Summer of the War by Gloria Whelan Page A

upsetting an empty gasoline can next to the runabout and slamming the door behind her.
    I stood there forgetting all about the fish that was slowly cooking in the sun. I had been right. Carrie planned to take the boat out so she could see Brad, maybe even pick him up and go over to the Shanty with him. I knew what I should do—tell Grandpa. Of course she would deny it and I had no way of proving it. That didn’t matter. I still had to tell. Carrie didn’t know the channel well enough to take the boat out at night.
    If I said nothing and she took out the boat, Grandpa might send her back to her precious Louise and we could all get back to normal. The summer wouldn’t be entirely spoiled. But if something happened to her? What then? Standing there in the murky light of the boathouse, I put together a plan. I would pretend to be asleep. When I heard her get up I would watch out the window. The minute I saw the boat I’d awaken Grandpa and I’d tell him. He would go right after her with the Chris-Craft. It was much faster. He’d catch her up in no time and bring her back. Then she’d have to leave. It seemed so simple. I told myself I was doing what was good for the whole family.
    I went back to the dock. After the shadowy boathouse the bright sun made me blink. I felt as if I had been in the boathouse for a long time, but it could only have been a minute or two, for the perch was still slapping its tail against the dock. I picked it up to slam it against a board but something made me stop. After a minute I slid it back into the water. I hauled up the stringer and let the other four fish go too. I think I wanted to do something kind, something good. I think I wanted to even things out.
    That night Carrie didn’t put her hair up in curlers, didn’t slosh goo on her hands and put on her white gloves. As soon as she climbed into bed, she gave a great yawn, turned down her lamp, and slid under the covers. I did the same.
    Lying there awake, I could feel her like something light balanced in the air, just waiting to fall to the ground. Emily, Tommy, and Nancy were already asleep. I heard Grandpa listening to the eleven-o’clock news, and then he and Grandma came up the stairway and went into their room. Their bedroom door closed.
    All the while I was lying there, I was changing my mind back and forth. The minute Carrie got out of bed, I could threaten to tell on her. That would end her adventure. Of course she would hate me, but if I waited until after she left, she might never know how Grandpa found out.
    I heard Carrie get up and slip into her clothes. I could feel her breath as she bent over me to be sure I was asleep. I didn’t move, keeping my breathing regular. Through half-closed eyes I saw her tiptoe out of the room holding her shoes. She went down the stairway so carefully there wasn’t even a creak. She must have practiced. I ran to the window. The moon was nearly full, and I could see her crossing the yard and running down to the boathouse. She disappeared inside. Now, I thought, now is the time I should call Grandpa. I waited another minute. The runabout moved out into the channel, its light making a narrow road of gold on the water.
    â€œGrandpa,” I called. “Grandpa, wake up quick! Carrie’s gone. She took the runabout. I saw her from the window.”
    My shout awakened everyone. Polo was running back and forth barking. Grandpa came out into the hallway in his blue striped pajamas. Grandma had thrown a robe over her nightie; her hair was neatly caught up in a net. Nancy, Emily, and Tommy stood in the hallway, half asleep.
    I wanted Grandpa to start out at once. It worried me that he was just standing there. If he waited much longer, it would be hard to catch Carrie up.
    â€œMirabelle, what are you talking about?”
    I repeated my story about hearing some noise and finding Carrie gone. “I looked out of the window, and I saw Carrie running down the