All the Way Home
Autor Patricia Reilly Giffen Limba Engleză Paperback – 31 mar 2003 – vârsta de la 8 până la 12 ani
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Specificații
ISBN-13: 9780440411826
ISBN-10: 0440411823
Pagini: 169
Dimensiuni: 132 x 196 x 11 mm
Greutate: 0.13 kg
Editura: DELL YEARLING
ISBN-10: 0440411823
Pagini: 169
Dimensiuni: 132 x 196 x 11 mm
Greutate: 0.13 kg
Editura: DELL YEARLING
Extras
Brooklyn, 1941
1
Mariel
Outside, the milk truck rattled along Midwood Street, the horse clopping, the bottles vibrating in their cases. Mariel heard it in her dream, just on the edge of waking.
The dream began again: green lace curtains with the sun shining through, a fine morning; a soft voice reciting a nursery rhyme: When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. The voice stops. The rippling in Mariel's legs starts, her toes jerk.
It was only a dream, Mariel told herself, only a curtain and a nursery rhyme. It would hang over her all day, though, make her wish for her mother, wonder where her mother was, what had happened to her.
A quick picture flashed in Mariel's mind: a red sweater thrown over her mother's shoulders, her charm bracelet clinking, her cool hand on Mariel's forehead.
If only she could see her mother's face.
"Mariel?" a voice called from outside.
Squinting, she opened her eyes and looked out at the yard. The apple tree spread itself halfway to the bare board fence, almost hiding the row of houses in back. She loved that apple tree. Loretta, her almost mother, had put a small white fence around it so they'd stay out of its way when the two of them played baseball.
And Loretta was out there now, her hair tied up in a red kerchief. "Hey," she called. "Are you ever going to get up? Want to go to a game today? The Dodgers might just win the pennant this year."
Mariel thought of Geraldine Ginty, her enemy who lived across the street. Geraldine would say Loretta was razy cray, that the Dodgers hadn't won the pennant during her whole life. Bums, she called them.
Mariel could almost see the green diamond in Ebbets Field where someone would be mowing for today's Dodgers game. How lucky they were to live only a few blocks away. She slid her legs out from under the soft summer blanket and sat up, still remembering the dream.
Somehow it reminded her of Windy Hill and Good Samaritan Hospital, far away upstate, with the fountain outside and the rows of iron lungs inside.
She closed her eyes. Sirens screaming, sick to her stomach, legs rippling, jerking. Chest heavy. Someone saying: "Hold on, kiddo, another minute, almost there now. Breathe for me, will you? In and out, that's the way. Here we are. Never so glad to see those doors."
And someone else reaching out to pick up her doll for her.
"Don't touch it," the first voice said. "All her things will have to be burned, full of germs. Shame, such a little thing, can't be more than four years old. Polio."
Mariel stood up, her fingers fluttering. When the wind blows . . .
What did that nursery rhyme have to do with her mother?
Someday she was going back to Windy Hill.
Someday she was going to find out.
She leaned out the window. "Hold your horses," she called down to Loretta. "I'm on my way."
From the Hardcover edition.
1
Mariel
Outside, the milk truck rattled along Midwood Street, the horse clopping, the bottles vibrating in their cases. Mariel heard it in her dream, just on the edge of waking.
The dream began again: green lace curtains with the sun shining through, a fine morning; a soft voice reciting a nursery rhyme: When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. The voice stops. The rippling in Mariel's legs starts, her toes jerk.
It was only a dream, Mariel told herself, only a curtain and a nursery rhyme. It would hang over her all day, though, make her wish for her mother, wonder where her mother was, what had happened to her.
A quick picture flashed in Mariel's mind: a red sweater thrown over her mother's shoulders, her charm bracelet clinking, her cool hand on Mariel's forehead.
If only she could see her mother's face.
"Mariel?" a voice called from outside.
Squinting, she opened her eyes and looked out at the yard. The apple tree spread itself halfway to the bare board fence, almost hiding the row of houses in back. She loved that apple tree. Loretta, her almost mother, had put a small white fence around it so they'd stay out of its way when the two of them played baseball.
And Loretta was out there now, her hair tied up in a red kerchief. "Hey," she called. "Are you ever going to get up? Want to go to a game today? The Dodgers might just win the pennant this year."
Mariel thought of Geraldine Ginty, her enemy who lived across the street. Geraldine would say Loretta was razy cray, that the Dodgers hadn't won the pennant during her whole life. Bums, she called them.
Mariel could almost see the green diamond in Ebbets Field where someone would be mowing for today's Dodgers game. How lucky they were to live only a few blocks away. She slid her legs out from under the soft summer blanket and sat up, still remembering the dream.
Somehow it reminded her of Windy Hill and Good Samaritan Hospital, far away upstate, with the fountain outside and the rows of iron lungs inside.
She closed her eyes. Sirens screaming, sick to her stomach, legs rippling, jerking. Chest heavy. Someone saying: "Hold on, kiddo, another minute, almost there now. Breathe for me, will you? In and out, that's the way. Here we are. Never so glad to see those doors."
And someone else reaching out to pick up her doll for her.
"Don't touch it," the first voice said. "All her things will have to be burned, full of germs. Shame, such a little thing, can't be more than four years old. Polio."
Mariel stood up, her fingers fluttering. When the wind blows . . .
What did that nursery rhyme have to do with her mother?
Someday she was going back to Windy Hill.
Someday she was going to find out.
She leaned out the window. "Hold your horses," she called down to Loretta. "I'm on my way."
From the Hardcover edition.
Notă biografică
Patricia Reilly Giff is the author of many beloved books for children, including the Kids of the Polk Street School books, the Friends and Amigos books, and the Polka Dot Private Eye books. Her novels for middle-grade readers include The Gift of the Pirate Queen and Lily's Crossing, a Newbery Honor Book and a Boston Globe-Horn Book Honor Book. Nory Ryan's Song, her most recent book for Delacorte, was an ALA Notable Book and an ALA Best Book for Young Adults. Patricia Reilly Giff lives in Weston, Connecticut.
From the Hardcover edition.
From the Hardcover edition.
Descriere
From the author of the Newbery Honor Book "Lily's Crossing" comes this story of a city girl and a country boy, brought together in 1941 through their love of the Brooklyn Dodgers in a winning novel about the transforming power of friendship. Now available in paperback.
Premii
- Massachusetts Children's Book Award Nominee, 2005