Megan's Island Read Free

night,” Sandy said, incredulous.
    Megan took a few steps after her mother. “Mom, I’ve got to call Annie. I can’t just leave. . . .”
    â€œNo. No, don’t call anyone. You can get in touch with Annie later. It’s too late tonight,” her mother said firmly.
    â€œWell, Annie will be asleep, but her folks always watch the late news—I can just explain to them. . . .” Explain what? she wondered. That her mother had apparently lost her mind?
    â€œNo. No phone calls.” To emphasize that, Mrs. Collier stooped and unplugged the telephone from the wall and wound the cord around it on the table where it stood. “Come on, kids, load the car. It’s going to take all night to get there, and I want to make it by dawn if we can.”
    â€œMom . . .” Megan said, pleading, and not only for permission to make the call to Annie. She was scared, and she needed to know what was happening.
    She got a hug, but it didn’t help. “I know I’m upsetting you. Believe me, it’s necessary that we go right away. I’ll tell you why when I can. Here, you take that bag, Sandy—Megan and I will get the rest.”
    There was nothing to do but obey, though Megan’s mind whirled. No finishing school. No last-day picnic. No summer with Annie. What would Annie think when Megan didn’t show up to walk to school tomorrow? When she called and there was no answer? When she rang the bell and learned the house was empty? When, after she’d been invited to go with Megan to the lake for a vacation, the whole Collier family just disappeared?
    Did Jenny know why they were leaving? If Megan called Jenny right now and asked, would she learn anything?
    No, she decided. She probably didn’t have time before her mother came back, and even if she did, grown-ups always stuck together. Jenny wouldn’t tell her what was going on. She’d say, “Ask your mother.”
    The big suitcase was so heavy it took both hands to haul it off the bed. Megan staggered down the hallway with it, and stumbled over a wastebasket near the front door, overturning it. She stopped in disgust to pick up the spilled contents.
    The last thing she picked up didn’t immediately go back into the wastebasket. She swallowed, looking at it, jumping guiltily when Sandy came back inside for another load.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” he demanded.
    â€œNothing,” Megan lied, and dropped the torn envelope in with the other trash. The envelope was addressed to Mrs. Lightner, their landlady, and was torn nearly in half, so that the check inside showed through the tear.
    Why was her mother tearing up the rent check she’d intended to mail tomorrow?
    The only reason Megan could think of was that they weren’t going to live here anymore. They weren’t going to pay the rent for the coming month. Whatever was the matter was serious, and they weren’t coming back.
    The fear inside Megan grew until she felt suffocated with it, unable to breathe. Yet there was nothing she could do except go with Sandy and their mother.
    *  *  *
    Mrs. Collier turned on the car radio to a program of soft music as they sped through the night. Occasionally they went through a town where there were lights around them for a few minutes. Mostly they were on the open highway with only an occasional set of oncoming headlights to break the darkness, or the diminishing red sparks of taillights as a car passed them at high speed.
    In the backseat, solidly surrounded by bundles and boxes, blankets and pillows, Sandy slept. Megan was tired, too, but for some time she couldn’t follow her brother’s example.
    She rested her head on the back of the seat, wishing she dared to press her mother for the answers she was almost afraid to hear. What could have sent them into flight this way, without even telling Annie she was going?
    It was flight, Megan thought. They