Read Online The Boys Start the War by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor - Free Book Online
Authors: Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
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electric sander on an old dresser Mother wanted refinished, and she was upstairs working on her quilt, the radio going beside her.
Peter was supposed to have had his bath and be in bed, but because the boys had promised, they agreed to take him with them if they could get him out of the house unseen.
“We’re going down to the bridge, Mom,” Wally called to his mother. “Be back in a little while.”
“Don’t you go picking up poison ivy, now,” Mrs. Hatford called, trying to hold a needle between her lips as she spoke, then running it through the quilt again.
“We won’t. We’ll stay out the path,” Wally said.
There was no answer. Mother was humming along with the radio.
“C’mon,” Wally whispered into Peter’s room,and the small boy tiptoed after them, his untied sneakers sticking out below his pajama bottoms.
They whispered all the way across the bridge, even though they didn’t have to be quiet there. By the time they got to Island Avenue on the other side, they weren’t saying anything at all. Josh had the green zombie mask with the gray eyes; Jake had the flashlight, and Wally and Peter were going along as lookouts.
It was a good thing the Malloys didn’t have any dogs, Wally thought, because a dog would have heard them coming as soon as they crossed the bridge. As it was the boys kept to the shadows, and all strained to see if there was a light on in righthand bedroom above the front porch—Beth’s room. There was. Wally and Jake poked each other and grinned. They crept up the side of the Malloys’ driveway and opened the door of the garage.
Squeeeak! They froze in their tracks. All faces turned toward the house. But no one appeared at the windows, no one came to the door, and at last, convinced they were undetected, they picked up the long ladder, Wally at one end, Jake at the other, and carried it silently over to the bedroom in the corner.
Again they watched. Again they waited. Still no one came.
“Ready?” Jake whispered.
Josh nodded and slipped on the zombie mask. Wally sucked in his breath.
Flashlight in hand, Josh started up the rungs.
He was going as quietly as he could, Wally could tell, but even then the ladder seemed to make a kind of pung, pung sound with each step.
“Shhhh,” warned Jake below. Josh stopped and waited. Nobody came. He went on.
Wally and his brothers watched. Josh stopped and adjusted the mask. He went up two more rungs until he was right outside Beth’s window. At that very minute the light inside went out. And a second later, Josh’s flashlight came on. He tapped, then bobbed up and down, this way and that.
There was a scream from inside—a cross between a train whistle and a fire alarm.
Whipping off his mask, Josh came down the ladder two rungs at a time.
They could hear Mr. Malloy yelling, “Beth? What’s wrong?” Footsteps. More yelling. Voices.
The boys sprinted back down the driveway, watching the house over their shoulders. Wally faced forward again to see a baseball cap coming toward them, but there was no time to prevent a collision.
Wham! Crunch!
“Going somewhere?” came Eddie’s voice.
“Yikes!” hollered Wally as a hand grabbed his shirt. He had never known that a tall, skinny girl could be so strong. She seemed to have Josh by the collar as well, dragging them both back toward the house. Wally wrestled free, but collided again, this time with Jake, and then he tripped over Peter. Inthe dark it was hard to see which arm belonged to whom.
“What are you guys up to anyway?” asked Eddie, but the boys got away and ran pell-mell to the bridge.
“You got the flashlight?” Jake asked Wally breathlessly.
“Heck, no. You were carrying it.”
“I thought you grabbed it,” Josh said. “Someone did!”
But that someone was already inside the house.
C aroline was standing in the bathroom, practicing expressions in the mirror. She had actually been studying her eyebrows to see what they did when she went from sad to
Peter was supposed to have had his bath and be in bed, but because the boys had promised, they agreed to take him with them if they could get him out of the house unseen.
“We’re going down to the bridge, Mom,” Wally called to his mother. “Be back in a little while.”
“Don’t you go picking up poison ivy, now,” Mrs. Hatford called, trying to hold a needle between her lips as she spoke, then running it through the quilt again.
“We won’t. We’ll stay out the path,” Wally said.
There was no answer. Mother was humming along with the radio.
“C’mon,” Wally whispered into Peter’s room,and the small boy tiptoed after them, his untied sneakers sticking out below his pajama bottoms.
They whispered all the way across the bridge, even though they didn’t have to be quiet there. By the time they got to Island Avenue on the other side, they weren’t saying anything at all. Josh had the green zombie mask with the gray eyes; Jake had the flashlight, and Wally and Peter were going along as lookouts.
It was a good thing the Malloys didn’t have any dogs, Wally thought, because a dog would have heard them coming as soon as they crossed the bridge. As it was the boys kept to the shadows, and all strained to see if there was a light on in righthand bedroom above the front porch—Beth’s room. There was. Wally and Jake poked each other and grinned. They crept up the side of the Malloys’ driveway and opened the door of the garage.
Squeeeak! They froze in their tracks. All faces turned toward the house. But no one appeared at the windows, no one came to the door, and at last, convinced they were undetected, they picked up the long ladder, Wally at one end, Jake at the other, and carried it silently over to the bedroom in the corner.
Again they watched. Again they waited. Still no one came.
“Ready?” Jake whispered.
Josh nodded and slipped on the zombie mask. Wally sucked in his breath.
Flashlight in hand, Josh started up the rungs.
He was going as quietly as he could, Wally could tell, but even then the ladder seemed to make a kind of pung, pung sound with each step.
“Shhhh,” warned Jake below. Josh stopped and waited. Nobody came. He went on.
Wally and his brothers watched. Josh stopped and adjusted the mask. He went up two more rungs until he was right outside Beth’s window. At that very minute the light inside went out. And a second later, Josh’s flashlight came on. He tapped, then bobbed up and down, this way and that.
There was a scream from inside—a cross between a train whistle and a fire alarm.
Whipping off his mask, Josh came down the ladder two rungs at a time.
They could hear Mr. Malloy yelling, “Beth? What’s wrong?” Footsteps. More yelling. Voices.
The boys sprinted back down the driveway, watching the house over their shoulders. Wally faced forward again to see a baseball cap coming toward them, but there was no time to prevent a collision.
Wham! Crunch!
“Going somewhere?” came Eddie’s voice.
“Yikes!” hollered Wally as a hand grabbed his shirt. He had never known that a tall, skinny girl could be so strong. She seemed to have Josh by the collar as well, dragging them both back toward the house. Wally wrestled free, but collided again, this time with Jake, and then he tripped over Peter. Inthe dark it was hard to see which arm belonged to whom.
“What are you guys up to anyway?” asked Eddie, but the boys got away and ran pell-mell to the bridge.
“You got the flashlight?” Jake asked Wally breathlessly.
“Heck, no. You were carrying it.”
“I thought you grabbed it,” Josh said. “Someone did!”
But that someone was already inside the house.
C aroline was standing in the bathroom, practicing expressions in the mirror. She had actually been studying her eyebrows to see what they did when she went from sad to
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