you can breathe," snapped my aunt impatiently, but a trip to the emergency room proved Vera had four broken ribs. The ambulance men gave Momma and my aunt funny looks, as if they suspected Vera couldn't possibly always be hurting herself. Then they looked at me and weakly smiled.
I was sent to bed without an evening meal. (Papa didn't come home until late because of some business meeting, and Momma retired early, leaving my aunt in charge.) All that night I heard Vera moaning, gasping and panting as she tried to sleep. Doubled over like an old crone, she came into my room in the middle of the night and shook her fist in my face. "Someday I'm going to bring down this house and everyone in it," she hissed in a deadly voice, "and you'll be the first I fell. Remember that if you never remember anything else, Second and Worst Audrina."
Arden Lowe
.
In the morning I was desperate to escape the
house. Since Ellsbeth was tending to the wounded Vera, and Momma was staying in bed with her morning sickness, I had the first opportunity of my lifetime to steal away unobserved.
The woods were full of shadows. Just like the First Audrina, I was disobeying, but the sky above said there wasn't a chance of rain, and without the rain it couldn't happen again. Shimmering sun rays fell through the lacy green canopy of leaves to pattern the path ahead with golden spots of light. Birds were singing, squirrels were chasing each other, rabbits ran, and now that I was free from Whitefern I felt good, yet slightly uneasy. Still, if ever I was going to make friends of my own I had to make the first move and prove something if to no one but myself.
I was going to see the new family living in the gardener's cottage that hadn't been occupied for many years. I'd never seen this part of the woods, but still it seemed familiar. I stopped to stare down at the path, which branched off right and crookedly wandered forward, too. Deep inside some directing knowledge told me to turn right. Each little noise I heard made me freeze, listen, straining to hear the giggle I heard when I was in that rocking chair, reliving events that had happened to the First and Best, and were glued to that chair. Little whispers were in the summer leaves. Little butterflies of panic were fluttering in my head. I kept hearing all the warnings: "Dangerous in the woods. Unsafe in the woods. Death in the woods." Nervously I quickened my steps. I'd sing like the seven dwarfs used to whistle to make them unafraid . . . now why did I think that? That was her kind of thought.
I told myself as I hurried along that it was time I braved the world by myself, time indeed. I told myself each foot away from that house of dim corners and brooding whispers was making me feel better, happier. I wasn't weak, spoiled or unfit for the world. I was just as brave as any girl of . . seven?
Something about the woods --something about the way the sun shone through the leaves. Colors were trying to speak to me, tell me what I couldn't remember. If I didn't stop thinking as I was, soon I'd be running and screaming, expecting the same thing to happen to me that had happened to her. I was the only Audrina left alive in the world. Truly I didn't have to be afraid. Lightning never struck twice in the same place.
On the very edge of a clearing, I came upon the cottage in the woods. It was a small white cottage with a red roof. I ducked to hide behind an old hickory tree when I saw a boy come out of the cottage door carrying a rake and a pail. He was tall and slim, and already I knew who he was. He was the one who'd given Vera the box of candy on Valentine's Day.
She had told me he was eleven, and in July he'd be twelve. The most popular boy in his class-- studious, intelligent, quick-witted and fun--and he had a crush on Vera. That sort of proved he wasn't too brilliant. But from what my aunt was always saying, men were only grown-up little boys, and the male sex knew only what their eyes and glands told
I was sent to bed without an evening meal. (Papa didn't come home until late because of some business meeting, and Momma retired early, leaving my aunt in charge.) All that night I heard Vera moaning, gasping and panting as she tried to sleep. Doubled over like an old crone, she came into my room in the middle of the night and shook her fist in my face. "Someday I'm going to bring down this house and everyone in it," she hissed in a deadly voice, "and you'll be the first I fell. Remember that if you never remember anything else, Second and Worst Audrina."
Arden Lowe
.
In the morning I was desperate to escape the
house. Since Ellsbeth was tending to the wounded Vera, and Momma was staying in bed with her morning sickness, I had the first opportunity of my lifetime to steal away unobserved.
The woods were full of shadows. Just like the First Audrina, I was disobeying, but the sky above said there wasn't a chance of rain, and without the rain it couldn't happen again. Shimmering sun rays fell through the lacy green canopy of leaves to pattern the path ahead with golden spots of light. Birds were singing, squirrels were chasing each other, rabbits ran, and now that I was free from Whitefern I felt good, yet slightly uneasy. Still, if ever I was going to make friends of my own I had to make the first move and prove something if to no one but myself.
I was going to see the new family living in the gardener's cottage that hadn't been occupied for many years. I'd never seen this part of the woods, but still it seemed familiar. I stopped to stare down at the path, which branched off right and crookedly wandered forward, too. Deep inside some directing knowledge told me to turn right. Each little noise I heard made me freeze, listen, straining to hear the giggle I heard when I was in that rocking chair, reliving events that had happened to the First and Best, and were glued to that chair. Little whispers were in the summer leaves. Little butterflies of panic were fluttering in my head. I kept hearing all the warnings: "Dangerous in the woods. Unsafe in the woods. Death in the woods." Nervously I quickened my steps. I'd sing like the seven dwarfs used to whistle to make them unafraid . . . now why did I think that? That was her kind of thought.
I told myself as I hurried along that it was time I braved the world by myself, time indeed. I told myself each foot away from that house of dim corners and brooding whispers was making me feel better, happier. I wasn't weak, spoiled or unfit for the world. I was just as brave as any girl of . . seven?
Something about the woods --something about the way the sun shone through the leaves. Colors were trying to speak to me, tell me what I couldn't remember. If I didn't stop thinking as I was, soon I'd be running and screaming, expecting the same thing to happen to me that had happened to her. I was the only Audrina left alive in the world. Truly I didn't have to be afraid. Lightning never struck twice in the same place.
On the very edge of a clearing, I came upon the cottage in the woods. It was a small white cottage with a red roof. I ducked to hide behind an old hickory tree when I saw a boy come out of the cottage door carrying a rake and a pail. He was tall and slim, and already I knew who he was. He was the one who'd given Vera the box of candy on Valentine's Day.
She had told me he was eleven, and in July he'd be twelve. The most popular boy in his class-- studious, intelligent, quick-witted and fun--and he had a crush on Vera. That sort of proved he wasn't too brilliant. But from what my aunt was always saying, men were only grown-up little boys, and the male sex knew only what their eyes and glands told
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