Read Online The Secret of Rover by Rachel Wildavsky - Free Book Online Page A

here!” she cried. She thought for an instant of her room upstairs—her pillow, her comforter, her books—and the vision of it overwhelmed her. She balled both of her hands into fists, stepped closer to Trixie, and stamped her foot. “You wouldn’t—you wouldn’t make a dog sleep here!” she shouted. “This is
our house
!”
    But scarcely had the words escaped her lips than four glowering strangers stepped to Trixie’s side. Five angry faces glared down at David and Katie. Slowly, the man nearest David folded his arms across his chest. His crossed eyes floated weirdly above a nose that canted left. No one spoke.
    That was it. There was nothing they could do. Davidtook Katie’s arm and, gently, drew her into the small concrete closet.
    â€œWe’ll be fine,” he said curtly, and without looking at anyone’s face he closed the door.
    â€œIt could be worse,” he said quietly when their captors had walked away. “It’s not like it’s wet or gross or anything. It’s not even dark.” He was right about that. A dim light entered through the slats. “And we’re alone. Or sort of.”
    Katie scarcely heard him. She stood rooted to the spot, with her heart still pounding and her mind still racing. “It isn’t fair, David. It isn’t right.”
    But David was strangely calm. It had been five against two. Whether it was fair or right hadn’t mattered. He sank to the floor, picked up his sandwich, and unwrapped it. In the faint light he pulled apart the pieces of bread and sniffed tentatively at the slightly acrid contents. Some sort of foreign paste was smeared inside.
    But undoubtedly it was food. He was very hungry, and who could say when they would receive their next meal? He slapped his sandwich back together and took a bite. He didn’t like it, but he could eat it. And after he ate it he could sleep. The floor was very hard, but he was very tired.
    It was terribly noisy in the basement. Clearly the Katkajanians would be awake for a long time. But after a while David did lie down, and sometime later he was dimly aware that Katie had done the same.
    â€œWe have to get away, David,” she whispered softly.
    He did not answer.
    â€œWe have to escape from them,” she insisted.
    He wanted only to sleep, and again he made no reply.
    â€œIn the morning,” she continued, aware now that she was speaking to herself, “in the morning we’ll run away.” And then—despite the noise and the slatted light and the concrete, despite her sorrow and her fear—she fell asleep.

But in the morning they were taken away.
    At the crack of dawn—before it was fully light, before there were cars on the streets, before they had even woken up—Trixie and the crooked-nosed Katkajanian roughly and unceremoniously dragged open the door to their closet.
    The basement was still dark. The house was silent and—but for them—asleep. Trixie carried a flashlight that she shone in their faces.
    â€œGet up,” she whispered.
    The children, fogged by sleep, simply stared.
    â€œUp,” she repeated, now jerking the flashlight toward the stairs, as if to beckon them forward. “We’re going for a little ride in the car.”
    They asked no questions. And fleetingly—through her sleepy confusion and her terrible fear—Katie noticed that neither did Trixie. At some point, Trixie had abandoned the irritating upward tilt that used to end her every sentence. There was no need to sugarcoat anything now.
    The children stumbled to their feet and prepared to follow her. But Trixie, indignant, pointed back toward the floor where they had lain.
    â€œGet that!” she barked, gesturing toward the plastic from their sandwiches, which had been flattened beneath their bodies. “You don’t leave your trash for others to pick up!”
    Clutching the wads of plastic and the empty water