AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Avis held her breath and Rosa’s bottom lip trembled. “He wanted to find Da. He said he didn’t believe Da was a rotten pirate like in the book.”
Somehow, Martina’s voice was still level, calm. “And where did he go to look for your da?”
“Back to the library.”
Relief washed over Avis in waves. Not wandering the street or the bars by the ocean. “He’s safe, then.”
“Unless,” Martina said, looking as if she were about to be sick, “Patrick came back.”
No.He wouldn’t, would he? But if there was even a chance...
“Sit down in the living room. We’ll make a plan.” She guided Martina, her whole body shaking, down the hallway, Rosa staying so close she practically hung like a tassel from her mother’s skirt.
They woke the men—even Russell, sitting in a chair by the door, had nodded off—and explained the situation.
Russell caught her worried look and nodded. “Come on, Freddy. We’ll find him and bring him back.”
Martina, wrapped in a blanket-like shawl, stood too. “I’m coming with you.”
“Not a chance,” Freddy said, and at the same time Russell said, more gently, “It might be better for you to stay.”
Avis could see the indecision on Martina’s face. It would be safer for her to stay here, and Rosa would want her mother. But her son was out there.
“Maybe we should—” she began, but she was cut off by the shrill, distant sound of sirens.
Reflexively, Avis reached for the lamps. The air raid wardens would be passing by soon, and if they saw any light...
Wait. She looked at the grandfather clock keeping vigil in the corner. Nearly midnight.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Rosa had started crying again, louder this time, sensing the adults were upset. “An air raid drill?” Russell asked hopefully, looking to Avis for confirmation.
Which she couldn’t give. Ever since missing the first, she’d recorded the schedule from the newspaper with the vigilance of an army stenographer transcribing battle plans. “Not a scheduled one.”
“Dear God,” Martina whispered, as if trying not to let Rosa hear, “you don’t mean it might be real?”
It was what newsreels and posters had warned them of all along: The enemy might advance on them at any time. And the Germans might have chosen this night, of all nights, to drop their bombs on American soil.
Each one of them, faces set in different degrees of fear, turned to her.
And the precautions, carefully memorized, from “What to Do in an Air Raid” rushed back to her, numbered in precise order. “Russell, turn off the lights. I’ll shut off the gas. Everyoneelse, stay away from the windows. We’ll take shelter under the dining table if needed.”
An odd calm settled over her despite the sirens.
“No!” Martina cried, as Russell reached for the table lamp. “We have to get Gio. If he’s out there—if there are bombs—”
Avis paused, wasting valuable seconds when dropped explosives might come crashing through the ceiling at any moment. It must have been her frayed nerves, but it sounded like the sirens were getting louder, closer, wailing their midnight warning. “The men will find him, Martina. We have to stay inside where it’s safe.”
The men...
Russell.
Everyone knew being out on the streets, open and exposed, was the worst place to be in a bombing.
If she insisted they wait to search until after the danger had passed, Russell would stay safe.
A moment later, her senses returned. Of course not. A child might be out there, alone, unprotected.
