OCR Text |
Show 7-9 But after what happened this evening with Mother, our separation frightened me. When Mother said I could not go to see Andrew again, she had drawn a curtain around herself which I could not draw aside. I was afraid that no matter what I said, Mother would not change her mind. It did not matter to her how I felt about Andrew. She had decided, it was final. My faith in my father's ability to change her had held me through the evening, but now? Right now, I needed my parents, I needed to be able to talk to them, to convince them that Andrew was not something to be feared, but a friend who needed me. Tomorrow, I would have to talk to Father, get him to persuade Mother to let me go. I could talk to him by telephone, even if I couldn't see him. I kicked the sheet off me and tried to find a cool spot on the bed. Poor Grandfather. But why did this have to happen now? I remembered how worried Mother had been when he had gotten sick before and I knew she would be again. And Grandmother almost took more care than Grandfather. I turned on my stomach and looked out the window by my bed. The night was noisy with crickets. It made the air hotter. I couldn't sleep. Alone is so much worse at night. Was Andrew afraid at night? Did he remember then the things he couldn't tell me today? I wiped my hand across my damp face. His hands must be so hot under all the bandages. Andrew. I had to see him. I would call Father tomorrow. I could see Andrew tomorrow. I turned on my side. Andrew and I, hats pulled low over our eyes, rowed a canoe, this time down the Nile. I would show him my book about Egypt tomorrow. |