Thank you, DianaB17, for showing interest in this story.

Here's the next chapter.

-Scarlet

Chapter 3: Secret

"I don't like it. It's like they're hiding something."

Edward nodded sharply. "I know. I got that feeling, too."

We traveling down the sidewalk, away from our home, neither of us feeling very much like volunteering at the local Relief Billet for a scrap assignment. Since our nation was in a state of war, weekly collections of scrap metal were gathered for manufacturing bullets and guns and tanks. Edward and I visited houses and businesses every Wednesday to help collect.

Edward walked swiftly with his hands in his pockets. I had to march along double-time to keep up with his broad strides. I was worried about the conversation we had just received, and I could tell he was too. Edward never walked with his hands in his pockets.

"I've felt that around Mother for a while now… Father as well." Edward didn't look at me as he said this, but his forward gaze was hard.

"Really?" I asked, surprised. "I haven't…"

And Edward fell silent, because he was thinking hard.

Two minutes later, as we neared the Judges' residence, I saw Tom sitting on the tip step of the porch. He was leaning forward on his knees, looking bored. "Hey, Masen…," he mumbled.

"Hi, Tom," Edward said, stopping in front of the gate. "What's up?"

"Nothin'!" Tom exclaimed. His tone did not match his expressionless face. "Nothin' at all…"

"Well…" Edward glanced at me. "We're going down to Chubb's for a soda. Wanna come?"

Chubb's was a pizza parlor in town, and a very popular hangout. Especially in the hot months of summer. It was a special treat that we were going now, and a surprise to me.

"Nawww," Tom moaned, rolling his eyes. "Ma won't let me outta the yard."

"Why not?" Edward asked. I didn't think Mrs. Judge grounded Tom often.

"Well, Sally across the street got really sick and went to the hospital. Ma doesn't want me to catch what she had."

"Sally Weaver?" Edward clarified, looking at the house behind us. Sally Weaver was a second grader who I didn't know well. "Rodney's sister?"

"Uh-hu. Ma's just being paranoid, I reckon."

"Yeah, I guess. Bye, then, Tom."

"See you later, Edward."

Tom hadn't even noticed I was there.

I bounced along beside Edward on the balls of my feet. "Are we really going to Chubb's, Edward? Really?"

Edward smiled for the first time that day. "Sure, Ella. You can have a candy bar before we do our rounds."

There was barely anyone at Chubb's, and Edward bought me a Hershey's chocolate bar. He bought himself a bottle of Coca-Cola. It was strange how empty the parlor had been; they were usually very busy. I noticed the small, red sign on the door when we were leaving.

"Edward, what does this say?" I squinted at the tiny words. "'Avoid sp-sp-sp'… what is that word, Edward?"

Edward leaned forward for a better look. "'Health Advisory: Avoid spitting, coughing, and sneezing in public."

I giggled. "'Spitting'?"

Edward's brow creased as he read the rest silently to himself.

I nibbled on my chocolate bar. It was melting fast in the sun.

After a couple of minutes, Edward turned away from the sign. He grabbed my elbow. "C'mon, Ella." And then he pulled me along down the sidewalk.

I licked my chocolate covered fingers. "What's wrong, Edward?" I asked, looking up at his troubled profile.

He didn't look at me, and his frown deepened. "I don't know, Ella. But I think…" Then he stopped to abruptly that my arm hurt when it was held back.

"Ouch, Edward," I said irritably, following his pointed gaze.

It was one of the red city trolleys that I had always wanted to ride. It drove by us heading north on Beaver Street, but something was different. There were black draperies on the inside of the otherwise clear window panes. I wondered what it was that they didn't want us to see.

"It's something bad," Edward said, finishing his sentence.

I felt pricks on the back of my neck, even though the sun was hot.

Edward reached for my hand, and pulled me along again without another word. I didn't realize where we were headed until we turned back onto our street.

"Why are we going home?" I asked. Edward was being awfully strange.

"I need to talk to Mother. We can go scrapping later today."

I sulked. "But we always go in the morning…"

"Ella," he growled angrily. And I knew that was the end of it.

:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:

I wiped the sweat from my forehead as I followed Edward into the house. Mr. McGee's car was gone.

My mother stood at the water basin, slowly washing the dishes as she gazed out of the window there. The view was of our tiny backyard, and I didn't find it as interesting as my mother did. Even though we had made a lot of noise with the door, she had not heard or acknowledged.

"Mother!" Edward said, walking right up to her.

Her head turned, and her tired eyes fell on Edward. Her face wasn't surprised, but her voice was. "Edward? Why are you back so soon?"

"Mother," he said, ignoring her question, "what's going on? Does Dad have whatever everyone else does? Why is he at the hospital when we can take care of him? What aren't you telling us?"

I was surprised by his disrespect, and his questions seemed to perplex my mother. Her face became haunted, just like I had seen her the previous evening. She took her hands from her soapy water, and flung them around Edward's neck. She cried again, this time not so quietly.

I stood paralyzed by the scene before me. My home had been generally of good cheer during my time in it, and love bound us together strongly. However, the past twenty-four hours had been virtually the opposite of that norm.

My father, the joy-bringing patriarch of my family, was taken from me under mysterious circumstances. My mother, the loving foundation, was grief-stricken and estranged from me. And my brother, my companion and anchor, was conflicted and distant. Why?

"Eleanor!" my mother gasped, reaching out to me with one hand.

I walked forward numbly, and let her embrace me with Edward. My brother looked down at me, and a silent dread passed between us.

"Your father –!" My mother tried to speak between weeps. "Your father is –!"

Edward's whisper was below any sound I'd heard before, yet it was as loud as scream. "He's dead."

And my mother cried anew, clutching onto us as though a terrible wind would blow us away otherwise. Somehow, this information was not a surprise to me. Perhaps I had known all along, as Edward had. However, my heart still quivered at the words, and tears sprang in my eyes.

Edward and I did not volunteer for scrap rounds that day.

:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:

We ate left-over bread that night, with a wedge of cheese and cold milk. Though we only attended a church once a week and failed to pray over meals, we prayed to God that night. I don't know if he heard us, or if he cared, but our spiritual communion calmed us all enough to sleep.

I fell asleep in my mother's bed, with my mother's arms wrapped around me. Edward had gone to our room to sleep, but I heard him lie down beside us after he'd thought I was asleep. My mother's tears fell into my hair, even though she was thoroughly asleep.

I woke up multiple times, from either restlessness or bad dreams.

Sorry this is shorter; I'm working on the next chapter. Review and tell me what you think!

-Scarlet