Under a Red Sky Read Online Free PDF Page A

anger as she starts walking me home, her grip hurting my arm. Grandpa’s feet are shuffling behind. When we get back, Grandma Iulia and Sabina are both waiting by the door with worried faces. Mama pushes me into the bathroom and says, “Go wash your face and hands. It’s past three o’clock. You must be starving.”
    The water feels cool on my cheeks. I dry my hands and then go into the dining room. The table hasn’t been set. That’s my job. I set the table and go back to our room, where I find Mama waiting. She’s sitting so straight on the edge of her bed, it looks as if she just swallowed a stick. Her posture is exactly the way she said mine ought to be in order to walk properly, except Mama is sitting.

    â€œI never, ever want this to happen again,” she starts. “Do you understand?” she asks, holding my chin and making me look into her eyes. I nod, deciding not to cry. “I thought I made it clear that you are not to go to the park without an adult. I don’t want to have to worry about your safety. Do you understand?” I nod again, but Mama doesn’t see me. “Isn’t it bad enough that even adults nowadays can’t go for a walk in the park without being afraid to have a simple conversation overheard?” She is half talking to herself and keeps asking, “Do you understand me?” over and over. Then, as if seeing my face for the first time, she gives up. “Let’s go and have lunch,” she says, getting up.
    Everyone is already seated at the dining room table except for Tata, who’s still off filming somewhere. The room is completely silent. I can sense their eyes following me as I walk around to my chair, which is between Mama’s and Grandpa’s seats. Grandpa pulls my chair out and places two large phone books on it so that I can reach the table comfortably. The chair makes a scraping sound as Grandpa pushes it forward. “Sabina,” Grandma calls from the head of the table, “please bring in the soup.”
    I love the smell of the vegetable soup as the steam rises from my bowl. Grandpa Yosef breaks off the end of the baguette and hands it to me. The crusty end is my favorite part. I dunk the crust into my soup and let it soak up the delicious broth. We all sip in silence, our spoons clicking against the porcelain bowls. Grandpa slurps his broth with great satisfaction. There is a sense of relief in the room as Sabina gathers the bowls and then comes back from the kitchen with a platter of steaming frankfurters and a cauliflower casserole dish.

    â€œWhere’s my knife?” Uncle Max asks.
    Aunt Puica tells him, “Take mine,” then stops abruptly. “I don’t have a knife either.” She looks bewildered at the empty spot next to her plate. I pick up a frankfurter with two fingers and bite into it. They all stare at me.
    â€œEva, did you forget to set the knives?” Grandma Iulia demands.
    I shrug and keep nibbling at my frankfurter.
    â€œSabina,” Grandma Iulia says, “go get some knives please.”
    Sabina pulls out the sideboard drawer, searching for the knives. “Madam,” she says, “the knives are all gone.”
    There’s lots of commotion as everyone gets up from the table in search of the missing knives. I stay in my seat and keep nibbling.
    Aunt Puica’s puzzled voice drifts in from the kitchen. “They’re not in here either.”
    â€œWhere have all the knives gone?” Uncle Max’s question hangs in the air.
    â€œEva, do you know?” Grandpa Yosef ’s voice is gentle. I nod, still playing with my food. “Show me,” Grandpa says. I slide off the phone books and walk to the sideboard. I open the doors to the shelves where our table linens are stored. I take out a tablecloth heavy with the hidden silverware and place it on top of the sideboard. Grandpa unfolds it, revealing all of our knives tucked in its