trying.”
He had a point. What could I lose?
Nothing. I had nothing.
Even so, the thought made me unsure. “When do you think the roundups will start?” I looked down. My hands turned clammy.
“Soon,” he asserted. “Maybe even tomorrow.” Fostino leaned closer to me and put his forehead on mine. “Look,” he added. “Please do this.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
I shut the door to the shack and whirled around. My eyes swept the room before my body sank into the tattered loveseat. I stared at the floor for a long time and didn’t move.
Could I do this? Leave this place, the only home I’d ever known?
Around 9:00 PM, I heard the screams. Right after, I heard the unmistakable sound of a dog bark. My blood froze. My eyes watered. My lungs heaved with dread.
What was that?
The screams came from outside the house, on the street. I heard one and then another. Two voices pierced the night like long knives.
“Don’t! Please!” the first one wailed in a sharp staccato. “I promise we didn’t do anything! I promise!”
“We’re loyal, I swear!” yelled the other, a man’s lower voice.
With catlike movement, I crept to the small window my mother had long ago covered with a curtain fashioned from an off-white sheet. I reached over next to the window and flipped off the light switch so the room plunged into blackness. I waited 30 seconds before reaching up my hand to pull back the lower corner of the sheet.
Across the street, I saw it.
Two soldiers stood outside the Mon Swayne home; a shack similar to mine. One stood next to a large wolf dog on a leash with a pointy collar. The dog didn’t bark. It growled behind a clenched jaw and waited for orders. The other soldier reached up and fired his gun in the air.
“Enough!” he shouted. “No more talking! We have all the proof we need!” He picked up something from the grass and shook it in Mrs. Mon Swayne’s face. She answered him with a horrified, loud cry.
“Our dog found this,” he said. “This!” He threw it on the ground again and stomped his boot on it. The other soldier threw a flashlight on it, but I couldn’t make it out at first.
“It’s not ours,” Mr. Mon Swayne pleaded. “I’ve never seen that money before in my life!”
“Nonsense,” said the soldier with the flashlight. “We found a box full of Canadian dollars underneath your bed! Along with a Canadian passport!”
I gasped.
Everyone in Harrison Corners knew the government forbade Canadian passports. And Canadian money.
The soldier took what resembled a passport out of his back pocket and threw it on the ground, too. Then he pulled out a pair of handcuffs and ordered Mrs. Mon Swayne to turn around. When she didn’t right away, he fired a shot into the air again and then hit her on the arm with the butt of his gun.
“You are under arrest!” the first soldier screamed into the face of Mr. Mon Swayne. “You are guilty of high treason! You are an Undesirable!” The second soldier made the move to handcuff Mr. Mon Swayne. Husband and wife dissolved into hysterics now. My tears came, too.
As the wolf dog barked, the soldiers forced the Mon Swaynes into the open flatbed truck on the street next to their home. The door to the house hung open. They stood alone on the flatbed. Then the soldiers signed the dog to climb in the back of the truck and loaded themselves in the front. The high beams of the truck flooded the street like syrup over a pancake.
They drove down the road. Something inside me told me I would never see the Mon Swaynes again. Seconds later, the flatbed truck stopped at another house three doors down.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Five minutes after 8:00 AM the next day, I rounded the corner to the alley behind the convenience store and headed toward the 16-unit apartment building. Earlier, I’d packed a small black messenger bag with the few valuables I decided to take with me. The weight of the bag hung off my shoulder like a cinder block. I marveled at being able to
He had a point. What could I lose?
Nothing. I had nothing.
Even so, the thought made me unsure. “When do you think the roundups will start?” I looked down. My hands turned clammy.
“Soon,” he asserted. “Maybe even tomorrow.” Fostino leaned closer to me and put his forehead on mine. “Look,” he added. “Please do this.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
I shut the door to the shack and whirled around. My eyes swept the room before my body sank into the tattered loveseat. I stared at the floor for a long time and didn’t move.
Could I do this? Leave this place, the only home I’d ever known?
Around 9:00 PM, I heard the screams. Right after, I heard the unmistakable sound of a dog bark. My blood froze. My eyes watered. My lungs heaved with dread.
What was that?
The screams came from outside the house, on the street. I heard one and then another. Two voices pierced the night like long knives.
“Don’t! Please!” the first one wailed in a sharp staccato. “I promise we didn’t do anything! I promise!”
“We’re loyal, I swear!” yelled the other, a man’s lower voice.
With catlike movement, I crept to the small window my mother had long ago covered with a curtain fashioned from an off-white sheet. I reached over next to the window and flipped off the light switch so the room plunged into blackness. I waited 30 seconds before reaching up my hand to pull back the lower corner of the sheet.
Across the street, I saw it.
Two soldiers stood outside the Mon Swayne home; a shack similar to mine. One stood next to a large wolf dog on a leash with a pointy collar. The dog didn’t bark. It growled behind a clenched jaw and waited for orders. The other soldier reached up and fired his gun in the air.
“Enough!” he shouted. “No more talking! We have all the proof we need!” He picked up something from the grass and shook it in Mrs. Mon Swayne’s face. She answered him with a horrified, loud cry.
“Our dog found this,” he said. “This!” He threw it on the ground again and stomped his boot on it. The other soldier threw a flashlight on it, but I couldn’t make it out at first.
“It’s not ours,” Mr. Mon Swayne pleaded. “I’ve never seen that money before in my life!”
“Nonsense,” said the soldier with the flashlight. “We found a box full of Canadian dollars underneath your bed! Along with a Canadian passport!”
I gasped.
Everyone in Harrison Corners knew the government forbade Canadian passports. And Canadian money.
The soldier took what resembled a passport out of his back pocket and threw it on the ground, too. Then he pulled out a pair of handcuffs and ordered Mrs. Mon Swayne to turn around. When she didn’t right away, he fired a shot into the air again and then hit her on the arm with the butt of his gun.
“You are under arrest!” the first soldier screamed into the face of Mr. Mon Swayne. “You are guilty of high treason! You are an Undesirable!” The second soldier made the move to handcuff Mr. Mon Swayne. Husband and wife dissolved into hysterics now. My tears came, too.
As the wolf dog barked, the soldiers forced the Mon Swaynes into the open flatbed truck on the street next to their home. The door to the house hung open. They stood alone on the flatbed. Then the soldiers signed the dog to climb in the back of the truck and loaded themselves in the front. The high beams of the truck flooded the street like syrup over a pancake.
They drove down the road. Something inside me told me I would never see the Mon Swaynes again. Seconds later, the flatbed truck stopped at another house three doors down.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Five minutes after 8:00 AM the next day, I rounded the corner to the alley behind the convenience store and headed toward the 16-unit apartment building. Earlier, I’d packed a small black messenger bag with the few valuables I decided to take with me. The weight of the bag hung off my shoulder like a cinder block. I marveled at being able to
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