Time for Andrew Read Online Free PDF Page B

leaning against the door frame and gasping for air. The rasping sound of his breath made me shudder. At any moment I expected him to collapse, to die all over again before my eyes.

    "You can't be alive," I whispered, "you can't—it's impossible."
    "Do I look as bad as that?" Andrew came back to the bed and sat on the edge, close enough for me to see the fear in his eyes. "Dr. Fulton told Mama I was like to die before morning, but he saved me from blood poisoning last year and measles the year before that, and croup and whooping cough as well. Hannah lived through diphtheria. She says I will too."
    He smiled uncertainly. "I hope Hannah is right, but the truth is I feel very weak. And cold. I should be in bed. If you don't let me under the covers, you'll surely be the death of me."
    When Andrew reached for the quilt once more, I pulled it over my head. I didn't want to see his face again. I had to make him leave, I couldn't stand it anymore. "The cold can't hurt you," I cried. "Nothing can. You're already dead! Go back to your grave, rest in peace, let me be!"
    Andrew yanked the covers away and forced me to look at him. "That's a wicked lie," he gasped. "If I'd died, I'd know it, I'd remember. Surely death is too powerful a thing to miss altogether."
    The doubt in his voice made me braver. Switching on the lamp beside the bed, I cried, "Look, just look. Is this your room?"
    Half-blinded, Andrew crouched at the foot of the bed and shielded his eyes from the brilliant electric light. When he finally lowered his hands, he gazed around the room,
taking in my posters, my running shoes, my jeans draped over the rocker, the radio. "Where are my pictures, my books?" he whispered. "What have you done with my things?"

    "Great-grandfather got rid of them years ago." My voice shook with the power of truth. Harsh truth. Cruel truth. I was frightening Andrew, but I had to make him see this wasn't his house anymore. No matter what he thought, he couldn't stay here.
    Andrew shook his head, still unconvinced. Ignoring his tears, I pointed to the calendar hanging above the bookcase. "See what year it is?"
    He got to his feet and tottered across the room for a closer look. "No," he said, "no, that can't be right. It's 1910, I'm twelve years old, I have my whole life ahead of me."
    Fighting fear and pity, I watched him press his hand to his chest. Before I realized what he was doing, he was back at the bed, grabbing my hand and holding it against his left side. "Feel that?" he whispered. "I can't be dead."
    Under my palm, Andrew's heart pounded rapidly against his ribs. His skin was warm, his flesh solid over his bones. On the wall beside the bed, his shadow merged with mine.
    I jerked my hand away, frightened by the living feel of him. Nothing made sense. Ghosts were transparent, insubstantial, they didn't cast shadows, they didn't have beating hearts.
    For a moment, neither of us spoke. We sat on the bed staring at each other.
    Andrew finally said, "I don't understand. If you, if I, if we both..." His words trailed away in confusion. Even though the room was warm, he shivered.
    My thoughts were muddled too, but I knew one thing
for sure. No matter how badly I wanted to be rid of Andrew, I'd brought him here. If I let him return to the past, he'd die. But he wouldn't be gone. Every time I passed a mirror, I'd see his face. Every time I spoke, I'd hear his voice. His ghost would haunt me forever.

    Whether Andrew realized it or not, it wasn't his marbles he'd come for. It was his life.

Chapter 6
    The room was so quiet I could hear Andrew's breath rattle in his chest. There was no other sound. The hall clock was silent. The curtains hung motionless at the window. Not a car, not a truck, not a plane disturbed the silence.

    "How did I come here?" Andrew asked. "How do I go back?" He sat as still as stone, his eyes fixed on my face, waiting for me to explain.
    "It's got something to do with the marbles," I said uncertainly. "Why did you hide