Sam put the dishes on the counter. “Joyce, can you get our coats? We can go after we do the washing up.”
I rolled over the wardrobe and pulled out our coats.
Phyllis rinsed the last plate, and we were ready to go.
“Bye, Ma,” I called out as Sam pushed me out the kitchen door.
“Where should we go?” Phyllis asked.
“Let’s go to Mister Badderly’s house and see if we can find those papers for Sam or a sign of where he went,” I said.
“That sounds rather dangerous,” Sam said.
“You can be the lookout,” Phyllis said.
Sam pushed me down the bumpy road. Phyllis skipped along beside me, trying to keep up.
“Look!” Phyllis said. “Mister Badderly’s front door is wide open.”
Sam stopped in his tracks. He jammed his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want to get caught.” His breath became choppy. “If Mister Badderly’s there…he might give it to me.”
“You stay behind the woodpile, Sam,” Phyllis said. “I’ll roll Joyce to the window, so we can see inside.”
Sam zipped over to the wood pile and ducked out of sight.
Phyllis pushed me to the closest window. I lifted myself up and balanced on my good leg.
Al and Jim were tossing things around the sitting room and shouting at each other.
“Can you tell what they’re saying?”
Phyllis put her ear on the window. “They’re saying something about a metal box and money,” she said. “Wait! They’re talking about a tuck box. Do you think Sam knows where it is?”
I sat back down, and Phyllis pushed me to the wood pile.
“Do you know anything about Mister Badderly’s tuck box?” I sure hoped he did. If he did and we would try to find it. It would give us power over them. Perhaps we would be able to negotiate Sam’s freedom.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
September 24, 1940
3:00 PM
Sam bit his bottom lip. His eyes went all wonky.
“I…I…I think it’s in the cellar,” he said.
“Phyllis, could you slide in the cellar window and search for it? I can’t do it,” I said.
“Cor, let’s get Molly to help us?” Sam’s voice wavered. “We’d be much safer if there are more of us.”
“I’ll get Molly…,” Phyllis said. “You two stay hidden until we get back.”
Sam and I hid behind the wood pile and waited. It didn’t take Phyllis and Molly long to get back.
“Why don’t you stay with Sam, Molly? I’ll be the lookout for Phyllis,” I said. “I can watch Al and Jim and alert Phyllis if it I think they’re going to the cellar.”
Sam untucked his shirt and began twisting the shirttail.
“If it’s going to be a sticky bish, I’ll whistle three times, and you two run for help,” I said.
Sam grunted and went back to his hiding place. Molly and Phyllis rolled me back to the window.
“Phyllis, can you get through the window?” Molly whispered.
Phyllis nodded.
“Molly, when I whistle one long whistle come help me pull Phyllis back out,” I whispered.
“Right,” Molly whispered. “I’ll get back to Sam now, he’s very distressed.”
I pushed myself up again and spotted Al and Jim. I put my finger to my lips and nodded at Phyllis.
She carefully opened the cellar window. It creaked, and she froze. I ducked and listened. Al and Jim kept on ranting and raving, so I nodded to Phyllis. She propped open the window and slid inside.
Sweat formed on my neck. Why did I send Phyllis in there? If something happened to her, I would have to tell Ma. It’d be my fault for putting her in danger.
Phyllis hadn’t been gone long when her hand emerged from the window. She slid an old rusty metal box onto the ground.
“I can’t get back out,” she whispered. “You’re going to have to get help.”
I lowered myself to the ground and pulled myself to over to her.
“I’ll whistle to Molly, and we’ll cause a distraction, so you can sneak upstairs and out the back door.”
“All right, but hurry. I’m scared,” she whispered.
I blew a long slow whistle.
Molly left Sam in his hiding spot. “Why are you on the ground?”
“I couldn’t wheel myself over here,” I said. “Phyllis is in trouble. We have to distract Al and Jim.”
Molly rolled my wheelchair over and helped me back in it. “Is that the box they’re looking for?” She picked up the rusty box and wiggled open the lid.
“I think it is,” I said.
Inside the box were neatly stacked piles of ten-pound notes. I took out one stack, and Molly hid the box in the tall weeds.
“I know how we are going to distract them. Can you push me to the front door, and I’ll talk to Al?” I said.
Molly pushed me to the front door, and I held on tightly to what might help solve at least two of our problems.
I erected myself, pushed my shoulders back and cleared my throat. “Will you knock on the door, Molly? Knock on it like you’re angry.”
Molly banged on the door.
Al opened it.
“Al,” I said using my firmest voice. “I have something you might be interested in. I’ll give it to you, but…only if you’re willing to make a deal with me.”
Al stepped outside and closed the door. “I’m always open to a bargain,” he said.
“We have what you’re looking for.” I held up the wad of money.
My breathing grew loud. Molly jolted my wheelchair, and I regained my composure.
“I need the papers Mister Badderly has regarding Sam.” I swallowed. “If you give them to me, I’ll give you this plus a whole lot more.”
I held the money close to my body so he couldn’t snatch it. He leaned forward, and I slipped the money behind my back. “You can have it when you get me those papers.”
“I have an idea of where those papers might be, Lassie,” he said. “If I give them to you, Jim and I will disappear with that box. But we don’t want no problems with the coppers.”
I rubbed my leg with my free hand. “It’ll be an even exchange. You go your way, and we’ll go ours.”
“It’s a done deal,” Al said.
He went back in the house. We heard him and Jim having another row, but he came out and handed me a stack of papers.
I thumbed through them and saw Sam Nurdy written on several papers.
“The rest of the money is in the weeds by the side window. You get it and leave first so we can watch you go.”
“We’ll be quite ‘appy to leave,” moaned Jim. “You blasted children better be out of our business for good now.”
Molly backed me up a few steps.
“We will be,” I said, “as long as you stay away from us.”
Jim sneered at me. Al nodded his head and tipped his hat. They left with nothing but the box of money.
All the air left my body and I sunk back into my chair.
“I’ll get Sam,” Molly said.
I banged on the door and called out to Phyllis. She came bounding out the door.
“I heard everything,” she said. “Sam’s free now!”
Sam and Molly rushed back, and we had a group cuddle.
I raised my arm in the air and said, “Long live the four musketeers!”
Sam, Molly, and Phyllis cheered, “Hip Hip
Hooray! Hip Hip Hooray!”
The End of the Beginning
About the Author
Sharon K. Mayhew, born in England, immigrated to The United States when she was eight. She spent seventeen years teaching third and fourth graders to read and write. Keep Calm And Carry On, Children is inspired by her ninety-eight-year-old grandfather’s life. During World War II his parents took in two evacuees from London. Sharon currently resides with her family in Missouri. You can find out more about her by visiting http://skmayhew.blogspot.com/.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Word-of-mouth is crucial for any author to succeed. If you enjoyed the book, please leave a review online—anywhere you are able. Even if it’s just a sentence or two. It would make all the difference and would be very much appreciated.
Thanks!
Sharon
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