The Lights Go On Again (14 page)

“There's Murray's,” pointed out Gavin. He ran ahead to catch up with the others.

“Is anyone hungry?” Grandad asked when he reached them.

“I am!” cried Tim.

They went inside and each had a milkshake and as many doughnuts as he wished. Tim managed four.

Gavin was surprised at how easily shy Roger talked to Grandad. He began telling him about his father. “He might be home next week! Mum has all his favourite food ready for him.”

“And you haven't seen him since you were seven?” said Grandad. “Do you remember him?”

“Of course I do!” said Roger. “The week before he left he taught me how to play chess. Every time he writes he says I'll probably beat him in our first game.” Roger stopped eating and sat in a happy daze. Gavin had never seen him look so carefree.

He sipped his milkshake jealously. Lucky Roger. He had a father and he sounded nice. Tim's father was nice, too. He always had time to throw a ball with Tim and his brothers.

Would he have remembered
his
father when he finally saw him in person? But it was too late to wonder about that now. His father was dead. All he had was this grandfather who had tried to yank him away from a family and a place he loved.

“Your grandfather's swell!” whispered Tim on the way home. “He said he'd send me a piece of shrapnel when he gets back! You must feel real sad that he's leaving soon.”

Gavin shrugged. “Hey, wasn't it great when Francie and Neeley got the Christmas tree?”

G
RANDAD KEPT ON TRYING
to make friends with Gavin. He invited him into the study, but Gavin stayed there for as short a time as possible, then made up an excuse to leave. Still, he took Gavin to the museum and to Casa Loma.

“No wonder you like this city,” he said. “It's so clean and modern. You should see London—it's a mess of bombed-out buildings. I wish I had time to see some of the rest of Canada. You and Norah are lucky children. You've been west and to Montreal and a cottage in the north every summer.”

The worst part of spending time with Grandad was that he went on and on about Ringden and the family there. He seemed to expect Gavin to know about things like cricket and pig clubs. “Muriel and Barry's house is only a few minutes away from Little Whitebull,” he told Gavin. He chuckled. “Your nephew Richard is a real bruiser. He looks like his Dad but he has the Loggin stubbornness. Like Janie and Norah—like me! When Richard doesn't want to eat something he clamps his lips closed.”

Gavin grunted a reply. Why would he be interested in a baby?

“Do you remember your friend Joey?” continued Grandad.

Gavin shook his head impatiently.

“You and he were inseparable. He's a bit of limb, Joey is. Just before I left he got into a lot of trouble for breaking a window in Mrs. Chandler's house.”

“I don't remember him,” Gavin repeated.

Often Grandad gave him a sad, pleading look. Then he'd say
sneaky
things. “Ringden's a great place for young ones. You can run wild there—hardly any cars and lots of woods to play in. And there's always Gilden to go to for the pictures. When our house is rebuilt I was thinking we could get ourselves a dog. Joey's mother has a pointer cross who's expecting pups.”

Grandad was trying to bribe him! And he'd
never
have a dog that wasn't a springer spaniel.

He can't make me change my mind, Gavin thought. Grandad wasn't the only one who could be stubborn.

Gavin developed a hacking cough that wouldn't go away. He felt well enough, but he sounded terrible. Aunt Florence made him stay in bed for two days. As always when he was sick, she brought him special food and new toys and read to him for hours.

“How are you feeling?” Grandad stood at his door on the morning of the second day.

Gavin made himself cough weakly. “All right, I guess.”

“This is quite a room you have,” said Grandad. He came in and glanced at all of Gavin's stuff. “English kids haven't been able to get toys for quite a while.”

Was that
his
fault? He wished Grandad would leave; this was the first time he'd ventured into the one place Gavin could escape from him.

“You don't seem very sick to me,” said Grandad quietly. “These women coddle you too much.”

Gavin glared at him. “I
am
sick! The doctor said so.”

Grandad just raised his bushy eyebrows. He dropped a new comic on the foot of Gavin's bed and left without a word.

13

Mick's Plan

T
he social worker phoned and said Norah could sail on a ship that left on July 13. Grandad would have to pay his own way, but there was space for him also.

“But that's only four weeks away!” cried Aunt Mary. “Oh, Norah, I can't bear it …” She stifled a sob.

“Now, Mary, we knew it would be short notice,” said Aunt Florence. “I certainly don't want you to leave so soon, Norah, but who knows when another sailing will be available? And Dulcie and Lucy are going on the same ship—that will be pleasant for you.”

“I'm sorry it's so soon too—but it's what we planned,” said Norah. Her eyes shone with excitement but she avoided looking at Gavin.

“I'm going to have a large farewell party for you,” said Aunt Florence grandly. “You can ask whomever you like—your whole class, if you want!”

“Really?” Aunt Florence didn't approve of many of the teen-agers in Norah's class. “
Thank
you!” Norah looked daringly at her guardian. “Can we roll up the rug for dancing?”

“I suppose so,” smiled Aunt Florence. “But leave sitting space for the adults.”

She and Aunt Mary began to pack a trunk for Norah. Every day Aunt Florence brought something home for her. “I want you to be the best-dressed girl in Ringden.” Norah didn't even object that she hadn't picked out the new clothes herself. Gavin was amazed that she and Aunt Florence, now that they were parting, were suddenly so easy with each other.

Aunt Florence hardly paid any attention to Gavin—as if she were putting him off until later. Gavin knew he should be spending as much time as he could with his sister; he wouldn't see her for a long time. But he still couldn't talk to her. And all Norah seemed able to do was to give him the same yearning looks that Grandad did. Gavin kept on avoiding both of them.

His relief at staying in Canada had turned sour. Guilt gnawed at him constantly, as if he had a small wild animal living inside him. He tried to reason the guilt away. If he left he'd make five people miserable—Aunt Florence, Aunt Mary, Hanny, Tim and Roger. Not to mention Bosley. By staying he was only hurting Norah and Grandad. And surely after they left this guilt would disappear. Aunt Florence would focus on him again and he'd be safe.

The reasoning didn't work. He skulked around home and school like a criminal.

“What's eating
you
?” complained Tim, when Gavin snapped at him for accidentally ramming into his bike.

“Quit worrying, Gav,” smiled Roger. “He didn't even scratch it.”

Roger was blissful these days. His father was back and every afternoon Roger ran home to play chess with him. And Tim had just got a dollar in birthday money. He had endless, gloating discussions about what he'd buy with it.

Gavin scowled at his friends. Why did they have to be so cheerful?

“I get to go on a shi-ip, and you do-on't!” taunted Lucy one morning in the schoolyard.

“I don't
want
to go,” retorted Gavin. “I'd rather stay in Canada.”

“But you're English, not Canadian!” said Lucy. “The Milnes don't think it's right that Mrs. Ogilvie is keeping you here.”

“She's not keeping me! I
chose
to stay!”

“Well, I think you should come back with us. We all came over together—we should leave together, too. I can hardly wait to see my family.” She looked at Gavin curiously. “Of course, it's different for you when your parents aren't there any more. But don't you want to see Ringden again?”

“Just leave me alone!” Gavin turned his back on her, only to face Eleanor.

“I'm having a birthday party this Sunday, Gavin,” she said. “Would you like to come?”

“I don't go to parties with girls,” he answered stiffly.

“Then don't come!” She flounced away.

Why had he said that?
It was as if someone else had said it.

Then he found out that Eleanor had asked Tim and Roger too. They pretended to be scornful but Gavin could tell they were pleased. Only six boys, including Gavin, had been invited. It was the first mixed party in grade five.

“
I
wouldn't go to a sissy girls' party,” Gavin told his friends at recess. Maybe he could change their minds.

“I'm only going because Tim's going,” Roger protested.

“And I'm only going because Eleanor's mother is such a great cook!” said Tim. “Remember that cake she brought last year?”

“You're going because you're
sissies,
” pronounced Gavin. “A musketeer wouldn't go.”

Roger turned pale. “If you feel like that, maybe we shouldn't be blood brothers any more. Right, Tim?”

“Right!” muttered Tim. There were hurt tears in his eyes. The two of them left Gavin standing alone.

He kicked at the dirt.
Now
what had he done? In only a few minutes he had alienated his best friends.

I don't care, he told himself.

“Hey, Stoakes.” Mick was slouched by the bike stand, watching him. “Come over here.”

Mick was back to his cruel self these days; Doris had laughed at him in front of her friends. Once again, everyone stayed out of his way.

But Gavin made his feet walk over. He met Mick's eyes and tried to sound cool. “Yeah?”

Mick's ugly mouth sneered. “Wanna make a few fast bucks?”

“How?”

“I have a plan, but I need someone to help me with it. If you do I'll give you a share of the profits.”

“What is it?” whispered Gavin.

“Meet me here after school and I'll tell you.”

F
OR THE REST
of the day Gavin wondered if he would. Mrs. Moss scolded him for forgetting his blackboard monitor duties. When he said sullenly, “It wasn't just
my
fault. Marit forgot too,” she frowned at him. “That's not like you, Gavin. You know Marit was sick for half the week.” Gavin almost wished she'd keep him after school so he wouldn't have to meet Mick, but she just looked disappointed and told him to fill the inkwells.

When he came to Eleanor's desk she deliberately shoved his arm. Blue ink splattered over the desk, Gavin and Eleanor, and the floor. The class snickered.

Then Mrs. Moss was really cross. “Gavin! What's wrong with you this week?”

“It was Eleanor's fault,” Gavin tried to tell her, but she made him get a wet rag from the janitor and clean up every spot.

By tattling on both Marit and Eleanor, Gavin had broken the most sacred class rule. For the rest of the day no one spoke to him. He remembered when the class had acted like this towards snooty Colin. Now he knew how Colin must have felt. Hurt.
Angry
.

If no one in 5A liked him any more, then he might as well do what Mick wanted.

After school he waited by his bike, watching Tim and Roger get on theirs and ride away without a word. All the other bicycles were gone by the time Mick appeared.

His leering face actually looked pleased. “So you came. I had to write stupid lines, or I would have been here sooner. Follow me. I'll explain on the way.”

Gavin didn't dare ask where they were going. He walked his bike and tried to keep pace with Mick's long legs. He hoped no one noticed him. And he hoped that this wouldn't take too long. He was supposed to report home first before he went anywhere after school, and it was already late.

“Okay, here's the deal.” Gavin had to strain to hear Mick's low voice. “You know Sullivan's Hardware on Yonge Street?”

“Uh-huh.”

“There's an old dame who works in there. I want you to go and chat her up while I look over the goods.”

“What do you mean?” asked Gavin.

Mick looked impatient. “Women
like
kids like you, Stoakes. They think you're cute. So go in there and talk to her. Ask her for something and get her into a long conversation. In the meantime I'll stash one of those expensive fishing reels in my pocket. Don't stop talking until after I've left the store. Then just go home. I'll sell the reel—I know a guy who'll buy it—and I'll give you, say, a third of the price, okay?”

Gavin stopped walking. “But that's stealing!”

Mick glared at him. “
Yes,
Mister Goody-Goody, it's stealing. But I'm the one who's doing it, so you don't have to worry your pretty head about it. All you have to do is sweet-talk the lady for a few minutes and you'll get some cash.” He sniggered. “After all, I sort of owe you, don't I?”

Was he right? Was it only Mick who would be stealing? Gavin
pretended
he was right. A sick kind of excitement filled him, replacing the guilt.

Why not do something wrong for a change? Everyone—Aunt Florence, Aunt Mary, Mrs. Moss—thought Gavin was good. But he wasn't. He was letting his sister go away without him.

He reminded himself of what Mick had done to Roger. But a reckless voice inside him said, “I don't care.”

“So, do you have enough guts to do it?” asked Mick. “Or are you as yellow as you look…?”

“I'll do it,” said Gavin quickly.

Mick slapped him on the back and looked friendly again. “Good for you, Stoakes!”

“But what if you get caught?”

“I've
never
been caught,” boasted Mick, making Gavin wonder how many other times he had stolen something. “But if I am, just pretend you weren't with me. I'm the one who's taking the risk.
You
have nothing to lose.”