Diamond Willow

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by Helen Frost

he suffocated to death

  before his mom found him.

  I shivered.

  The boat?

  I might be tall enough

  to climb in

  if I stepped up on the trailer.

  But I didn’t dare move.

  11

  I don’t know how long

  I stood there

  in my pink dress,

  mostly hidden

  behind the freezer.

  12

  A light came on. A door opened.

  I stopped breathing.

  From another room, I heard

  happy voices—

  real people or on a TV?

  It was a TV—this was someone’s house.

  The man came out,

  opened the car door, closed it,

  went back inside.

  I was pretty sure

  he didn’t look

  over at me.

  13

  I had to do something.

  I ran to the boat

  and climbed in.

  It was full of fishing stuff:

  nets and ropes

  a tackle box

  fishing poles

  a rusty coffee can.

  A blue cloth, partly stretched

  over the boat—

  could I hide under that?

  At the boat’s pointed end, a triangular place,

  like a little cave—I just fit.

  A gray rag?

  No—an old sweatshirt

  wadded up on the floor of the boat.

  I put it on—it covered my dress.

  Yes,

  I could hide in the boat

  for a while.

  14

  I was hungry. Mom always said,

  Eat something, Wren. It helps you think.

  I unwrapped the granola bar, took one bite.

  One more. Another.

  I tried to think.

  Could I open the garage door?

  If it was something to lift—could I lift it?

  What if you had to know certain numbers to push?

  If the door opened, he’d hear me.

  Sooner or later, he’d leave the house. He had to.

  Did anyone live there with him?

  The dog barked louder.

  It was outside, but not far away.

  Had anyone fed it?

  Through the windows in the garage door,

  the sky

  got darker and darker.

  15

  Someone turned on a light

  and opened the door from the house.

  I thought I heard something out here.

  (A girl’s voice?)

  I didn’t move, curled up in the boat,

  clutching Kamara so hard

  I thought she might break.

  The man again, from inside:

  Shut that door! Stay out of there!

  You heard me—I SAID—

  The light went off. The door slammed shut.

  It sounded like somebody banged up against it.

  The girl yelled, Ow! Quit it! That hurt!

  Then it got quiet.

  After that,

  for a long time,

  nothing happened.

  16

  The garage door went up.

  The light came on.

  Somewhere outside, a car door opened and closed.

  I heard someone

  walk through the garage

  and open the door to the house.

  A woman’s voice: What’s this car doing here?

  The man: How many times do I have to tell you—

  stay out of my business.

  The woman: You keep a stolen car in our garage,

  it’s my business.

  The light went off.

  The garage door closed.

  The other door slammed.

  I heard shouting inside the house.

  I couldn’t hear words,

  but the man’s voice was loud

  and mean.

  17

  I was shaking.

  Trying hard not to cry.

  How could I sleep

  in the crowded boat?

  I was thirsty.

  Hungry.

  I had to pee.

  18

  The light came on. The door from the house flew open.

  The woman: This is the car they’re searching for!

  What happened

  to Wren Abbott?

  A voice on TV: Once again,

  the child is eight years old.

  Last seen wearing a pink dress,

  with matching beads in her hair.

  She may be holding a doll

  she calls Kamara.

  If you have any information

  please call—

  19

  The TV cut off.

  The man: Nothing to do with me!

  You think I’m some kind of pervert,

  taking a little kid?

  (What’s a pervert?)

  The woman: Of course not. But, West,

  did you check the backseat

  when you got in the car?

  (The man’s name is West.)

  West: No! There wasn’t time!

  None of this worked like we planned, Stacey.

  No one was going to get shot.

  (Who got shot?)

  (The woman is Stacey.)

  I heard the car doors—opening, closing.

  Stacey: She’s not in the car.

  Where is she?

  West: Maybe she got out when I stopped

  in the parking lot—I took a few minutes

  to take the plate off another car

  and put it on this one.

  (That time he stopped—could I have jumped out?)

  Stacey: If she was lost in a parking lot,

  someone would have found her by now.

  They’ve been searching for more than six hours!

  West: They can keep searching.

  Tomorrow, we paint the car.

  We ditch it.

  Nothing to pin on me.

  Stacey: West—this girl is Darra’s age!

  We can call from a pay phone—anonymously—

  tell them Wren Abbott is not in the car they’re searching for.

  At least we know that much!

  (The girl is Darra.)

  West: We know NOTHING. You hear me?

  Stacey: Let go of me!

  I’d never heard

  the sound of one person hitting another,

  but I knew

  that was what happened.

  Stacey stopped talking.

  Started crying.

  The door slammed again.

  More yelling. Crashing sounds.

  Silence.

  20

  The door opened.

  Darra’s voice:

  Stay out here tonight.

  He won’t hurt you if you stay out of his way.

  I bet you’re hungry. Here’s some food and water.

  The door closed.

  (Who was she talking to?

  Does she know I’m here?)

  Someone (Darra?) was in the garage.

  Moving around …

  coming closer …

  Right in the boat with me!

  I yelped! I couldn’t help it.

  Yeeooowww.

  A cat!

  Scratching my face. Barely missing my eye.

  We looked at each other.

  Carefully, I reached out to pet it.

  After a while, we both calmed down.

  It curled up in my arms and purred.

  Also by Helen Frost

  Keesha’s House

  Spinning Through the Universe

  The Braid

  Crossing Stones

  Hidden

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Helen Frost is the author of several books for young people, including Hidden, Diamond Willow, Crossing Stones, The Braid, and Keesha’s House, selected an Honor Book for the M
ichael L. Printz Award. Helen Frost was born in 1949 in South Dakota, the fifth of ten children. She recalls the summer her family moved from South Dakota to Oregon, traveling in a big trailer and camping in places like the Badlands and Yellowstone. Her father told the family stories before they went to sleep, and Helen would dream about their travels, her family, and their old house. “That’s how I became a writer,” she says. “I didn’t know it at the time, but all those things were accumulating somewhere inside me.” As a child, she loved to travel, think, swim, sing, learn, canoe, write, argue, sew, play the piano, play softball, play with dolls, daydream, read, go fishing, and climb trees. Now, when she sits down to write, her own experiences become the details of her stories. Helen has lived in South Dakota, Oregon, Massachusetts, New York, Vermont, Scotland, Colorado, Alaska, California, and Indiana. She currently lives in Fort Wayne, Indiana, with her family. You can sign up for email updates here.

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Author’s Note

  Begin Reading

  Acknowledgments

  A Conversation with Helen Frost

  Discussion Questions

  Writing Ideas

  Things You Might Like

  Hidden Teaser

  Also by Helen Frost

  About the Author

  Copyright

  An Imprint of Macmillan

  DIAMOND WILLOW. Copyright © 2008 by Helen Frost. All rights reserved. For information, address Square Fish, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.

  Square Fish and the Square Fish logo are trademarks of Macmillan and are used by Farrar Straus Giroux under license from Macmillan.

  Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].

  Originally published in the United States by Frances Foster Books, an imprint of

  Farrar Straus Giroux

  First Square Fish Edition: May 2011

  Square Fish logo designed by Filomena Tuosto

  mackids.com

  eISBN 9781466896345

  First eBook edition: July 2016

 

 

 


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