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Authors: Mary Downing Hahn
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me. "What are you doing in the attic at this time of night? You woke me up."
"Where is he? You must have seen him. He was right there."
"Who are you talking about?"
"Andrew," I shouted. "He ran past you. Where did he go?"
Hannah rushed up the steps. "Dear Lord, are you sick again? Is the fever back?" , „
She took my hand and tried to lead me downstairs. No, I shouted. It's not my room, it's his. I don't want to stay here, let me go home."
Hannah was stronger than I was, and in a few minutes, she had me tucked under the quilt. "Must I fetch Papa?' she asked. "Or will you lie still and behave?"
"Your father can't help. Only Andrew can, just Andrew, but he's gone, and so are the marbles. He has them."
Hannah shook me. Her face was inches from mine. "Wake up," she said, "you're dreaming, talking in your sleep."
The fear in her voice brought me to my senses. I stopped
thrashing and gazed into her eyes. "Marbles," I mumbled, "I was looking for my marbles."
Slowly, she released me. Watching me closely, she said, "You frightened me out of my wits, Andrew."
"Bad dream," I mumbled, "nightmare."
Hannah stroked my forehead. "Your eyes were so strange," she murmured. "Nothing you said made sense. It was all gibberish."
"I just wanted my marbles." I turned my head, trying to hide my tears. What would Hannah think—a boy my age crying because he couldn't find a bag of marbles.
"You're as forgetful as a squirrel," she said. "If you promise to go to sleep, I'll give you mine."
Hannah tiptoed down the hall to her room. When she came back, she was holding a bag like Andrew's. Sitting beside me, she poured the marbles onto the quilt.
"Do you know how to play?" I asked.
Hannah gave me one of her vexed looks. "Goodness, Andrew, if it weren't for me you wouldn't know the first thing about marbles. Your brain is a regular sieve these days."
I tapped my forehead to remind her I'd been sick. She looked so contrite I felt guilty. "Will you teach me all over again?"
Hannah poured her marbles onto the quilt and sighed. Without raising her eyes, she said, "Girls my age are supposed to be ladies, but sometimes I get mighty tired of trying to be what I'm not."
Cradling an aggie almost as shiny as Andrew's red bull's-eye, she cocked her head, studied her targets, and shot. The aggie hit a glass marble and sent it spinning off the bed. Hannah grinned and tried again.
When all the marbles except the aggie were scattered on the floor, Hannah seized my chin and tipped my face up to hers. Looking me in the eye, she said, "If you promise not to tell a soul, I'll give you as many lessons as you want. No matter what Papa thinks, I'd rather play marbles than be a lady, and that's the truth."
"Ringer," I said sleepily. "Do you know how to play ringer?"
Hannah ruffled my hair. "You must be pulling my leg, Andrew. That's what we always play. It's your favorite game."
I yawned. "Starting tomorrow, we'll practice every day till I get even better than I used to be."
"When I'm finished with you, you'll be the all-time marble champion of Missouri." Hannah gave me a quick lass and slid off the bed.
In the doorway, she paused and looked back at me. "No more sleepwalking," she whispered.
When Hannah was gone, I slid the bag of marbles under my pillow. From their frame above the bureau, the three horses watched. Staring into their wild eyes, I made a promise. Sooner or later, I'd beat Andrew. Maybe not tomorrow night or the night after, but, before summer ended, I'd sleep in my room again and Andrew would sleep in his.
Chapter 11
The next morning, the minute we finished our chores, Hannah said it was time for my marbles lesson. Urging me to hurry, she whispered, "Don't let Theo see where we're going. He might tell Papa."
She ran out the back door, and I went chasing after her. The marbles clicked and bounced in my pocket, and my heart pounded in rhythm with my feet—I'll beat you Andrew, beat you, beat you, they seemed to say.
I followed
"Where is he? You must have seen him. He was right there."
"Who are you talking about?"
"Andrew," I shouted. "He ran past you. Where did he go?"
Hannah rushed up the steps. "Dear Lord, are you sick again? Is the fever back?" , „
She took my hand and tried to lead me downstairs. No, I shouted. It's not my room, it's his. I don't want to stay here, let me go home."
Hannah was stronger than I was, and in a few minutes, she had me tucked under the quilt. "Must I fetch Papa?' she asked. "Or will you lie still and behave?"
"Your father can't help. Only Andrew can, just Andrew, but he's gone, and so are the marbles. He has them."
Hannah shook me. Her face was inches from mine. "Wake up," she said, "you're dreaming, talking in your sleep."
The fear in her voice brought me to my senses. I stopped
thrashing and gazed into her eyes. "Marbles," I mumbled, "I was looking for my marbles."
Slowly, she released me. Watching me closely, she said, "You frightened me out of my wits, Andrew."
"Bad dream," I mumbled, "nightmare."
Hannah stroked my forehead. "Your eyes were so strange," she murmured. "Nothing you said made sense. It was all gibberish."
"I just wanted my marbles." I turned my head, trying to hide my tears. What would Hannah think—a boy my age crying because he couldn't find a bag of marbles.
"You're as forgetful as a squirrel," she said. "If you promise to go to sleep, I'll give you mine."
Hannah tiptoed down the hall to her room. When she came back, she was holding a bag like Andrew's. Sitting beside me, she poured the marbles onto the quilt.
"Do you know how to play?" I asked.
Hannah gave me one of her vexed looks. "Goodness, Andrew, if it weren't for me you wouldn't know the first thing about marbles. Your brain is a regular sieve these days."
I tapped my forehead to remind her I'd been sick. She looked so contrite I felt guilty. "Will you teach me all over again?"
Hannah poured her marbles onto the quilt and sighed. Without raising her eyes, she said, "Girls my age are supposed to be ladies, but sometimes I get mighty tired of trying to be what I'm not."
Cradling an aggie almost as shiny as Andrew's red bull's-eye, she cocked her head, studied her targets, and shot. The aggie hit a glass marble and sent it spinning off the bed. Hannah grinned and tried again.
When all the marbles except the aggie were scattered on the floor, Hannah seized my chin and tipped my face up to hers. Looking me in the eye, she said, "If you promise not to tell a soul, I'll give you as many lessons as you want. No matter what Papa thinks, I'd rather play marbles than be a lady, and that's the truth."
"Ringer," I said sleepily. "Do you know how to play ringer?"
Hannah ruffled my hair. "You must be pulling my leg, Andrew. That's what we always play. It's your favorite game."
I yawned. "Starting tomorrow, we'll practice every day till I get even better than I used to be."
"When I'm finished with you, you'll be the all-time marble champion of Missouri." Hannah gave me a quick lass and slid off the bed.
In the doorway, she paused and looked back at me. "No more sleepwalking," she whispered.
When Hannah was gone, I slid the bag of marbles under my pillow. From their frame above the bureau, the three horses watched. Staring into their wild eyes, I made a promise. Sooner or later, I'd beat Andrew. Maybe not tomorrow night or the night after, but, before summer ended, I'd sleep in my room again and Andrew would sleep in his.
Chapter 11
The next morning, the minute we finished our chores, Hannah said it was time for my marbles lesson. Urging me to hurry, she whispered, "Don't let Theo see where we're going. He might tell Papa."
She ran out the back door, and I went chasing after her. The marbles clicked and bounced in my pocket, and my heart pounded in rhythm with my feet—I'll beat you Andrew, beat you, beat you, they seemed to say.
I followed
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