid, on your feet. Get up immediately,” nothing much happened. Nothing except that Georgie tried for a long, painful minute, heaving himself up on his elbows and then collapsing again with a pitiful groan.
Mr. Harding didn’t offer to carry him. Right at first he made as if he was thinking about it, but when he bent close and got a good look at Georgie’s swollen, oozing face and maybe got a whiff of him, he changed his mind. “Get on each side of him and put his arms over your shoulders,” he told Gib and Bobby. So they did, but hanging from his arms must have hurt Georgie a lot because by the time they got to the back hallway his head had lolled over sideways and his feet were mostly just dragging. Unconscious, Gib thought, or maybe even dead.
On the way to the office Mr. Harding went ahead, opening doors and waiting for Gib and Bobby to struggle through with the dead weight of Georgie dangling between them. The back hall was empty, but as they made their way into the entryway Gib thought he heard gasps and whispers that seemed to be coming from above, and then the rapidly fading sound of retreating footsteps on the grand stairway.
The office was empty. “Put him there in the armchair,” Mr. Harding said as he left the room. “I’ll get Miss Offenbacher.”
As Gib and Bobby lowered Georgie into the chair his head flopped back helplessly and he slumped sideways over one of the arms.
“Here, you hold him up,” Gib whispered. “I’m going—”
“Going?” Bobby wailed. “Where? Don’t leave me alone, Gib. Don’t!”
At the door Gib looked back long enough to say, “Got to. Got to find Miss Mooney.”
“Don’t go. Come back,” Bobby howled. “What can she do?”
Gib didn’t know what Miss Mooney could do. Miss Offenbacher was headmistress, so she had the last say about everything, and both she and Mr. Harding were a whole lot bigger and stronger than Miss Mooney. But Gib felt sure that if Georgie had any chance at all, it would be because of Miss Mooney. Running full speed across the entry hall and up the grand staircase, he bolted down the second floor hallway, past the entrance to Junior Hall, to the door of Miss Mooney’s private room. But no one answered his first knock or even, a moment later, his frantic pounding. He was turning away in despair when he saw her coming down the hall.
“Gib, Gib,” she said, putting out both hands to keep him from crashing into her in his headlong rush. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Georgie, Miss Mooney,” Gib gasped. “Georgie Olson. He’s back. He’s in the office. I think he’s dying.”
Without waiting to ask any more questions, Miss Mooney turned and ran toward the stairs, Gib trailing behind her. At the office door she paused only long enough to knock once before she went right on in. Mr. Harding and Miss Offenbacher were standing near the desk, and Bobby, eyes bulging and chin quivering, was still propping up the sagging Georgie.
They all spoke at once.
Mr. Harding’s furious “Where have you been, Whittaker? Who gave you permission to ... overlapped Miss Offenbacher’s stern “You may leave, Miss Mooney. Mr. Harding and I can handle ...
Miss Mooney was speaking, too, but her soft, pleading “But—But Gibson says Georgie is very ill” wasn’t nearly enough. Not enough to make them listen to her, Gib thought, and not nearly enough to make them let her help Georgie. But then, just as Gib was despairing all over again, Bobby came to the rescue by letting out a dismal wail, turning loose of Georgie, and collapsing in a useless lump of misery. Georgie, no longer supported, sank down sideways and slithered limply onto the floor. A moment later Miss Mooney was kneeling beside him, lifting his eyelids, feeling the pulse in his neck, and then beginning to unwrap his
Mr. Harding didn’t offer to carry him. Right at first he made as if he was thinking about it, but when he bent close and got a good look at Georgie’s swollen, oozing face and maybe got a whiff of him, he changed his mind. “Get on each side of him and put his arms over your shoulders,” he told Gib and Bobby. So they did, but hanging from his arms must have hurt Georgie a lot because by the time they got to the back hallway his head had lolled over sideways and his feet were mostly just dragging. Unconscious, Gib thought, or maybe even dead.
On the way to the office Mr. Harding went ahead, opening doors and waiting for Gib and Bobby to struggle through with the dead weight of Georgie dangling between them. The back hall was empty, but as they made their way into the entryway Gib thought he heard gasps and whispers that seemed to be coming from above, and then the rapidly fading sound of retreating footsteps on the grand stairway.
The office was empty. “Put him there in the armchair,” Mr. Harding said as he left the room. “I’ll get Miss Offenbacher.”
As Gib and Bobby lowered Georgie into the chair his head flopped back helplessly and he slumped sideways over one of the arms.
“Here, you hold him up,” Gib whispered. “I’m going—”
“Going?” Bobby wailed. “Where? Don’t leave me alone, Gib. Don’t!”
At the door Gib looked back long enough to say, “Got to. Got to find Miss Mooney.”
“Don’t go. Come back,” Bobby howled. “What can she do?”
Gib didn’t know what Miss Mooney could do. Miss Offenbacher was headmistress, so she had the last say about everything, and both she and Mr. Harding were a whole lot bigger and stronger than Miss Mooney. But Gib felt sure that if Georgie had any chance at all, it would be because of Miss Mooney. Running full speed across the entry hall and up the grand staircase, he bolted down the second floor hallway, past the entrance to Junior Hall, to the door of Miss Mooney’s private room. But no one answered his first knock or even, a moment later, his frantic pounding. He was turning away in despair when he saw her coming down the hall.
“Gib, Gib,” she said, putting out both hands to keep him from crashing into her in his headlong rush. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Georgie, Miss Mooney,” Gib gasped. “Georgie Olson. He’s back. He’s in the office. I think he’s dying.”
Without waiting to ask any more questions, Miss Mooney turned and ran toward the stairs, Gib trailing behind her. At the office door she paused only long enough to knock once before she went right on in. Mr. Harding and Miss Offenbacher were standing near the desk, and Bobby, eyes bulging and chin quivering, was still propping up the sagging Georgie.
They all spoke at once.
Mr. Harding’s furious “Where have you been, Whittaker? Who gave you permission to ... overlapped Miss Offenbacher’s stern “You may leave, Miss Mooney. Mr. Harding and I can handle ...
Miss Mooney was speaking, too, but her soft, pleading “But—But Gibson says Georgie is very ill” wasn’t nearly enough. Not enough to make them listen to her, Gib thought, and not nearly enough to make them let her help Georgie. But then, just as Gib was despairing all over again, Bobby came to the rescue by letting out a dismal wail, turning loose of Georgie, and collapsing in a useless lump of misery. Georgie, no longer supported, sank down sideways and slithered limply onto the floor. A moment later Miss Mooney was kneeling beside him, lifting his eyelids, feeling the pulse in his neck, and then beginning to unwrap his
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