weekends, which usually rang with a medley of shouts and laughter and pounding feet, dragged by in a strange, uneasy silence broken only, by the dull hum of traffic.
But although fear made a great silence out-of-doors, inside the homes and stores and apartments it had a different sound-it talked and it talked and it talked. For the boys and girls, talking was about all there was left to do, since nobody was being allowed to play outside. Lying across a bed, or sitting on one of the Casa Rosada’s little iron balconies, April and Melanie talked it over many times. Most of their special information, besides what they read in the papers, came from Mrs. Ross by way of Melanie. Caroline didn’t seem to know how to talk about important or shocking things, and April wouldn’t have asked her.
“I wonder why anyone would do an awful thing like that?” April asked one day while she and Melanie were sitting on the floor in Melanie’s bedroom, looking through old magazines for new people for the paper-families game. “On TV and in the movies when somebody gets killed it’s usually because of money, or else revenge. But little kids don’t have that much money and there’s all sort of ways to get revenge on kids without doing a thing like that.”
Melanie looked at April curiously. She’d noticed before that April, in spite of her sophisticated ways, really didn’t know much at all about certain kinds of
things. The kind of things parents tell their children when they’re alone together and other kids tell you if they know you really well. All April’s information seemed to be the kind of things grownups let you overhear, and of course, nearly everything she could find in the children’s part of libraries.
“They do it because they’re sick,” Melanie answered. “That’s what my mom says. It’s a sickness of the mind. They can’t help themselves so there’s no use hating them, but they just have to be caught and shut up or they’ll probably do it again.”
“But why can’t they catch him, if he’s crazy? It seems to me a crazy person wouldn’t be hard to catch.”
“It’s not like that,” Melanie said. “My mom says some people who are crazy are only crazy at times, or in certain ways. Most of the time they seem just like anybody. My mom says that’s why kids have to be careful about all strangers, no matter if they seem as nice as anything.”
“Yeah,” April said. “I guess that’s right. You can usually tell about people if you watch them hard, but I guess you can’t always. Hey, look. Here’s a mother who’s just right for the haunted house family. Isn’t she weird?”
It wasn’t only the boys and girls of Orchard Avenue who talked and talked. The grownups did, too. Everybody had theories and opinions, and everybody
had heard rumors they were eager to repeat. There was one rumor that was particularly persistent and particularly troublesome to the members of . It had to do with the Professor.
Someone had seen two policemen going into the Professor’s store on the morning after the little girl had disappeared. It looked as if he must be a suspect, at least. No one knew that the Professor was guilty; but at the same time, no one knew anything about him that would make them believe he was innocent. There were other people in the neighborhood who were noted for their bad tempers or downright meanness, but their actions were predictable. For instance, you knew that Mrs. Harkness would call the police if you stepped on her lawn, and that at Schmitt’s Variety Store you’d get cheated out of small change if you weren’t careful. But how could anyone know what a person like the Professor would do. Of course, he hadn’t been arrested yet, but that might only mean that the police hadn’t found the proof.
Only the Egypt gang maintained that the Professor was innocent. April said she was sure of it because of a feeling she had. As just about the only kid in the neighborhood who’d actually
But although fear made a great silence out-of-doors, inside the homes and stores and apartments it had a different sound-it talked and it talked and it talked. For the boys and girls, talking was about all there was left to do, since nobody was being allowed to play outside. Lying across a bed, or sitting on one of the Casa Rosada’s little iron balconies, April and Melanie talked it over many times. Most of their special information, besides what they read in the papers, came from Mrs. Ross by way of Melanie. Caroline didn’t seem to know how to talk about important or shocking things, and April wouldn’t have asked her.
“I wonder why anyone would do an awful thing like that?” April asked one day while she and Melanie were sitting on the floor in Melanie’s bedroom, looking through old magazines for new people for the paper-families game. “On TV and in the movies when somebody gets killed it’s usually because of money, or else revenge. But little kids don’t have that much money and there’s all sort of ways to get revenge on kids without doing a thing like that.”
Melanie looked at April curiously. She’d noticed before that April, in spite of her sophisticated ways, really didn’t know much at all about certain kinds of
things. The kind of things parents tell their children when they’re alone together and other kids tell you if they know you really well. All April’s information seemed to be the kind of things grownups let you overhear, and of course, nearly everything she could find in the children’s part of libraries.
“They do it because they’re sick,” Melanie answered. “That’s what my mom says. It’s a sickness of the mind. They can’t help themselves so there’s no use hating them, but they just have to be caught and shut up or they’ll probably do it again.”
“But why can’t they catch him, if he’s crazy? It seems to me a crazy person wouldn’t be hard to catch.”
“It’s not like that,” Melanie said. “My mom says some people who are crazy are only crazy at times, or in certain ways. Most of the time they seem just like anybody. My mom says that’s why kids have to be careful about all strangers, no matter if they seem as nice as anything.”
“Yeah,” April said. “I guess that’s right. You can usually tell about people if you watch them hard, but I guess you can’t always. Hey, look. Here’s a mother who’s just right for the haunted house family. Isn’t she weird?”
It wasn’t only the boys and girls of Orchard Avenue who talked and talked. The grownups did, too. Everybody had theories and opinions, and everybody
had heard rumors they were eager to repeat. There was one rumor that was particularly persistent and particularly troublesome to the members of . It had to do with the Professor.
Someone had seen two policemen going into the Professor’s store on the morning after the little girl had disappeared. It looked as if he must be a suspect, at least. No one knew that the Professor was guilty; but at the same time, no one knew anything about him that would make them believe he was innocent. There were other people in the neighborhood who were noted for their bad tempers or downright meanness, but their actions were predictable. For instance, you knew that Mrs. Harkness would call the police if you stepped on her lawn, and that at Schmitt’s Variety Store you’d get cheated out of small change if you weren’t careful. But how could anyone know what a person like the Professor would do. Of course, he hadn’t been arrested yet, but that might only mean that the police hadn’t found the proof.
Only the Egypt gang maintained that the Professor was innocent. April said she was sure of it because of a feeling she had. As just about the only kid in the neighborhood who’d actually
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