The Hero Two Doors Down Read Online Free PDF

stood out there for what felt like forever without seeing anyone.
    Finally, Sena had to get back home. I knew my mom wouldn’t want me to be out there trying to see the Robinsons, so I headed home, too.
    This wait was driving me crazy! I kicked a small stone in frustration as I walked toward my stoop.
    â€œThere’s a moving truck outside the Robinsons’,” I reported as soon as I got inside and Mom shut the door.
    â€œI know, honey.”
    We sat in the kitchen snacking on crisp carrots and apple juice. I was antsy to get back outside and continue looking for our new neighbors. “Can I ride my bike?”
    â€œYou promised your father that you wouldn’t pester the Robinsons,” Mom reminded me.
    â€œI just want to make sure it’s them. That’s all,” I protested.
    â€œMove-in day is stressful. Give them space. Saturday, we can pick cherry blossoms and bring them over to Mr. and Mrs. Robinson. How does that sound?”
    â€œFine,” I muttered. “I’ll just sit on the stoop.”
    â€œYou may not leave the yard,” my mother told me.
    â€œI won’t.”
    I sat on the top step until the workmen brought the last piece of furniture into the house. I spotted Mrs. Robinson and her son once, but there was no sign of Jackie. I was being cool and staying at a safe distance from the Robinsons’ home. But I couldn’t guarantee how I’d react when Jackie appeared. My stomach was in knots. I almost cried when the moving van pulled away from the curb and Mom called me inside.
    Saturday morning, I was up before sunrise. I opened my bedroom window and stuck my head out. I stayed there until Mom pulled me back inside.
    â€œStephen,” she scolded. “How many times do I have to tell you not to lean out of the window?”
    â€œOh, Ma . . . I was just looking for Jackie.”
    â€œGet dressed. After breakfast, we’ll pick some cherry blossoms from the tree in our front yard and take them over to the Robinsons’ house.”
    I jumped into my mother’s arms, kissing her generously on both cheeks. She hugged me tight. “Thank you, Mom.”
    Chuckling, my mother reminded me that Jackie might still be traveling. “Try not to show your disappointment, Steve.”
    I looked up at her, wondering how to pull that off.

All this waiting to catch sight of Jackie was wearing on me. He’d been my favorite player since Dad announced that I was old enough to start listening to Dodgers games with him on the radio. That was on my eighth birthday last June, during Jackie’s rookie season. Dad said that would make me into a true Dodgers fan! Then maybe I could go see a game live at Ebbets Field.
    I’ll never forget it. It was a warm Brooklyn summer night. Mom agreed that Dad and I could have dinner on the stoop. She fixed us a picnic meal of fried chicken, French fries, salad, and Kool-Aid. We ate with the small transistor radio between our plates. Dad sat on the top step. I took my position just below his knees. We turned the radio up loud and I chewed softly. I didn’t dare talk.
    By the time the game got under way, the porches of our neighbors were filled with eager Dodgers fans. A few women were scattered in folding chairs, supervising as kids played on the sidewalk. Part of me wanted to play, but my father’s voice kept pulling me back to the game.
    â€œJackie Robinson is a rookie, Steve,” Dad said. “The Dodgers are in first place and drawing big crowds to Ebbets Field. Jackie’s got a lot to do with that. He’s batting over .300 and has four homers so far. He’s been hit six times by pitchers and been insulted plenty just because he’s a black man in a previously all-white game. Jackie hasn’t let the pressure get to him. The whole country knows about Brooklyn now. We’re special. That’s something to be proud of, son.”
    Dad stopped talking right when the announcer