The Silent Boy by Lois Lowry Read Free Book Online

a young girl, in from the farm, sending the money back home, to help out.
    They were all slightly younger than Austin's brother, Paul Bishop, who would graduate next year from high school. Watching her unpin the towels, I wondered if she ever wished she could have stayed in school, studying French and
algebra, instead of washing tea towels and scrubbing the kitchen floor for the Stevensons.
    Nellie came out to check on Laura Paisley, and behind her came Paul, who was home because the high school had also closed for the day. "Katy," Nell called to me, "ask your mother can Peggy come out just for a bit. Mrs. Bishop said I could!" Nell had a bright pink scarf wrapped around her neck, and her cheeks were pink, too, from the cold. Paul scraped some snow from the porch rail and made as if to put it down her neck, and Nell shrieked, as he wanted her to, and hunched her shoulders against him, laughing. Paul often teased Nellie till she giggled and blushed. Once, in the fall, when she was hanging sheets on the line in their backyard, I saw Paul come up behind her and put his face suddenly right into her hair. He tickled her with his nose against her neck and slid his arm around her waist. She had to wrestle him away, but she was laughing.
    "We'll go sledding!" Paul called to Austin and me.
    "Bundle up," Mother said when I went in for Peggy, "and don't stay out too long. Peg, you bring her home by lunchtime, and see that your sister doesn't let that little Laura Paisley get too cold!"
    "Or Austin," I reminded my mother. "Nell must watch out for him, too."
    "
Boys,
"Mother said, laughing. "Austin and Paul
can watch out for themselves, I imagine."
    My friend Jessie Wood appeared at her corner, dragging her sled, and off we went, the group of us, to the hill beyond the Presbyterian church, pulling our sleds behind us, Laura Paisley perched on one and giggling as she bumped along. Everywhere were children and sleds in the new-rolled streets; and we could hear the jingle of sleigh bells as horses trotted by, pulling runnered cutters instead of the buggies that they were accustomed to. They tossed their heads and snorted steam.
    "Did you go sledding when you lived at home, Peggy?" I asked. She was walking beside me, holding my hand.
    "We didn't have sleds," she explained. "But we sat on cooking tins and slid down the hill. They whirled us all about."
    "Nellie too? And Jacob?"
    "Nellie did till she moved in to town. And once I held Anna in my lap and slid. But Jacob never, though he watched. I think he don't like the fastness."
    "I don't, either," I confessed. "I just like the little hills."
    "Katy's a fraidy-baby," Jessie said. "No, I'm not," I replied, but I knew it was true that I was.
    "Ride with me, Katy, and try the big hill," Peggy
offered. "I'll hold you tight, I promise. It's a treat, full-speed. And the boys, they'll call you scaredy-cat if you don't."
    So I did. Peg was strong and sturdy, and I wasn't frightened with her arms tight around me. I sat in front of her, on her long wool skirt. She pulled the guide rope up on either side, put her feet firm against the steer board, and we pushed off and sailed, both of us shrieking laughter all the way to the bottom of the hill, where we had to turn sharp to miss a tree. Then we stood there and watched as the others came down: Austin on his own, belly-whopping, and Jessie, too, lying on her sled and laughing as she flew by. Finally Paul and Nellie flew past together with Laura Paisley wedged in between. But Laura Paisley was fearful and cried. So Peggy and I took her to the babies hill and left Nell and Paul on their own.
    On the gentle slope Laura Paisley wasn't frightened. Peggy sent her down again and again, and I waited at the bottom to haul her back up. From there, we could hear Austin hollering as he sped down the big hill, and I could see Jessie go just as fast and call out just as loud. Now and then we heard Nellie call out, too, in delight. Looking over from where I stood, I