Bronze Pen (9781439156650) Read Online Free PDF

attacks Beowulf ’s patience wore out, and he began to growl and show his teeth every time his tormentor got anywhere near him.
    This time the big dog’s snarls were more convincingly ferocious than usual, and Audrey began to worry that he might really lose it. One bite from Beowulf and no more Sputnik, that was for sure. But when she asked her father if he thought that was a possibility, he only grinned.
    â€œDon’t worry,” he said. “He’d probably spit him out. Anything as mean as that crazy bird is sure to taste awful.”
    The dog-and-bird show did make the time pass quickly, and it was getting dangerously close to seven o’clock when Audrey finally had to convince Sputnik to go home by threatening him with the butterfly net. Still squawking four-letter words, he swooped back into his cage just as Hannah’s car came down the driveway.
    It was a close call. It wouldn’t have done for Sputnik to be on the loose when Hannah got home that particular day, because it had been an especially bad one. Accordingto Hannah, Mrs. Austin, her boss at the savings and loan, had been even meaner and more unreasonable than usual, which resulted in a worse-than-usual headache.
    So a typical week came to an end, and then it was Saturday. With Hannah at home to look after John, it might have been possible to sneak up to the cave—if it hadn’t been for the rain. The rain went on and on, but in the late afternoon Audrey went so far as to put on her mother’s gardening boots and an old raincoat and start out up the path. However, she had gone only a few steps before she turned back, realizing there was no way she could make it all the way up the steep, rain-slick trail.
    But Sunday morning was clear and warmer, and right after breakfast Audrey began to plan her getaway to the cave. Actually, it shouldn’t be too difficult. On Saturdays and Sundays, Audrey often spent time alone either in her room or on one of the terraces when the weather was good. Time spent supposedly reading or doing homework, but more often working on her latest novel. So neither of her parents would worry if she disappeared for a while. But just to make sure, she was careful to set the stage.
    Not long after lunch was over, she made it a point to spend a few minutes at the living room’s bookshelves near where her father was reading while her mother did a crossword puzzle. After very obviously going over every bookshelf, she carefully chose Jane Eyre and Great Expectations, books she’d already read at least once, in case her parentsshould, as they often did, want to discuss what she’d been reading. With the books held conspicuously under her arm, she crossed the room, took off down the hall toward her bedroom, turned back, and tiptoed toward the back of the house.
    Out on the back porch she stashed the books on a shelf above the washing machine, between a box of detergent and a bottle of bleach, before starting up the brick steps that led to the highest terrace. Arriving there a little out of breath, she turned slowly in a circle, looking and listening. It was the same place where she’d been before, but now there was nothing to see but grass and stiff, silent bushes. She sat down and waited for quite a long time, but the silence continued. There was no movement among the leaves and no sound at all.
    This meant she would have to make the decision all by herself: Should she go on to the cave or simply go back home? She hadn’t come to any conclusion, at least not one she remembered making, but suddenly she was on her way, scrambling up the steep, slippery path that led across barren stretches of hillside and through groves of trees until, tired and breathless, she came to a stop at the vine-hung entrance to the cave.
    No flight of blackbirds this time. Not even after she stepped closer and waved her arms. But there was something. A soft murmur of birdlike chatter and, as she moved nearer, the