narrow-eyed looks across the breakfast table.
Petros was still angry too and thought his brother looked a little more smug than usual. He wished he could make Zola regret his irritating manner.
Zola busied himself with some chores in the yard, his dog at his heels as he walked around. He hung around the doorway during a short visit from Elia’s grandmother and stood at the gate talking to a passerby.
Petros had weeded the rows of basil and nearly-ripe tomatoes before Mama asked Zola why he wasn’t working in the garden too.
When Zola finally came to help, Petros was ready to give his brother a hard time.
“This afternoon,” Zola said out of the corner of his mouth, as if the tomatoes would repeat his secrets, “Elia’s grandmother wants you to go into town with him to get her knitting wool.”
Petros’s heart leaped, but he said, “It could wait.”
“Too late. The trucks,” Zola said. He lowered his voice still further. “Haven’t you noticed how few are passing the house since yesterday? If the troops are all here, the commander will follow.”
Petros nodded. His brother might have a point.
“These are the last notes, and they’re ready,” Zola said.
Still not wanting to look too willing a partner, Petros said, “Why the last?”
Zola lifted his chin slightly. “Because they are, that’s all.”
Fifi had climbed out of the goat pen again. She trotted in their direction, stopping to nibble at a reaching tendril of sweet pea. Zola’s dog, always careful to avoid Fifi, ambled off to the far end of the row.
“Are you afraid of Papa finding out?”
“I’m afraid of nothing,” Zola said. Fifi arrived to bite Zola on the back of his leg. “Ow!” Zola yelled, jumping away from her. “This goat is a menace.”
Petros hid a smile and snapped off a nearby stem. “Here, give her a nibble of this sweet pea vine and she won’t bite you so hard next time.”
“You give it to her,” Zola said as Fifi sat down like a good dog would, waiting for a treat. “I won’t do her any favors.”
Petros fed the goat, saying, “I don’t think Elia should help us now that the Germans are here. His family could be safe if he doesn’t cause any trouble.”
“His family’s safe if he isn’t caught,” Zola said.
“Something could go wrong.”
Zola’s face darkened. “It’s a matter of courage, little brother. We may be frightened, but we fight anyway. That’s what a man does.”
Petros felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Did Zola think he didn’t have the courage for this?
chapter 26
Everything went very well at first. Stavros met them in the road and the boys played the game as before, but without laughter or cheers when they made a good catch. Before, it seemed this distracted the eye of anyone watching and it was good. But nerves stole the laughter out of the game.
Petros caught and threw the sand ball and dropped a note whenever he’d found a good place for it, but he saw how different it was this time. At first it was nerves, but when Stavros threw too hard, nerves quickly gave way to anger. They all threw the sand ball to be caught, but threw harder.
Only when the last note was dropped did the boys stop to argue about who threw the sand ball too hard first. The fight ended when Stavros threw the sand ball to the ground hard enough to burst the cloth. Petros expected to share a glance of
there he goes again
, but Elia didn’t look at him.
Petros wanted to have something funny to say, or wanted someone else to make a joke, but nothing like that came to any of them. Still, without a word to show he’d been angry ornow wasn’t, Stavros walked away from the village with them. Petros said, “There won’t be any more messages for a time. Zola said so.”
“I guessed it,” Stavros said. He sounded like this was the worst news he’d gotten since his mother left for the mountains. But also there was a certain relief in his voice.
Elia now felt free to complain that the
Petros was still angry too and thought his brother looked a little more smug than usual. He wished he could make Zola regret his irritating manner.
Zola busied himself with some chores in the yard, his dog at his heels as he walked around. He hung around the doorway during a short visit from Elia’s grandmother and stood at the gate talking to a passerby.
Petros had weeded the rows of basil and nearly-ripe tomatoes before Mama asked Zola why he wasn’t working in the garden too.
When Zola finally came to help, Petros was ready to give his brother a hard time.
“This afternoon,” Zola said out of the corner of his mouth, as if the tomatoes would repeat his secrets, “Elia’s grandmother wants you to go into town with him to get her knitting wool.”
Petros’s heart leaped, but he said, “It could wait.”
“Too late. The trucks,” Zola said. He lowered his voice still further. “Haven’t you noticed how few are passing the house since yesterday? If the troops are all here, the commander will follow.”
Petros nodded. His brother might have a point.
“These are the last notes, and they’re ready,” Zola said.
Still not wanting to look too willing a partner, Petros said, “Why the last?”
Zola lifted his chin slightly. “Because they are, that’s all.”
Fifi had climbed out of the goat pen again. She trotted in their direction, stopping to nibble at a reaching tendril of sweet pea. Zola’s dog, always careful to avoid Fifi, ambled off to the far end of the row.
“Are you afraid of Papa finding out?”
“I’m afraid of nothing,” Zola said. Fifi arrived to bite Zola on the back of his leg. “Ow!” Zola yelled, jumping away from her. “This goat is a menace.”
Petros hid a smile and snapped off a nearby stem. “Here, give her a nibble of this sweet pea vine and she won’t bite you so hard next time.”
“You give it to her,” Zola said as Fifi sat down like a good dog would, waiting for a treat. “I won’t do her any favors.”
Petros fed the goat, saying, “I don’t think Elia should help us now that the Germans are here. His family could be safe if he doesn’t cause any trouble.”
“His family’s safe if he isn’t caught,” Zola said.
“Something could go wrong.”
Zola’s face darkened. “It’s a matter of courage, little brother. We may be frightened, but we fight anyway. That’s what a man does.”
Petros felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Did Zola think he didn’t have the courage for this?
chapter 26
Everything went very well at first. Stavros met them in the road and the boys played the game as before, but without laughter or cheers when they made a good catch. Before, it seemed this distracted the eye of anyone watching and it was good. But nerves stole the laughter out of the game.
Petros caught and threw the sand ball and dropped a note whenever he’d found a good place for it, but he saw how different it was this time. At first it was nerves, but when Stavros threw too hard, nerves quickly gave way to anger. They all threw the sand ball to be caught, but threw harder.
Only when the last note was dropped did the boys stop to argue about who threw the sand ball too hard first. The fight ended when Stavros threw the sand ball to the ground hard enough to burst the cloth. Petros expected to share a glance of
there he goes again
, but Elia didn’t look at him.
Petros wanted to have something funny to say, or wanted someone else to make a joke, but nothing like that came to any of them. Still, without a word to show he’d been angry ornow wasn’t, Stavros walked away from the village with them. Petros said, “There won’t be any more messages for a time. Zola said so.”
“I guessed it,” Stavros said. He sounded like this was the worst news he’d gotten since his mother left for the mountains. But also there was a certain relief in his voice.
Elia now felt free to complain that the
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