Free Secret Signs by Shelley Hrdlitschka

long tables where the men sat and ate.
    When Henry and Clickety Clack reached the soup woman, Henry held out his bowl.
    Clickety Clack put his hand on Henry’s slender shoulder. “This is my young grandson, ma’am, and we’re much obliged for the meal. We’ve been on the road for weeks.”
    Henry felt a flush of guilt at the lie, but under the circumstances he was sure his mother would agree that stretching the truth a little was acceptable.
    The portly woman nodded in understanding, then smiled sympathetically at Henry as she filled his bowl right to the brim. “You eat all that soup, young man. It’s full of hearty vegetables.”
    Henry sniffed. It seemed those “hearty vegetables” were for the most part cabbage. He thought of how he used to complain about his mother’s cabbage soup. Maybe he was hungrier or perhaps just wiser, but this time the soup smelled wonderful and Henry’s mouth watered. He thanked her and moved to the bread lady.
    â€œMy my, son, you look half starved. I think you need two pieces.” The bird-like bread lady added a second piece to Henry’s bowl.
    Henry bobbed his head and thanked her.
    Clickety Clack continued talking. “Yes, he’s been through a lot. He lost both his parents in a tragic accident.” At this, Clickety Clack took off his old hat in a gesture of respect for the imaginary tragedy. “He’s never been the same since.”
    The wily hobo lowered his voice so only the two ladies and Henry could hear. “He’s mighty afraid to sleep outside, youknow, because of his parents’ misfortune…the grizzly bear…”
    â€œOh my! Oh my!” The bird lady’s hands fluttered like wings in front of her face.
    Henry did his best to look like an orphan. Shocked, the spectacled lady sucked on her teeth dramatically. “Land sakes! He shouldn’t have to suffer any more than he already has.” She crooked her finger at Clickety Clack, who moved closer. “Come by later and you and the boy can sleep in the back.” She winked, then looked at Henry and shook her head sadly.
    The hobo and the boy moved on.
    â€œWell, now, I’d say that went rather well.” Clickety Clack grinned as they sat at one of the tables.
    â€œBut what you told them wasn’t true. My parents are both alive.” Henry didn’t like the idea of lying to old ladies.
    â€œLook, boy, if I have a chance to sleep in a bed, I think it’s worth a little white lie. No one was hurt and we don’t have to huddle in a doorway tonight. There are worse things than grizzly bears in thebig city. Now, eat your soup.” He reached over and took half of Henry’s second piece of bread. Henry raised an eyebrow and Clickety Clack scowled. “What are you gawking at? I’m half starved too, or didn’t you notice?”
    They loitered outside the kitchen until the last homeless man left, then slipped inside for a good night’s rest.
    In the mission’s narrow back room, while Clickety Clack snored peacefully on one of the two hard beds, Henry rummaged in his book bag until he found his journal and the chewed stub of a pencil. Ever since he’d said goodbye to the other travelers, he’d been thinking of his mother. Before he could sleep, he had to write her. He wanted to let her know he was safe and that he was sorry for… well, for
everything
. He thought of the money he’d stolen. That had been wrong, he knew that now.
    When he’d finished writing to his mother, he tore a fresh page out of his journal and wrote a special letter to Anne, usingsimple words and correct hobo signs to explain his adventures. Tomorrow he would buy an envelope and a three-cent stamp. His mind replayed everything he’d gone through, and he remembered how lonely he’d felt on the train, listening to the hobos’ stories.
    This was not how he’d imagined today would go, but he