Free Death by Exposure by Eric Walters Page A

nine.”
    â€œIt’s not like I haven’t baby-sat her before.”
    â€œI’m not a baby!” Julia exclaimed.
    â€œSometimes you act like it,” Ben snapped.
    â€œLook who’s talking about being a-”
    â€œBoth of you stop it!” their mother said. “I know you’ve taken care of your sister before, but I’ve never left you two alone for the whole day.”
    â€œWe’ll be fine.”
    â€œDo you two really think you can get along together for the entire day?”
    â€œNo problem. We get along fine,” Ben said.
    â€œSince when?” their mother asked.
    â€œSince always.”
    â€œYeah,” Julia agreed. “We only fight when you’re around.”
    â€œIf that’s the case, maybe I should go away more often.”
    â€œI don’t know about that,” Ben said, “but you should go out today. We hardly have anything to eat.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” their mother said. “There’s plenty of food.”
    â€œYeah, but there’s nothing
good
to eat.”
    Their mother opened the refrigerator. “Nothing good? We have plenty of cheese and meat, and the fruit bowl is full and-”
    Ben frowned. “I don’t mean good for you. I mean
good.
There are no more cookies, and the only cereal we have left doesn’t even have sugar in it, and Julia ate the last two fruit roll-ups-”
    â€œThat’s because you ate the first four in the box!” Julia protested. “So those two belonged to me!”
    â€œWell, I didn’t eat half the cookies and—” Ben stopped in mid-sentence when he realized that was exactly what their mother was worried about. “And I guess I should have eaten only three of the fruit roll-ups. How about if Julia gets four out of the box you buy today?”
    â€œThat would be fair,” Julia agreed.
    Ben turned to his mother. “You better leave now if you want to get there and back before dark. You know Dad doesn’t like you driving these roads by yourself at night.”
    Their mother nodded. “At least I don’t have to worry about the road conditions. These roads can be pretty dangerous in bad weather. But not today. They’re clear and dry. I don’t think there’s ever been a winter with so little snow before.”
    â€œNineteen twenty-seven,” Julia said.
    â€œWhat about 1927?” Ben asked.
    â€œMy teacher told our class that was the only year that had less snow than this year.”
    â€œAnd probably the only year that had less snow days when they cancelled the buses and we didn’t have to go to school,” Ben added.
    Their mother smiled. “That’s right. You haven’t had one day this year when school had to be cancelled because of the weather.”
    â€œI know,” Ben said. “It isn’t fair. Last year we had seven snow days. Seven days to get together with my friends.”
    â€œCome on, Ben, it isn’t like you don’t see your friends when you go to school,” their mother said.
    â€œI see them, but it’s a lot different to see them sitting at the next deskthan to play pickup hockey on the pond, or build a snow fort, or have a snowball fight, or go tobogganing.”
    â€œI guess you’re right there,” their mother said. “I think this was also probably the worst winter we could have gotten you a toboggan for your birthday.”
    â€œYou can say that again.”
    All Ben had had the chance to do since his birthday on January 14 was look at the biggest and best present he’d ever received—a new, shiny, hardwood toboggan. No snow had fallen for almost three weeks, and the little bit they’d seen before that had been melted by the last Chinook that had blown in from the Rockies.
    â€œDon’t worry, Ben, you’ll be able to use it next year,” Julia assured him.
    â€œI’m not waiting for next year. I’m going