Don't You Know There's a War On? by Avi

said.
    â€œWhere’s that?”
    â€œEngland.”
    â€œIt’s called Merry Old England,” I corrected. “When do you think he’ll be home?”
    â€œEaster, I’m guessing.”
    â€œWhy would they cut that out?”
    â€œIf the Germans knew when he hoped to be home, maybe they could figure out when he was leaving and where he’d be. Those U-boats could be right there, waitingfor him.”
    â€œThen how come he isn’t waiting for a convoy? Isn’t it safer?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDoes that mean his ship will be all alone?” I asked, horrified.
    â€œHowie, honey,” she said, softly, “I don’t know any more than you do.”
    â€œBut if his ship’s alone . . . ,” I started to say.
    â€œHowie, it’s really better not to talk about—”
    All of a sudden air raid sirens started howling.
    In case you didn’t know, I’ll explain. Sirens meant the whole city was supposed to douse lights. Called a blackout. It was to make sure enemy airplanes or ships couldn’t home in on us.
    Now, for all I knew, maybe enemy planes were coming. Hey, they did at Pearl Harbor. It would take plane spotters—up on roofs—to know for sure. To help, there were all these searchlights flicking back and forth against the sky. So we took the siren seriously. In fact, Mom had been holding a pot in her hand. When the sirens came, she dropped the pot on the stove.
    After that she didn’t seem worried. Not that she would have let on. “Supper will have to wait,” she said, turning offthe kitchen light. “Howie, go get the front lights.”
    I hurried down the hall.
    â€œAnd Howie,” she called after me. “When you get everything, go after Gloria. She doesn’t like being alone in the blackouts.”
    I got our apartment dark. Then I made my way out onto the street. Most lights were already off. They would stay that way for an hour, till the all-clear siren.
    A few people went scurrying by, trying to get inside. Unless you were in the Civil Defense, you weren’t supposed to be on the streets.
    As I stood there in front of our building, the last lights on the block went off. No people or cars either. Except for the sirens, the city was quiet, spookylike. Another world. I could even see stars. I liked that part. Until blackouts I’d never really seen stars.
    Pretty soon the air raid wardens came down the middle of the street. They wore white armbands and helmets with the Civil Defense insignia. Two of them had walkie-talkies. Their job was to make sure everything was dark. They could arrest you if you made any trouble.
    Before they could tell me to get back inside, I headed for the grocery store. It was only three blocks away.
    The store, which was pretty small, was mostly dark, except for this tiny burning candle. On the walls were wooden shelves. Not a lot of stuff on them because of all the food shortages. There was an icebox too, for eggs and milk. The potato box was empty. Just a sign that said,
NO POTATOES — SHORTAGES
    On one wall was a big poster, which I liked looking at. It was a picture of this blond lady, only she didn’t have too much on—just a red, white, and blue sort of flag scarf. She was riding this huge falling bomb. In big letters ’cross the top, it said,
BUY WAR BONDS FOR BOMBS !
    Gloria was in the store, clutching a milk bottle. She was sitting next to Mrs. Hakim, who ran the store with her husband. This Mrs. Hakim was a tiny, big-eyed woman. She always reminded me of a sardine.
    â€œHowie,” Mrs. Hakim said soon as she saw me. “Your sister was afraid to go home. I told her she could stay. Now go along, honey. Say hello to your mother for me.”
    We started home.
    â€œHowie, are we going to be bombed?” Gloria asked as we walked along.
    â€œShh!” I said, as if some Nazi might hear us.
    â€œAre we?” she whispered
    â€œNah,” I