Read Online My Own Revolution by Carolyn Marsden - Free Book Online Page B

deep into his pockets.
    “Mr. Ninzik!” I wave. I want to tell him that I’ve just acted against the state. I’ve rebelled. In the name of Adam Uherco and of all of us. “Mr. Ninzik!”
    He smiles briefly. When I get right up to him, he says, his mouth barely moving, “Don’t be seen with me, Patrik. It won’t be good for you.”
    So I look at the ground, then past him. I pretend I’ve never met him before. Lighting the flag on fire was stupid. It didn’t do anyone any good. It was all for myself. Striking a match wasn’t like whatever Mr. Ninzik probably did to get himself kicked out of the school.
    I walk away. When I look again, Mr. Ninzik is gone.
    I turn to see Danika walking alongside a float with flowers arranged to form a gigantic hammer and sickle. Bozek marches beside her.
    The float stops, and Bozek begins to lift the little kids down. Danika takes each one by the hand and finds the right mother. Bozek lifts. Danika delivers. The two make a good team.
    I grab a hunk of flowers off a float that’s stopped near me. I grab another hunk. I make a big hole in the hammer and sickle. I mash the petals, then throw the handfuls down. I’m tearing at more flowers when a mother asks, “What are you
doing,
young man?”
    “Nothing,” I answer, grinding the flowers under my shoe. “I’m doing nothing.”

Bela wants white icing for the cookies, but Mami tells her there’s no extra sugar.
    “Even if you stood in line for it?” Bela asks.
    “Not even if I stood for hours and hours.”
    Karel, Emil, and I are sitting on the couch, watching a Charlie Chaplin movie for the hundredth time.
    “How can that guy be a party member?” Karel asks. He’s been tinkering with a tiny train engine, trying to straighten the wheels.
    “He’s too goofy for it,” Emil says.
    “And yet . . .”
    Karel and Emil have had this discussion about a hundred times before.
    Bela comes in, licking batter off a big spoon. While Charlie Chaplin studies himself in the many mirrors, she runs around bowlegged, holding a pretend hat, copying him.
    “Bela, get out of here.” I swipe at her imaginary hat.
    “It’s my house, too.”
    “Go away.”
    She sticks her tongue out.
    I smell the cookies baking, a sweet stickiness spreading through the apartment.
    When Bela leaves, I whisper, “Danika has a big secret.”
    “What’s that?” Karel asks, leaning forward, the small engine in one hand.
    I look to the windows for peering faces. I listen to make sure that Bela is safely back in the kitchen, chattering to Mami. I beckon my friends even closer. “Her father’s joining the party.”
    Emil whistles.
    Karel sucks in air, then says, “Now Mr. Holub will be watching us.”
    “Danika will rat us out,” Emil says.
    I wish I could assure them she never would.
    Karel asks, “Do your parents know?”
    I hold a finger to my lips. “They mustn’t find out. If they knew, they’d never let Danika come here.”
    Karel makes a show of looking around. “I don’t see her here now.”
    I punch him on the shoulder, but lightly.
    “Who wants her here, anyway?” Karel asks. “She’s tight with that Commie.”
    I punch Karel harder this time.
    “Let’s get out of here,” says Emil. “Let’s go to my house. Listen to the Beatles.”
    Karel makes a face. “And get tortured by your neighbor? How about downtown instead?” He pauses, looking from Emil to me.
“We can chat up some stray pie,”
he adds in English. Having learned this phrase from Emil’s older cousin, he uses it often.
    I hesitate. Ever since the flag burning, I’ve been nervous about going out. What if people from the parade recognize me? What if they call the police?
This boy committed a dastardly deed. . . .
    But my two friends are already headed for the door. Not wanting to be left behind like the little red engine Karel set down on the table, I follow.
    Mami calls out, “Cookies will be ready in a minute.”
    I pause. A warm cookie would be nice. But Emil and