Annie's Adventures Read Free Page B

fresh juice filling our glasses. We were eight at a table that usually sat ten.
    It was hard to ignore those two empty chairs.
    At last, Georgia spoke the words we were all thinking. Well, she spoke them because we'd put her up to it. While Annie was off getting the wood, we'd had a little conference and elected Georgia our spokesperson. Okay, maybe she volunteered.
    "Annie," Georgia said, "I've been wondering: why didn't you call the cops right away last night?" Her words sounded innocent enough, and yet there was something about her tone that smacked of accusation.
    Annie looked surprised by the question, as well as the tone. "It was New Year's Eve," she said, "late, and there was lots of snow. We live at the top of a hill. Do you think they'd have been in a hurry to rush out here? You've seen cop stories on TV. If we phoned them, they'd tell us we need to wait at least twenty-four hours to file a missing-persons report."
    "Then why not call them now?" Georgia prompted.
    "Because twenty-four hours haven't passed." Annie speared another bite of pancake. "It hasn't even been twelve hours yet." She popped the pancake bite into her mouth.
    But Georgia wouldn't let up. "Then what about tonight at exactly ten, when it's been twenty-four hours—will you call then?"
    "No," Annie said simply.
    "But why ever not?" Jackie put in. Even our peacekeeper couldn't help but be confused by Annie's behavior.
    "Because," Annie said evenly, "they couldn't do anything. And whatever they might do would only make a muddle of things."
    "I don't think any of us follow you," Marcia said.
    "Okay, then, it's like this," Annie said, setting down her fork. "We don't know what happened to Mommy and Daddy, correct?"
    Seven heads nodded.
    "But we did get that note," Annie went on. "Someone left it there. It's not a ransom note. It's not a threatening note. But it does tell us what to do if we want to find out what happened to our parents: we must discover our own powers and our own gifts. And that's what I propose we do."
    "But how will we do that? " Rebecca said. "And why can't the police be looking for Mommy and Daddy while we're...?" Rebecca's eyes filled with horror. "Oh no! The reason you're not calling them is that you're certain Mommy and Daddy are ... dead!"
    "Don't be daft," Annie said crossly. "Here's the situation: our mother disappeared from a kitchen where she went to make eggnog, our father disappeared from a woodshed. Now, we know our parents better than anyone in the world. On the other hand, the cops know nothing of our parents. Do you really think they can do better than we can?"
    It made sense to us.
    "And there's another thing," Annie said.
    "Which is?" Georgia prompted.
    "If we tell the cops, they'll split us up. Then, not only will we not have parents, we won't even have each other anymore."
    "How do you know that?" Georgia asked.
    "Simple logic," Annie said. "If we call the cops, they certainly won't let us go on living here without a grownup. First they'll call our relatives."
    We thought about our relatives: grandparents on different continents; Aunt Martha, who'd never had children; Uncle George, who'd never liked children. And when we saw them, all of them said we were too loud.
    "None of them will take all of us," Annie went on. "They might not even take any of us. And what do you think the chances are that they'll find a foster home that will take on eight kids at once?"
    It was a question with an obvious negative answer.
    "Right," Annie said. "If we call the cops, we'd be split up by nightfall."
    "And how long would that go on?" Petal asked, clearly worried.
    "Forever," Annie said, "if they don't find Mommy and Daddy."
    Jackie was thinking. "So, then, we have to pretend everything's fine here, that there are adults still living in the house, until we can figure out what happened to Mommy and Daddy?"
    "Exactly," Annie said.
    We could all see, even Georgia could see, that she was right.
    We'd eaten all we could eat of breakfast