Read Online Willow Run by Patricia Reilly Giff - Free Book Online
Authors: Patricia Reilly Giff
Tags: Ages 8 & Up
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cream.”
“What's he doing watching a movie anyway?” Harlanwhispered. “He should be in the army, overseas somewhere, like my uncle Leo was.”
I couldn't say
like my brother
. I wished Eddie weren't in the army, wished we were all home.
Fishing with Grandpa, the backs of my legs against the rough rocks of the jetty, the water swishing up, cooling my feet, my ankles
.
I wished the war were over. No, I wished it had never started.
I didn't want to be the only one at home. How had I ever thought that would be fun?
The picture began, and I tried to pay attention.
It's an ordinary day,
I told myself.
I'm watching this boy from Iowa on the screen and he's on a train going into the army. And then I'm going to see the news … and what a surprise. Eddie will be marching along on the screen—and everyone thought he was missing! See? Nothing to it.
I shouldn't have even written that two-minute letter to him. By the time it reached him, he would have forgotten he had even been missing.
It was hard to pay attention, though. It seemed to take forever until the boy from Iowa was wearing an army uniform and it was over.
At last I heard the music that meant the news was coming next. The picture grew large on the screen.
But it wasn't the same news I had seen with Ronnelle. There were soldiers, but they weren't marching; they sat in a muddy field, one of them drinking from a canteen, another with his head back against a stone wall, sleeping.
Not one of them had daisies on his helmet. Not one of them was Eddie.
The camera switched and a line of girls marched along a platform in white bathing suits. They made me think about Virginia Tooey. What would she think when she didn't get letters from Eddie anymore?
The cartoon began. I closed my eyes, listening to Elmer Fudd sputtering over something Bugs Bunny had done. By the time I opened them again, Elmer had a rifle. He was chasing Bugs up and down a pile of rounded hills and into the woods.
And a sign wrote itself across the screen in huge white letters: THAT'S ALL, FOLKS .
Maybe there were woods in France. You could get lost in the woods and wander around for a while before you found your way out. Of course you could.
And then I realized I couldn't remember what Eddie looked like.
How could that be?
And then I quieted myself. Lily had the key to our house in Rockaway. Everything was still there: the couch in the living room, the lamp Mom had gotten for her birthday two years ago, the picture of Eddie in his uniform smiling at us.
As soon as I could make myself go back into the kitchen of our rabbit hutch, I'd write to Lily and ask her to send his picture.
“I have to go home,” I told them.
“Don't you want to see the second feature? It's a western,” Harlan said.
I shook my head and stood up. Patches stood with me.
Harlan waved his hand. “I'm going to stay until the end, otherwise we're wasting all this money.”
Patches and I walked out of the movie, blinking in the light. I began to hurry when I heard someone in back of us, whistling “Saturday Night (Is the Loneliest Night of the Week).”
Eddie used to sing that on his way out the door to go to the movies with Virginia Tooey. But I knew he didn't think it was lonely. He would pat the top of my head as he went by and do a little dance down the steps.
“What are you thinking about?” Patches asked.
I shook my head. If I told her, I knew I'd begin to cry.
Chapter Twelve
I said, “See you later,” to Patches and went into the kitchen. No one was there. A cup was on its side at the table, a lake of milky tea spread out beside it and dripping onto the floor. I dipped my finger into it: not even warm. It had been there a long time.
“Nothing like a hot cup of tea to soothe the spirit,”
Grandpa always said; and Ronelle:
“Have to have food sooner or later.”
I tiptoed to Mom and Dad's bedroom door. Their room was almost as small as mine, the double bed taking up most of the space. A tall floor lamp
“What's he doing watching a movie anyway?” Harlanwhispered. “He should be in the army, overseas somewhere, like my uncle Leo was.”
I couldn't say
like my brother
. I wished Eddie weren't in the army, wished we were all home.
Fishing with Grandpa, the backs of my legs against the rough rocks of the jetty, the water swishing up, cooling my feet, my ankles
.
I wished the war were over. No, I wished it had never started.
I didn't want to be the only one at home. How had I ever thought that would be fun?
The picture began, and I tried to pay attention.
It's an ordinary day,
I told myself.
I'm watching this boy from Iowa on the screen and he's on a train going into the army. And then I'm going to see the news … and what a surprise. Eddie will be marching along on the screen—and everyone thought he was missing! See? Nothing to it.
I shouldn't have even written that two-minute letter to him. By the time it reached him, he would have forgotten he had even been missing.
It was hard to pay attention, though. It seemed to take forever until the boy from Iowa was wearing an army uniform and it was over.
At last I heard the music that meant the news was coming next. The picture grew large on the screen.
But it wasn't the same news I had seen with Ronnelle. There were soldiers, but they weren't marching; they sat in a muddy field, one of them drinking from a canteen, another with his head back against a stone wall, sleeping.
Not one of them had daisies on his helmet. Not one of them was Eddie.
The camera switched and a line of girls marched along a platform in white bathing suits. They made me think about Virginia Tooey. What would she think when she didn't get letters from Eddie anymore?
The cartoon began. I closed my eyes, listening to Elmer Fudd sputtering over something Bugs Bunny had done. By the time I opened them again, Elmer had a rifle. He was chasing Bugs up and down a pile of rounded hills and into the woods.
And a sign wrote itself across the screen in huge white letters: THAT'S ALL, FOLKS .
Maybe there were woods in France. You could get lost in the woods and wander around for a while before you found your way out. Of course you could.
And then I realized I couldn't remember what Eddie looked like.
How could that be?
And then I quieted myself. Lily had the key to our house in Rockaway. Everything was still there: the couch in the living room, the lamp Mom had gotten for her birthday two years ago, the picture of Eddie in his uniform smiling at us.
As soon as I could make myself go back into the kitchen of our rabbit hutch, I'd write to Lily and ask her to send his picture.
“I have to go home,” I told them.
“Don't you want to see the second feature? It's a western,” Harlan said.
I shook my head and stood up. Patches stood with me.
Harlan waved his hand. “I'm going to stay until the end, otherwise we're wasting all this money.”
Patches and I walked out of the movie, blinking in the light. I began to hurry when I heard someone in back of us, whistling “Saturday Night (Is the Loneliest Night of the Week).”
Eddie used to sing that on his way out the door to go to the movies with Virginia Tooey. But I knew he didn't think it was lonely. He would pat the top of my head as he went by and do a little dance down the steps.
“What are you thinking about?” Patches asked.
I shook my head. If I told her, I knew I'd begin to cry.
Chapter Twelve
I said, “See you later,” to Patches and went into the kitchen. No one was there. A cup was on its side at the table, a lake of milky tea spread out beside it and dripping onto the floor. I dipped my finger into it: not even warm. It had been there a long time.
“Nothing like a hot cup of tea to soothe the spirit,”
Grandpa always said; and Ronelle:
“Have to have food sooner or later.”
I tiptoed to Mom and Dad's bedroom door. Their room was almost as small as mine, the double bed taking up most of the space. A tall floor lamp
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