Cherry Blossom Baseball Read Online Free PDF Page A

train tickets. Her father’s latest letter told them they were ready for them in Ontario. The whole family, except for Sadie and Kaz.
    Hiro had left the barn by the time she pushed the baby carriage down the lane and back. Knowing her little brother was fond of hide-and-seek, she went inside Mrs. Morrison’s house and looked behind the curtains, under the dining room table. Then she went upstairs to his usual places, but he wasn’t to be found. He’s probably climbing the fence that keeps the cows from the road, Michiko thought. From the moment her little brother could crawl, he had climbed stairs, chairs, and along the backs of settees. Then he climbed the trees in Mrs. Morrison’s orchard.
    â€œHe wouldn’t have gone far,” Mrs. Morrison said when Michiko entered the kitchen, calling his name. “He hasn’t had lunch yet.” She wiped her hands on her apron and lifted Hannah from the carriage. The tiny dark-haired baby looked even smaller in Mrs. Morrison’s large, work-worn hands. “I know how to get his attention,” she suggested. “Just call him for lunch, and hungry Hiro will come.”
    Michiko smiled. Mrs. Morrison was right. In the orchard she yelled out, “Lunch time!”
    Two small bare legs dangled down from one of the lower tree branches. “Here I am,” Hiro called out. “I was watching my baby,” he said as he landed on the grass with a soft plump and pointed to the small black-and-white ball of fur nestled into one of Hannah’s blankets. “I found it in the barn.”
    Michiko looked down. There was only one kind of black-and-white furry animal that she knew, and they weren’t to be bothered. She backed up and looked around the field. Where there is a baby, there is a mother nearby. She had learned that with bears on the road last year. Michiko took her brother’s hand. “Let’s run,” she said.
    Her mother sat with Mrs. Morrison at the kitchen table, sipping tea from china cups.
    â€œThere was a baby skunk in your barn,” Michiko blurted out.
    â€œPardon me?” Mrs. Morrison said.
    â€œHiro picked it up and made a bed for it.”
    â€œThat’s odd,” Mrs. Morrison said. “Skunks don’t nest this close to town. Did you see it?”
    â€œNo, I just saw the baby. It’s a tiny black-and-white thing, curled up in a ball.”
    â€œDid you shut the barn door?” Eiko asked Hiro.
    Hiro gazed up and shook his head.
    Eiko looked at Mrs. Morrison. “If he left the door open, maybe it will wander away.”
    â€œNot if she’s got babies,” Mrs. Morrison said. “Mother skunk will be searching for it, and she will not be happy.” She put on her canvas gardening gloves, a pair of rubber boots, and picked up her stiff corn broom. “If I yell, break out the tomato juice.”
    Michiko looked at her mother and raised her brows, but her mother just smiled.
    No sooner had she left than Mrs. Morrison was back.
    â€œHiro,” she said as she stepped out of her boots, “show me where you put the baby cat.”
    â€œCat,” Michiko repeated. “It’s a cat?” She jumped from her chair, ran out the kitchen door to the foot of the apple tree, and scooped up the tiny kitten.
    In a shaft of afternoon sun the white cat prowled the earth floor of the barn, mewing.
    â€œHere,” she said, extending the small bundle to Mrs. Morrison.
    â€œJust put it down,” Mrs. Morrison said.
    â€œHere you are!” Michiko whispered as she lowered the tiny body to the floor. Completely black, except for its tail, the kitten had a small drop of white on its nose like a splash of milk. Three other kittens, all white, lay on a pile of newspapers inside the wooden box.
    The mother cat licked her baby from head to toe, and then, taking the scruff of its neck in her mouth, placed it next to its brothers and sisters.
    Michiko reached out to