never went far into it at night, but sometimes in winter, Rew and I went out all bundled up and just sat at the edge there, watching the clean, star-pricked sky rise up over all those trees. I thought about Andrew Snow wandering through it in the dark. I didn’t think he would have noticed the sky.
He looked a little surprised to see me standing there so long, just looking. Maybe he thought I wanted him to say something. So he did.
“You’re eleven, aren’t you?” he said to me.
I nodded.
“I remember you as a tiny thing,” he said. “Last time I saw you, you were just three. But you talked then. Did your Gran ever tell you?”
I shook my head. “She doesn’t tell about those times,” I said. “She doesn’t like to remember them.”
He stared at me then, as if he expected me to say something more. But I didn’t.
“I thought maybe you’d have asked her,” he said at last. “You might have wanted to know.”
Sometimes lying is so easy, you do it before you even think.
“No,” I said. “I never did.”
B eing a hostage wasn’t anything like I imagined it would be, having heard about it from the news on ABC. I had never imagined hostages eating, for example. I’d never wondered how they slept at night.
But all those things occurred to me on day two of our captivity. They came up because Andrew Snow went into our kitchen.
Overnight he had found an even better way to chain the front door shut, so we couldn’t get outside. That left him free to explore a little, and the first thing he did was look in our cabinets.
There wasn’t much inside. After our dinner party the night before he came, there were few groceries left, considering we usually weren’t too well stocked anyway. He poked around, then asked me what we usually ate.
I shrugged, mindful of Rew, seething in the front room, listening to me converse with the enemy.
“I mean when your Gran cooks for you,” he prompted.
I tried to come up with an answer that wouldn’t hurt Gran or enrage Rew.
“She doesn’t cook that much,” I said carefully. “But we get by.”
Andrew Snow looked at me. “Who does the shopping?” he asked.
It took a minute for me to answer him, I was so struck by how Rew had known he’d be asking that. My brother was too smart for himself, I thought. In a way, it scared me. Andrew Snow was waiting for an answer, though, so I said, “Sometimes Gran, sometimes me.”
“You?”
“I can do it,” I said, indignant. “If she gives me a list, and money.”
“Well,” he said, looking again at the nearly empty cupboard, “I can give you a list. But what about money? Is there some in the house here?”
“Just a little,” I said, careful, in case he meant to trick me. “Just enough for food and stuff.”
Andrew Snow tilted his head and sighed. It startled me, because Rew does that, too, sometimes, when he gets tired. “I’m not going to take it,” he said, “if that’s what you’re thinking. But we will need to eat.”
He left me then and went through the front room and up the stairs. I didn’t understand what he meant to do until it was too late, when I heard him knocking on Gran’s door.
I dashed after him then.
“Leave her be!” I said, and Rew, who had followed me up, pushed him from behind. But Andrew Snow paid no attention.
“Mom,” he said. The word was so strange, it stopped us both for a moment. Of course, he must have called her that once.
“Open up. I want to talk to you.”
I could hear the bed creak on the other side of the door. Gran didn’t answer.
Andrew Snow looked over his shoulder at us. “Go downstairs,” he said. “I only want to talk to her.”
Neither of us moved. He put his hand on the doorknob. The door opened easily. Gran never locked it. She didn’t have to. We knew when to leave her be.
Gran was lying in her bed, her back to us, her face to the wall. I knew she was awake. When she heard the door open, she shook her head ever so slightly.
Andrew
He looked a little surprised to see me standing there so long, just looking. Maybe he thought I wanted him to say something. So he did.
“You’re eleven, aren’t you?” he said to me.
I nodded.
“I remember you as a tiny thing,” he said. “Last time I saw you, you were just three. But you talked then. Did your Gran ever tell you?”
I shook my head. “She doesn’t tell about those times,” I said. “She doesn’t like to remember them.”
He stared at me then, as if he expected me to say something more. But I didn’t.
“I thought maybe you’d have asked her,” he said at last. “You might have wanted to know.”
Sometimes lying is so easy, you do it before you even think.
“No,” I said. “I never did.”
B eing a hostage wasn’t anything like I imagined it would be, having heard about it from the news on ABC. I had never imagined hostages eating, for example. I’d never wondered how they slept at night.
But all those things occurred to me on day two of our captivity. They came up because Andrew Snow went into our kitchen.
Overnight he had found an even better way to chain the front door shut, so we couldn’t get outside. That left him free to explore a little, and the first thing he did was look in our cabinets.
There wasn’t much inside. After our dinner party the night before he came, there were few groceries left, considering we usually weren’t too well stocked anyway. He poked around, then asked me what we usually ate.
I shrugged, mindful of Rew, seething in the front room, listening to me converse with the enemy.
“I mean when your Gran cooks for you,” he prompted.
I tried to come up with an answer that wouldn’t hurt Gran or enrage Rew.
“She doesn’t cook that much,” I said carefully. “But we get by.”
Andrew Snow looked at me. “Who does the shopping?” he asked.
It took a minute for me to answer him, I was so struck by how Rew had known he’d be asking that. My brother was too smart for himself, I thought. In a way, it scared me. Andrew Snow was waiting for an answer, though, so I said, “Sometimes Gran, sometimes me.”
“You?”
“I can do it,” I said, indignant. “If she gives me a list, and money.”
“Well,” he said, looking again at the nearly empty cupboard, “I can give you a list. But what about money? Is there some in the house here?”
“Just a little,” I said, careful, in case he meant to trick me. “Just enough for food and stuff.”
Andrew Snow tilted his head and sighed. It startled me, because Rew does that, too, sometimes, when he gets tired. “I’m not going to take it,” he said, “if that’s what you’re thinking. But we will need to eat.”
He left me then and went through the front room and up the stairs. I didn’t understand what he meant to do until it was too late, when I heard him knocking on Gran’s door.
I dashed after him then.
“Leave her be!” I said, and Rew, who had followed me up, pushed him from behind. But Andrew Snow paid no attention.
“Mom,” he said. The word was so strange, it stopped us both for a moment. Of course, he must have called her that once.
“Open up. I want to talk to you.”
I could hear the bed creak on the other side of the door. Gran didn’t answer.
Andrew Snow looked over his shoulder at us. “Go downstairs,” he said. “I only want to talk to her.”
Neither of us moved. He put his hand on the doorknob. The door opened easily. Gran never locked it. She didn’t have to. We knew when to leave her be.
Gran was lying in her bed, her back to us, her face to the wall. I knew she was awake. When she heard the door open, she shook her head ever so slightly.
Andrew
Similar Books
