Number the Stars by Lois Lowry Read Free Book Online Page B

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    Annemarie leaned down and picked up a brown leaf that floated back and forth with the movement of the water.
    "Look," she said. "This leaf may have come from a tree in Sweden. It could have blown from a tree into the sea, and floated all the way across. See over there?" she said, pointing. "Sec the land? Way across there? That's Sweden."
    Ellen cupped one hand over her eyes and looked across the water at the misty shoreline that was another country. "It's not so very far," she said.
    "Maybe," Annemarie suggested, "standing over there are two girls just our age, looking across and saying, 'That's Denmark!'"
    They squinted into the hazy distance, as if they might see Swedish children standing there and looking back. But it was too far. They saw only the hazy strip of land and two small boats bobbing up and down in the gray ruffles of separating water.
    "I wonder if one of those is your Uncle Henrik's boat," Ellen said.
    "Maybe. I can't tell. They're too far away. Uncle Henrik's boat is named the
Ingeborg
," she told Ellen, "for Mama."
    Ellen looked around. "Does he keep it right here? Does he tie it up so that it won't float away?"
    Annemarie laughed. "Oh, no. In town, at the harbor, there's a big dock, and all the fishing boats go and come from there. That's where they unload their fish. You should smell it! At night they are all there, anchored in the harbor."
    "Annemarie! Ellen!" Mama's voice came across the meadow. The girls looked around, and saw her waving to them. They turned, picked up their shoes, and began walking toward the house. The kitten, who had settled comfortably on the stony shore, rose immediately and followed them.
    "I took Ellen down to show her the sea," Annemarie explained when they reached the place where Mama waited. "She'd never been that close before! We started to wade, but it was too cold. I wish we had come in summer so we could swim."
    "It's cold even then," Mama said. She looked around. "You didn't see anyone, did you? You didn't talk to anyone?"
    Annemarie shook her head. "Just the kitten." Ellen had picked it up, and it lay purring in her arms as she stroked its small head and talked to it softly.
    "I meant to warn you. You must stay away from people while we are here."
    "But there's no one around here," Annemarie reminded her.
    "Even so. If you see anyone at all—even someone you know, one of Henrik's friends—it is better if you come in the house. It is too difficult—maybe even dangerous—to explain who Ellen is."
    Ellen looked up and bit her lip. "There aren't soldiers here, too?" she asked.
    Mama sighed. "I'm afraid there are soldiers everywhere. And especially now. This is a bad time.
    "Come in now and help me fix supper. Henrik will be home soon. Watch the step there; it's loose. Do you know what I have done? I found enough apples for applesauce. Even though there is no sugar, the apples are sweet. Henrik will bring home some fish and there is wood for the fire, so tonight we will be warm and well fed."
    "It is not a bad time, then," Annemarie told her. "Not if there is applesauce."
    Ellen kissed the kitten's head and let it leap from her arms to the ground. It darted away and disappeared in the tall grass. They followed Mama into the house.
    That night, the girls dressed for bed in the small upstairs bedroom they were sharing, the same bedroom that had been Mama's when she was a little girl. Across the hall, Kirsti was already asleep in the wide bed that had once belonged to Annemarie's grandparents.
    Ellen touched her neck after she had put on Annemarie's flower-sprigged nightgown, which Mama had packed.
    "Where is my necklace?" she asked. "What did you do with it?"
    "I hid it in a safe place," Annemarie told her. "A very secret place where no one will ever find it. And I will keep it there for you until it is safe for you to wear it again."
    Ellen nodded. "Papa gave it to me when I was very small," she explained.
    She sat down on the edge of the old bed and ran her fingers