Mouse couldn’t see anything. Marv Hammerman could have been right in front of him, and Mouse wouldn’t have been able to see him.
He held onto the banister, leaning on it, and then suddenly everything cleared. Mouse looked up the street and there was Garbage Dog coming toward him with an old Lorna Doone cookie box in his mouth. He looked the other way and there was Mr. Casino making his way back to Margy’s. In the distance were two strange boys walking along with a basketball, bouncing it back and forth between them.
Marv Hammerman was nowhere in sight. With an almost sickening sense of relief, Mouse knew that Hammerman had not seen him and had gone on across the street and up Fourth to where he lived.
“Wait a minute, that’s the wrong way, Mr. Casino,” he called quickly. “Wait, Mr. Casino.”
He ran after Mr. Casino and caught up with him just as the two boys stopped bouncing the ball. The boys were looking curiously at Mr. Casino in his long dark overcoat. “This way,” Mouse said. He turned him around, and with the same slow rocking steps they started for home. “We’ll be all right now.”
M OUSE ENTERED THE APARTMENT and went directly into the hall and sank down on his bed. In the living room his mother was still going through her cosmetic orders. She called, “Did you get Mr. Casino home all right?”
He said, “Yes.” He waited, but she did not say anything else. He turned over on his bed and looked at the wall. His heart was still beating so loudly he could hear it. It seemed to him that he had passed through the most dangerous moment of his life. He wanted to call out, “I was just almost killed in case you are interested,” but he did not. He knew the loud strange way his voice sounded when he was frightened, and he knew that his mother would not be concerned, but only tired, a little disgusted. “Don’t start on that again,” she would say. She never seemed to take danger seriously.
He thought of taking out a pencil, writing on the wall ALIVE AND WELL BY A MIRACLE and drawing an arrow to his collapsed body, but he didn’t have the strength to look for a pencil. He lay without moving.
He recalled the time he had had his tonsils out, how lightly his mother had treated that. She had said, “Look, it’s just your tonsils—those little things on the back of your throat. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
But it had been a big deal to him. He could still remember the feeling of being in the hospital, of lying in a strange bed. The only reason he had been able to survive that night at all was because, at the last minute, his father had gone down to the car and brought up his flashlight. It was a big, heavy metal flashlight that his father kept in the car in case of an emergency on the road. His father had brought the flashlight out from under his jacket and quickly poked it under the covers. “There, now you’ll be all right.”
The flashlight had made Mouse feel better. The cold metal against his leg had calmed him. And when all the other children had gone to sleep and he alone had lain there awake, he had turned on the flashlight and shone it on the faces of the other children in the ward. He could remember right now the way their faces had looked in the pale circle of light. He thought that if he saw one of those children on the street right now today, he would recognize him and go up and say, “Hey, weren’t you in the hospital one time?”
Marv Hammerman came back into his mind and Mouse shifted onto his other side. He tried to think of something else.
Emergency Nine—Approach of Mad Elephants. When a herd of mad elephants is stampeding in your direction, quickly climb the nearest tall tree and wait. According to Ezzie there was nothing as pleasant as lying coolly on the limb of a huge tree while a herd of mad elephants passed beneath you like a noisy, dusty river.
“Do you have any homework?” his mother called from the living room.
“No.”
“Well, there’s a
He held onto the banister, leaning on it, and then suddenly everything cleared. Mouse looked up the street and there was Garbage Dog coming toward him with an old Lorna Doone cookie box in his mouth. He looked the other way and there was Mr. Casino making his way back to Margy’s. In the distance were two strange boys walking along with a basketball, bouncing it back and forth between them.
Marv Hammerman was nowhere in sight. With an almost sickening sense of relief, Mouse knew that Hammerman had not seen him and had gone on across the street and up Fourth to where he lived.
“Wait a minute, that’s the wrong way, Mr. Casino,” he called quickly. “Wait, Mr. Casino.”
He ran after Mr. Casino and caught up with him just as the two boys stopped bouncing the ball. The boys were looking curiously at Mr. Casino in his long dark overcoat. “This way,” Mouse said. He turned him around, and with the same slow rocking steps they started for home. “We’ll be all right now.”
M OUSE ENTERED THE APARTMENT and went directly into the hall and sank down on his bed. In the living room his mother was still going through her cosmetic orders. She called, “Did you get Mr. Casino home all right?”
He said, “Yes.” He waited, but she did not say anything else. He turned over on his bed and looked at the wall. His heart was still beating so loudly he could hear it. It seemed to him that he had passed through the most dangerous moment of his life. He wanted to call out, “I was just almost killed in case you are interested,” but he did not. He knew the loud strange way his voice sounded when he was frightened, and he knew that his mother would not be concerned, but only tired, a little disgusted. “Don’t start on that again,” she would say. She never seemed to take danger seriously.
He thought of taking out a pencil, writing on the wall ALIVE AND WELL BY A MIRACLE and drawing an arrow to his collapsed body, but he didn’t have the strength to look for a pencil. He lay without moving.
He recalled the time he had had his tonsils out, how lightly his mother had treated that. She had said, “Look, it’s just your tonsils—those little things on the back of your throat. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
But it had been a big deal to him. He could still remember the feeling of being in the hospital, of lying in a strange bed. The only reason he had been able to survive that night at all was because, at the last minute, his father had gone down to the car and brought up his flashlight. It was a big, heavy metal flashlight that his father kept in the car in case of an emergency on the road. His father had brought the flashlight out from under his jacket and quickly poked it under the covers. “There, now you’ll be all right.”
The flashlight had made Mouse feel better. The cold metal against his leg had calmed him. And when all the other children had gone to sleep and he alone had lain there awake, he had turned on the flashlight and shone it on the faces of the other children in the ward. He could remember right now the way their faces had looked in the pale circle of light. He thought that if he saw one of those children on the street right now today, he would recognize him and go up and say, “Hey, weren’t you in the hospital one time?”
Marv Hammerman came back into his mind and Mouse shifted onto his other side. He tried to think of something else.
Emergency Nine—Approach of Mad Elephants. When a herd of mad elephants is stampeding in your direction, quickly climb the nearest tall tree and wait. According to Ezzie there was nothing as pleasant as lying coolly on the limb of a huge tree while a herd of mad elephants passed beneath you like a noisy, dusty river.
“Do you have any homework?” his mother called from the living room.
“No.”
“Well, there’s a
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