Free Willow Run by Patricia Reilly Giff Page B

him here?”
    “Of course not. Lots of people have accents,” he said. “There are people here from all over.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “This is America, after all,” he said.
    Then, before I could stop myself, I asked, “How can people really tell if someone's a spy?”
    He ran his hand over his hair and sighed. “You can't. But the thing is …” He hesitated. “I guess you've got to be careful not to jump to conclusions about people.”
    I didn't think that was much of an answer, but I didn't know how else to ask. We didn't talk for a while, and I began to think it must be terrible to be a spy… without friends, wandering around all night by yourself.
    And something else. It was really sad if you had nothing else to do but spy on an eleven-year-old girl who was planting seeds.
    I didn't remember what he had said about not jumping to conclusions about people until I was in bed. I fell asleepthinking of those two boys who had painted the swastika on Grandpa's window.
    TO ARNOLD THE ICE CREAM MAN:
    PLEASE DON’T LEAVE YOUR KEY ON TOP OF THE TIRE ANYMORE.
    HIDE IT.
    YOURS TRULY,
    ANONYMOUS

Chapter Fourteen
    Mom was gone. Wearing a red snood to cover her hair, and her best polka-dot dress, she'd left for the factory to ask for a job.
    “You can stay alone during the day, can't you, Meggie?” she had said. “You're almost grown.” She ran her fingers over my hair, straightening my bangs. “And Dad will be sleeping in the bedroom if you need him.”
    What had Eddie said?
“You'll be the only one home. … No more baby.”
    “Oh, Meggie.” Mom had pulled me to her, hugging me hard, smelling like cold cream and Sweetheart Soap. “I have to do something. I just can't stay home all day and knit socks.”
    Mouth dry, I had nodded. During the summer at home, Ispent my days wandering around Rockaway, hanging out with Lily, or Grandpa, or by myself, just watching the waves crash onto the beach or throwing bread to the seagulls. I'd slip into the kitchen for a quick cream cheese sandwich with chives when the church bells bonged twelve and slip out again ten minutes later. I never minded being alone.
    But that was a different alone, a sunny alone. Even though it was hot today, the sky was gray, and thunder rumbled in the distance.
    “Carpe diem,”
I whispered to Mom, trying to sound as if I didn't mind.
    She put her hand on my cheek. “If only I could see Grandpa for two minutes,” she said.
    Outside, Harlan and Kennis were playing Giant Steps. “Take thirteen banana steps,” Harlan said.
    Kennis, wearing a pair of shorts that came up almost under his armpits, took thirteen banana steps, twirling back and forth in the street. It took him forever.
    Harlan waited until the last minute, watching him, his mouth twisted, trying not to laugh. Then he slapped his leg, snickering. “You forgot to say ‘May I?’ Start over.”
    “That's it, Harlan,” Kennis yelled, his face beet red. “You think I'm an idiot? I'm not playing with you again for the rest of my life.” He stomped off.
    Harlan squinted toward our living room window. I was sitting on the foldout couch, smelling the odor of Grandpa's cellar and running my hands over the horrible green plaid. Icould imagine what Harlan was thinking. He needed another idiot to play with.
    In ten giant steps he was at the window, jumping up to peer inside. The top of his head bobbed up and down two inches away from me. “Hey, Meggie.”
    I went into the kitchen for something to eat. I pulled out a box of butter cookies, the ones with the hole in the middle, and stuck my finger through one to nibble around the edges.
    “What's the matter with you, Meggie? Going to sit inside all day? Is that what they do where you come from?”
    I took a couple of cookies for him and opened the door. I didn't look back at it. I knew Mom had put a silver star there instead of the blue one to tell the world Eddie was missing. I swallowed. “I'm not playing Giant Steps.”
    “Baby game,”