Read Online Who Won the War? by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor - Free Book Online Page B

ahead of Caroline. He slipped inside and locked the door. When he was through, he drank half a glass of water, being careful not to touch any glass that the Malloys might have used. Then he opened the door, and there was Caroline with her arms folded, listening to everything.
    Back in his room again, Wally pulled the covers over his head and tried to count the number of days, hours, minutes, seconds that the Malloys might be in his house.
    He must have dropped off to sleep, because the next thing he knew, Jake was shaking his arm.
    “Wally,” Jake kept whispering. “Wally …”
    “Huh?” Wally murmured, rolling over.
    “Listen. We need you to do something.”
    “Huh?” Wally said again. He had that sinking feeling. Josh was awake too, and they were both looking at him.
    “We need you to sneak into our bedroom and scoop up all our underwear from the dresser.”
    “No!” said Wally. “No! No! No!”
    “Your feet are smaller,” Josh explained. “You can creep around that room easier than we can with our big feet. We'd probably step on someone. It's four in the morning. They're all asleep.”
    “No! Do it yourself! It's your underwear!” said Wally.
    “Walll-ly,” said Josh. “Do you remember those underpants Grandma sent you for your birthday last year? The ones with your name on the seat?”
    “Yes …,” Wally said, beginning to see where this conversation was going.
    “And you know how Mom gets our underwear mixed up sometimes when she does the laundry? Well, if the Malloys see our underwear, they won't know exactly who it belongs to, Jake or me. But if they see any with Wally on them, they'll know for sure.”
    Wally closed his eyes, but it didn't keep out the pictures. A picture of Eddie riding around town on one of the Hatfords' bikes, with Wally's underwear flying from the handlebars. Beth using a pair of Wally's underpants as a book cover. Caroline coming to breakfast with a hat made out of underwear, with Wally across her forehead. He couldn't stand it.
    “Where is your underwear?” he asked.
    “The bottom drawer,” said Jake. “Just softly open our door, tiptoe around the air mattress, pull out the bottom drawer of our dresser, and scoop up all the stuff. Then bring it back here. That's all you have to do.”
    All he had to do. It was like asking him to climb Mount Everest and be back by sundown.
    Wally got out of bed. He walked to the door.
    “Goodbye,” he said to his brothers, because if Mrs. Malloy and her daughters found him creeping around their bedroom at four in the morning, he might not live to see the next day.
    He padded down the hall. Gently, gently, he opened the door of the twins' room. He waited, holding his breath, while he took in the room, trying to see where everyone was sleeping. Carefully, carefully, Wally made his way around the air mattress with Caroline and Eddie on it, around the bed where Beth was lying, around the other bed, where Mrs. Malloy lay sleeping, one arm dangling over the edge, and over to the dresser along the far wall.
    Slowly, slowly, Wally stooped down and, feeling around, put his hands on the two knobs of the bottom drawer, then slowly, slowly—so it wouldn't make a sound—pulled it open.
    Again he held his breath and waited, sure that any minute Mrs. Malloy would rise and say, “Just what do you think you're doing in our room, young man?” Or that his dad would see the door open and thunder, “Wally, what the heck are you doing in there?”
    But no one spoke. No one stirred. Taking a deep breath, Wally put his hands in the drawer, one at each end, and scooped up all the underwear. Now he'd be discovered for sure. Once again, however, no one stirred. With his right foot he softly edged the drawer closed. Wally turned slowly around. Step by
    step … Pause … Breathe … Step by step … Pause … Breathe …
    He reached the door. Still no sound. This was too easy. Things never turned out this well for Wally Hatford. Something always had to go