Cave Under the City Read Online Free PDF Page B

voice came from behind some palms. A strict-looking woman was sitting at a desk.
    â€œI want to see my mother, Mrs. Holtz.”
    She ran her finger down a long list. “Anna Holtz?”
    â€œYes, that’s my mother.”
    â€œMine, too,” Bubber said.
    â€œShe’s in room 403.”
    â€œOkay, thanks.” I turned Bubber’s head around. He was staring at a legless man in a wheelchair.
    â€œOne minute, boys. Wait a minute,” the receptionist called after us. “You can’t go up there.”
    Bubber stopped. “Come on,” I whispered.
    â€œYou, children, stop right there.”
    Ahead, in front of the elevators, a man in a gray uniform looked our way. “Are you boys a little hard of hearing?”
    We went back and the woman pointed to a sign above her desk. “Minors under fifteen not admitted to patient floors.”
    â€œI’m sixteen,” I said. I stood up straight.
    She took off her glasses and looked at me. “You’re not sixteen. You’re not fifteen. You’re not even close.”
    â€œNo, honest, I really am.”
    She looked pained. “How old is your brother?”
    â€œHe doesn’t have to go up with me.”
    â€œI can so,” Bubber said. “I’m twenty-five.” He held up two fingers on one hand and five on the other.
    â€œAnd how much older is your big brother?”
    He held up five fingers.
    â€œI thought so.” She smiled at Bubber. Grownups always thought Bubber was cute.
    â€œI have to see my mother. It’s serious.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œWhy? She has to come home. There’s nobody at home. We’re locked out. I have to get the key from her.”
    â€œWhy aren’t you children in school? Where’s your father?”
    â€œWorking. He’s out of town. That’s why I have to talk to her. He left all of a sudden, and he didn’t leave any money.”
    The woman tapped a pencil on the desk. Then she picked up a phone. “Hello, is this the pulmonary ward? This is Mary Byrnes at reception. I have two children downstairs who are here to see—” She looked at the card.
    â€œAnna Holtz,” I said.
    â€œAnna Holtz, in room 403. It’s their mother. They’d just be coming up for a minute.”
    She listened, then she shook her head and hung up. “Sorry, boys, I can’t let you go up. Your mother is too sick for visitors.”
    â€œI’ve got to see her,” I said. “You have to let me go up there.”
    â€œWait a minute now, don’t get excited. Maybe I can help you.” She picked up the phone again. “Betty? This is Mary Brynes at reception. I have a problem—two children here who need some assistance. Their mother’s on the fourth floor … pulmonary. Nobody’s home with them.” She listened. “I know, but they came here—all right … yes … yes … okay.” She wrote something down on a slip of paper and handed it to me. It had a name and a room number. “Now you go there and they’ll help you out.” She pointed to a corridor going the opposite way from the elevators. “Follow that hallway till you come to room fifteen. That’s Social Services. They’re going to help you.”
    â€œCan we see my mother, then?”
    â€œYou talk to them first. They’ll explain everything. Now, hurry along. They’re expecting you.” She smiled at me. “Don’t worry, they’re going to take good care of you.”

9
    â€œSeven … nine … eleven …” Bubber was reading the door numbers. “Fifteen. This is it, Tolley.”
    A gray-haired woman was waiting for us. “The Holtz children? Come right in. I’m Mrs. Winslow.”
    She seemed nice—she was soft-looking and smiling. We sat down. There was a railing and a gate and desks on the other side. Bubber started counting the rails while Mrs. Winslow