Going to Chicago Read Online Free PDF Page A

house or follow us to the car. She hovered in between, worried arms wrapped tight around her waist. “I’m sure Mrs. Gilbert doesn’t want Ace missing church.”
    Will assured her we’d be home at 7:15 Saturday evening. Seven-thirty at the very latest.
    â€œMake sure you are.”
    â€œWe’ll be here,” Will said.
    â€œAnd remember Clyde starts back to school on Monday. I want him rested. Eighth grade ain’t a piece of cake.”
    â€œHe’ll be rested,” Will said. He put his box of groceries in the backseat and produced his camera from the front seat. “Come take a bon voyage picture with us, mother.”

“ I saw friends of mine—men I had been to school with—digging ditches and laying sewer pipe. They were wearing their regular business suits as they worked because they couldn’t afford overalls and rubber boots .”
    F RANK W ALKER , HEAD OF P RESIDENT
    R OOSEVELT ’ S N ATIONAL E MERGENCY C OUNCIL
    Four/Killing the Corners
    Will stood his mother alongside the Gilbert SXIII. Clyde got on one side of her, Will on the other. I took the picture. Then Will took a picture of Clyde and me with Mrs. Randall. Then Clyde took a sideways picture of Will and me with their mother. Finally Will showed his mother how to work the camera. This time Clyde was in the middle. We all waved. “The official photograph of the Three Travelers,” Will said through his frozen smile.
    It was finally time to kill the Corners. Clyde climbed in the back. Will climbed over the tent strapped to the running board and sat down in the copilot’s seat. He opened his spiral notebook in his lap and unfolded an Ohio map over that. He was ready.
    I pulled on my aviator’s cap and headed for the crank.
    The sight of her boys seated in the Gilbert SXIII ready to fly to Chicago thawed Mrs. Randall to remorse. “I should’ve put my foot down and said you couldn’t go,” she said. “It’s not right for them to spend all those millions on that fancy World’s Fair nonsense when there’s so many people living in the streets and eating stray cats.”
    Will slid down in the seat and let his lungs empty. “Nobody’s eating stray cats, mother.”
    â€œWell, it’s still a sin wasting money like that.”
    â€œThese times won’t last forever,” Will said. “It’s time to start thinking about the glorious future.”
    Mrs. Randall folded her arms around her waist. She knew he was right. “Keep your money hidden in your underwear,” she said. “The road’s teeming with bums and lowlifes.”
    I yanked the crank and the Gilbert SXIII purred again like a bushel of cats. I jumped inside. Got my feet ready on the pedals. Mrs. Randall’s arms wrapped tighter. The moment had come. “We’re gonna be fine,” Will said to his mother.
    â€œI know it,” she said.
    Will’s face begin to shine like the head of a six-battery flashlight. “Well, fellas. Time to kill this place.”
    His mother took a backward step toward the house. “Tell your Aunt Mary I’ll write as soon as I can. And don’t you dare tell her I made kitchen rags from that ugly red apron she made me for Christmas.”
    â€œI won’t,” said Will.
    â€œMe neither,” said Clyde.
    I throttled up and slipped the gear into low speed. We started to roll. “See you in five days,” Will yelled.
    â€œYou got your medicine?” Mrs. Randall yelled.
    â€œI got it,” Clyde yelled.
    â€œMake sure he uses it,” she yelled at Will.
    â€œI will,” yelled Will.
    â€œAce, you make sure, too.”
    â€œAbsolutely,” I yelled.
    We bounced down the field and took a left on Townline Road. We passed the garage and turned left on Hunt Road. It was one of the six roads that angled into Bennett’s Corners. We passed the Dapplemier farm and flew in a northwesterly