Gossamer by Lois Lowry Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lois Lowry
get a good day's sleep," he said. "Tonight we'll start the strengthening. We'll have some hard work to do." He glanced over at Littlest One and smiled. Her wide eyes had already closed.
He closed his as well, and now the whole Heap slept and was silent, refreshing their vigor and strength for the work of the next night.
17
"Don't get any stupid idea about keeping me," John said. "Just because I did that stuff for you, filling the dog's dish and sweeping the porch, don't think you can keep me and make me be your slave."
They stopped briefly on the path through the park, to let Toby sniff a bush and raise his leg.
"I appreciated that," the woman told him, "the sweeping. It's hard for me because my shoulders are stiff. It was lovely to have help."
"C'mon, dog." John tugged at the leash and Toby moved to his side obediently. "The police would come if you tried to kidnap me," he pointed out. "They'd have sharpshooters, with rifles. They'd be behind every tree, aiming at your house. A guy would say into a microphone, 'Let the boy go.'"
"Goodness. That would cause some excitement in our quiet little neighborhood, wouldn't it?" She pointed to a wooden bench. "Shall we sit down for a moment? I get a little tired."
She arranged herself on the park bench and Toby settled himself at her feet. John sat beside her, kicking his feet restlessly. "Anyway, you couldn't keep me because I already have a mom and a dad. They're coming to get me. Maybe this afternoon."
He curled his hand into a spyglass and looked through it toward a squirrel at the foot of a nearby tree. "My dad has a shotgun," he said. "He could kill that squirrel. He could blow its head off.
"He could blow your head off!" he added, and turned toward her, still looking through his own curled hand.
"Goodness. Why ever would he do that?"
"Well, maybe he wouldn't. But if he found out you were mean to me, or something. Then he'd come all the way from California with his gun.
"I'd call him," he added. "I know how. He told me, 'You just call me if you need me. Anytime.' That's what he said."
"So you know your father's number in California?"
The little boy shrugged. "I don't need to. I just call that guy on TV. The Verizon guy."
"Oh. I see."
"It would cost a whole lot. And you'd have to pay. If you don't pay your phone bill, they keep calling to remind you, and if you still don't pay? Then they turn your phone off. Then how are you supposed to get a job or anything?"
The woman chuckled. She gathered her purse and sweater and stood. "Come, Toby, time to go home," she said. "Actually," she said to the boy as he wound Toby's leash around his hand, "I don't think I'll be looking for a job. I had one, once. I was a teacher. But I've been retired for quite a while.
"Is your mother looking for a job?" she asked, as they walked toward the park entrance. "Is that why you're worried about the phone?"
He scowled. "My mom don't need a job," he said. "She's rich. She lives in a mansion. She has bodyguards.
"Right now she's on vacation," he added. "That's why I have to stay with you and be your slave."
At the street corner, she put her hand lightly on his shoulder. "Wait for the walk light," she reminded him.
He held tightly to the dog's leash. "If it wasn't for me," he announced loudly, "this here dog would be roadkill."
The woman glanced down at Toby, waiting patiently for the light to change. "You're probably right, John," she said.
"He's just a mutt, though." The walk light flickered on and they crossed the street. "Not worth anything. What did you pay for him? You probably got robbed."
The woman laughed. She looked down again at the scruffy mongrel, with his mottled fur and ragged ears. "Actually, I didn't pay anything for him," she explained. "I found him on my porch, freezing, one winter morning. He was just a puppy that someone had mistreated and then abandoned. But he's worth a lot to me, John. He's my closest friend."
They approached the little house and the
He closed his as well, and now the whole Heap slept and was silent, refreshing their vigor and strength for the work of the next night.
17
"Don't get any stupid idea about keeping me," John said. "Just because I did that stuff for you, filling the dog's dish and sweeping the porch, don't think you can keep me and make me be your slave."
They stopped briefly on the path through the park, to let Toby sniff a bush and raise his leg.
"I appreciated that," the woman told him, "the sweeping. It's hard for me because my shoulders are stiff. It was lovely to have help."
"C'mon, dog." John tugged at the leash and Toby moved to his side obediently. "The police would come if you tried to kidnap me," he pointed out. "They'd have sharpshooters, with rifles. They'd be behind every tree, aiming at your house. A guy would say into a microphone, 'Let the boy go.'"
"Goodness. That would cause some excitement in our quiet little neighborhood, wouldn't it?" She pointed to a wooden bench. "Shall we sit down for a moment? I get a little tired."
She arranged herself on the park bench and Toby settled himself at her feet. John sat beside her, kicking his feet restlessly. "Anyway, you couldn't keep me because I already have a mom and a dad. They're coming to get me. Maybe this afternoon."
He curled his hand into a spyglass and looked through it toward a squirrel at the foot of a nearby tree. "My dad has a shotgun," he said. "He could kill that squirrel. He could blow its head off.
"He could blow your head off!" he added, and turned toward her, still looking through his own curled hand.
"Goodness. Why ever would he do that?"
"Well, maybe he wouldn't. But if he found out you were mean to me, or something. Then he'd come all the way from California with his gun.
"I'd call him," he added. "I know how. He told me, 'You just call me if you need me. Anytime.' That's what he said."
"So you know your father's number in California?"
The little boy shrugged. "I don't need to. I just call that guy on TV. The Verizon guy."
"Oh. I see."
"It would cost a whole lot. And you'd have to pay. If you don't pay your phone bill, they keep calling to remind you, and if you still don't pay? Then they turn your phone off. Then how are you supposed to get a job or anything?"
The woman chuckled. She gathered her purse and sweater and stood. "Come, Toby, time to go home," she said. "Actually," she said to the boy as he wound Toby's leash around his hand, "I don't think I'll be looking for a job. I had one, once. I was a teacher. But I've been retired for quite a while.
"Is your mother looking for a job?" she asked, as they walked toward the park entrance. "Is that why you're worried about the phone?"
He scowled. "My mom don't need a job," he said. "She's rich. She lives in a mansion. She has bodyguards.
"Right now she's on vacation," he added. "That's why I have to stay with you and be your slave."
At the street corner, she put her hand lightly on his shoulder. "Wait for the walk light," she reminded him.
He held tightly to the dog's leash. "If it wasn't for me," he announced loudly, "this here dog would be roadkill."
The woman glanced down at Toby, waiting patiently for the light to change. "You're probably right, John," she said.
"He's just a mutt, though." The walk light flickered on and they crossed the street. "Not worth anything. What did you pay for him? You probably got robbed."
The woman laughed. She looked down again at the scruffy mongrel, with his mottled fur and ragged ears. "Actually, I didn't pay anything for him," she explained. "I found him on my porch, freezing, one winter morning. He was just a puppy that someone had mistreated and then abandoned. But he's worth a lot to me, John. He's my closest friend."
They approached the little house and the
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