Willow Run by Patricia Reilly Giff

have to talk to you about before I never see you again.”
    “Don't say that.”
    “You live… where? Rockaway? I never even heard of that place before you came,” he said. “I've never been to New York. Never seen the ocean.”
    I didn't know exactly where Detroit was, either.
    “When I'm grown up,” I began, then raised one shoulder the way he had. He was right. I'd never get to Detroit and he'd never get to New York. Wasn't that strange? In a few minutes he'd be gone forever, and even though I'd knownhim only a couple of weeks, he'd be there in my head until I was at least as old as Grandpa.
    I stared at him so I'd remember his face, the light eyes, the few freckles, his ears flat to his head. I wished I had done that with Eddie, stared at him hard enough to remember him forever.
    “We owe Arnold the Spy a lot of money,” Harlan said. “More than I can count.”
    “I know I have to pay him back,” I said. “I have this week's allowance, and I can ask Dad for next week's.…” I thought for a moment. “And the week after that, maybe.”
    Dad would wonder why.
    And how was I going to get the money to Arnold? Suppose I left it on the seat of the truck? I saw myself climbing up on the running board, looking over my shoulder to see his angry face a step in back of me. It was like a terrible movie I had seen with Grandpa one time. “
Watch out, he's got a gun! More popcorn, Margaret?”
    But Grandpa wasn't here to make it seem less scary. He was home, weeding his garden. I glanced down over the step, but his seeds weren't growing. Maybe they'd all washed out in the rain the other day.
    I leaned over farther. I knew that spot by heart, the five stones I had laid against the wall of the house so they'd be out of the way, the faint ridges in the earth where I had planted the seeds.
Grow,
I told them,
grow
.
    At the curb Mr. Tucker opened the front door of thecar. “Let's go, Harley,” he called. “Got a long way to drive before dark.”
    Mrs. Tucker locked the apartment and dropped the key back into the mail slot in the door. She leaned her head against the wall for just an instant, then came down the path. “I'll never forget this place,” she said. “It was a hard time, a terrible time.” She bit her lip. “Tell your mom and dad I'm praying for them, and praying for your brother.”
    I crossed the lawn and she hugged me there on the front path. “I hope you'll go home soon, Meggie.” She touched my shoulder, shaking her head. “This war has done something to every single one of us.”
    “Harlan!” Mr. Tucker called again.
    “I'm coming, aren't I?” Harlan said, but he didn't get up from my stoop.
    I hesitated, then went back to him.
    “Listen, Meggie,” he said. “I've got to go. Just give this to Arnold the Spy.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a dollar bill.
    I had seen it before, creased and old: his uncle Leo's hardware-store dollar.
    “Tell him it's the best thing I ever had.” Harlan's eyes filled as he looked down at it. He unfolded it. “Look. My uncle's initials in pencil.
L.T.
I did that so they'd always be there.”
    I put my hands behind my back. “Don't do it, Harlan.” I could hardly talk.
    Mr. Tucker tapped the horn now, a short, warning sound, and Harlan grabbed my elbow. “I thought I had a year to pay him back, even two years. But there's no time left.” He opened my curled fingers and put the dollar bill in my hand. “Tell him my uncle was a hero. Leo Tucker.”
    I watched him zigzag across the grass, calling back over his shoulder. “Tell him to take good care of it,” he called. “It's all I have left of my uncle.”
    “I will.” I took a step after him, wondering how I would ever do that.
    Harlan slid into the car, giving Kennis a little punch. “You have to take up all the room?” He rolled down the window and stuck out his head. “If Eddie doesn't come back, maybe you'll get some money from the government, enough to buy a hardware store of your