A Walk Through a Window Read Online Free PDF Page B

at her and picked up another rock.
    “There may be more to this place than you think,” he said, at last. “Many cultures have come together on this small island.”
    Darby swallowed the lump in her throat. Throwing the rock had helped her get control of the sudden bout ofhomesickness. The last thing she needed was to let some local guy see her get all teary.
    “In Toronto, we have Caribana in the summer and we have the most amazing Chinatown and the Danforth has awesome Greek food. There’s nothing like that here.”
    “I think you need to look more closely,” he argued. “Look just at the people living on this street. I am Acadian, your grandparents—”
    “Are from Canada,” she cut him off. She wasn’t going to let the conversation get around to Gramps if she could help it. “And I don’t know anybody on the street, anyway.” No point mentioning she had met Shawnie. Besides, Shawnie wouldn’t have helped his argument anyway because with her Mi’kmaq heritage, she was just another boring Canadian.
    “Why do you hate this place so much?” he asked.
    Darby shrugged and looked at her watch. Time to go back and help Nan. “I don’t know. It’s boring. It’s not like home and—”
    “And?”
    “And I’m an outsider, okay? Some lady in the bank today told Nan that I was from away. From away? What a laugh. This little island is a joke. It’s so small you can hardly find it on a map! And yet the whole rest of the world is considered ‘away’? I bet nothing exciting has
ever
happened here. I don’t get why you think it’s so great, anyway. You’ve probably never been anywhere else.”
    She looked at her watch again. “I’ve got to go.”
    He didn’t argue, just turned to walk away. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime before you leave,” he said,and a smile lit up his face as he slipped back into the trees. “I live in the blue house at the end of the street.”
    Darby nearly dropped her skateboard.
    “Wait,” she called out to him. “You mean the house with the gingerbread trim?”
    But he was gone.

    Two o’clock in the afternoon. The sun beat down on the back of Darby’s neck and she turned her ball cap around to offer some protection. Her back itched. So did her shoulders. Picking raspberries was itchy business. Nan had given her a litre basket to fill and it seemed to be taking forever.
    Some job. First she had Darby peel potatoes for an hour before lunch. While they were eating, Nan announced that Darby’s job for the afternoon was to pick raspberries.
And
babysit Gramps.
    This last part she didn’t mention until Gramps had left to find his garden tool kit.
    “Just keep an eye on him, Darby. I won’t be out for very long and I just don’t—”
    “Want him to end up in a tree again?”
    Nan looked at her coldly. “Young lady, your grandfather is a wonderful man. He has a few—er—eccentricities, but he has been a kind husband and father for many more years than you have walked this earth. Now, I’m sure everything will be just fine. I’ll be back shortly.”
    She pushed the berry basket into Darby’s hands and walked out the door with that red hair of hers practically bristling off her head.
    “How ye doing there, kiddo?”
    Gramps was back. He’d been rummaging around in Nan’s garden shed. Darby brushed away a raspberry leaf that was stuck to her hat. “All right, I guess.” She cast a wary eye at him. Seemed okay. No sign that he wanted to suddenly climb a tree, anyway.
    “Hot work, pickin’ berries.”
    Darby nodded and slapped at an insect buzzing near her ear.
    “Ye gotta watch out for them blackflies, kiddo. This time o’ year they pack a mean bite.”
    She nodded again and held up her arm to show him a dime-sized scab just below her elbow.
    “I think one got me last night,” she said. “It felt like a red-hot needle had jabbed into me.”
    Gramps reached across the raspberry cane brambles and grasped her wrist in one strong hand. Darby felt a bit