Craig. “What are you two whispering about?” he demanded.
“Nothing.” Annie casually carried on down the hall.
“Well, you
better
not wake me!” Craig called after her.
Alex encountered Annie again in the kitchen. “What do you think he heard?” he asked nervously.
Annie rummaged through the drawer for a can opener. “Don't worry. If he heard more than the last sentence, he would have let us know by now.”
During the evening meal, there were long stretches where the only sounds were the clinking of cutlery against plates and the deliberate smacking noises Craig made while chewing his food.
“Well.” Mr. McRae wiped his lips with his serviette. “Everyone must have got a lot of fresh air today.”
Willie pushed back his plate. “Not feeling well,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes cast down on the table.
Mr. McRae felt Willie's forehead. “Do you think you might be sick?”
Willie nodded. He got up shakily and Mr. McRae helped him up the stairs.
Alex didn't feel well either. His stomach felt like a clenched fist. It seemed that, like Willie, he was suffering from a case of nerves.
Later, when Alex and Craig went up to the bedroom, Willie was facing the wall, a bucket next to his bed. He did not stir.
Alex got into bed, his heart beating so loudly that he thought the others could hear. It was hard to lie waiting for Craig to fall asleep, waiting for Annie's signal, waiting for it all to begin.
Finally Alex heard Craig's steady breathing turn into light gasps. Alex propped up his head with one hand and kept an eye out for Annie's signal. It took so long, he wondered whether he should see if she'd fallen asleep. If he met Mr. McRae, he could pretend he was going to the bathroom unless, of course, Mr. McRae caught him tiptoeing into Annie's room. At that point, he would have a
lot
of explaining to do.
Just when he could stand it no longer, a flash illuminated a sliver of the ceiling. Quiet as a ghost, Alex slipped out of bed and closed the curtains – the prearranged signal for Annie to know he was up. It also made the room darker. Alex bunched up his bedcovers to make them appear as if he were still in bed. He picked up his carefully arranged bundle of clothes, crept over to Willie's bed, and gave him a shake.
Willie groggily raised his arm. “What? What?”
“Shh!
Come on, let's go!”
Willie dropped his arm over his face. “You go ahead,” he mumbled. “I'll be right there.”
Alex tiptoed down the stairs to the front room to get dressed. He hid his pajamas under the couch and slipped out the side door. He shivered in the night air as he laced up his shoes.
Annie came around the corner lugging three rucksacks. “Where's Willie?”
“He's coming. I had to wake him.”
“He fell asleep?!” Annie stamped her foot. “I don't believe it. You can't count on him for anything.”
They sat on the steps, Annie impatiently drumming her fingers on her pack. She jumped up and strode angrily aroundthe house to flash the light at the window again. She returned more annoyed than ever.
“I'll go get him,” she said, climbing the steps to the house.
As she reached for the handle, the door suddenly swung open.
“Craig! What are you doing up?”
Craig stepped out and closed the door behind him. “I'm coming too,” he said.
“No, you're not.” Annie raised her hand to her mouth. “I mean, we're not going anywhere … now get back up to bed. Why are you dressed?”
“Because I'm coming with you,” he said doggedly. “I want to find out about Mum as much as you do, you know.”
Annie stared in dismay. She knew there would be no way to stop him – he was just too stubborn. Either he came with them, or no one went. “Let's get Willie,” she said at last.
“Oh, I wouldn't do that.” Craig gave a short laugh. “He was hanging over his bucket a moment ago – it wasn't pretty.”
Annie sighed. “Okay, let's go. Craig, you take Willie's pack.”
They strapped on their headlamps and
“Nothing.” Annie casually carried on down the hall.
“Well, you
better
not wake me!” Craig called after her.
Alex encountered Annie again in the kitchen. “What do you think he heard?” he asked nervously.
Annie rummaged through the drawer for a can opener. “Don't worry. If he heard more than the last sentence, he would have let us know by now.”
During the evening meal, there were long stretches where the only sounds were the clinking of cutlery against plates and the deliberate smacking noises Craig made while chewing his food.
“Well.” Mr. McRae wiped his lips with his serviette. “Everyone must have got a lot of fresh air today.”
Willie pushed back his plate. “Not feeling well,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes cast down on the table.
Mr. McRae felt Willie's forehead. “Do you think you might be sick?”
Willie nodded. He got up shakily and Mr. McRae helped him up the stairs.
Alex didn't feel well either. His stomach felt like a clenched fist. It seemed that, like Willie, he was suffering from a case of nerves.
Later, when Alex and Craig went up to the bedroom, Willie was facing the wall, a bucket next to his bed. He did not stir.
Alex got into bed, his heart beating so loudly that he thought the others could hear. It was hard to lie waiting for Craig to fall asleep, waiting for Annie's signal, waiting for it all to begin.
Finally Alex heard Craig's steady breathing turn into light gasps. Alex propped up his head with one hand and kept an eye out for Annie's signal. It took so long, he wondered whether he should see if she'd fallen asleep. If he met Mr. McRae, he could pretend he was going to the bathroom unless, of course, Mr. McRae caught him tiptoeing into Annie's room. At that point, he would have a
lot
of explaining to do.
Just when he could stand it no longer, a flash illuminated a sliver of the ceiling. Quiet as a ghost, Alex slipped out of bed and closed the curtains – the prearranged signal for Annie to know he was up. It also made the room darker. Alex bunched up his bedcovers to make them appear as if he were still in bed. He picked up his carefully arranged bundle of clothes, crept over to Willie's bed, and gave him a shake.
Willie groggily raised his arm. “What? What?”
“Shh!
Come on, let's go!”
Willie dropped his arm over his face. “You go ahead,” he mumbled. “I'll be right there.”
Alex tiptoed down the stairs to the front room to get dressed. He hid his pajamas under the couch and slipped out the side door. He shivered in the night air as he laced up his shoes.
Annie came around the corner lugging three rucksacks. “Where's Willie?”
“He's coming. I had to wake him.”
“He fell asleep?!” Annie stamped her foot. “I don't believe it. You can't count on him for anything.”
They sat on the steps, Annie impatiently drumming her fingers on her pack. She jumped up and strode angrily aroundthe house to flash the light at the window again. She returned more annoyed than ever.
“I'll go get him,” she said, climbing the steps to the house.
As she reached for the handle, the door suddenly swung open.
“Craig! What are you doing up?”
Craig stepped out and closed the door behind him. “I'm coming too,” he said.
“No, you're not.” Annie raised her hand to her mouth. “I mean, we're not going anywhere … now get back up to bed. Why are you dressed?”
“Because I'm coming with you,” he said doggedly. “I want to find out about Mum as much as you do, you know.”
Annie stared in dismay. She knew there would be no way to stop him – he was just too stubborn. Either he came with them, or no one went. “Let's get Willie,” she said at last.
“Oh, I wouldn't do that.” Craig gave a short laugh. “He was hanging over his bucket a moment ago – it wasn't pretty.”
Annie sighed. “Okay, let's go. Craig, you take Willie's pack.”
They strapped on their headlamps and
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