Sirens
The weather was warming up. The snow was starting to get slushy. “Today will be our last good sledding day,” Walter said.
Walter and I hurried home from school that afternoon and took off with our old sled. Our favorite spot was the big hill behind the cotton mill.
“Be careful,” Ma said. “You never know.”
The river ran right by the cotton mill, and Ma worried that we’d fall in.
Walter did dangerous things.
It was getting dark. We had stayed too late, and we’d be in trouble when we got home. We were taking a shortcut through the mill yard. It was
spooky. No one worked nights anymore, and there were only a few lights on outside the mill. Walter stopped to skim some rocks over the ice on the river. That’s when we spotted something sticking out of the ice.
“It looks like a suitcase!” Walter said.
“Oh, it’s probably an old lunch bag!” I said.
“No. I bet it’s a suitcase, and there might be money in it. Maybe some bank robbers were being chased and they got scared and threw the bag of money in the river.”
“Walter, it looks like a lunch bag. Someone from the mill probably lost it, and there’s a moldy salami sandwich in it. Come on. Let’s go.”
“No, I’m going to try to get it. If there’s money in there, I can give it to Pa, and I won’t have to go to CCC.”
“I thought you wanted to go to CCC.”
Walter pushed the sled out onto the icy river. “See, the ice didn’t crack at all. It’s still frozen enough to walk on.”
“Come on, Walter. I’m cold. Please—let’s go home. It’s dangerous to play here.”
“Who’s playing? All I’m going to do is get the suitcase.”
I grabbed his jacket. “No, Walter. Let’s go.”
“Here. You hold the rope. If the ice starts to crack, I can hang on to the sled and you can pull me off.”
“I want to go home. Please, Walter.”
“Don’t go crazy! I know what I’m doing!”
Walter stepped cautiously onto the ice and made it to the suitcase. He began yanking on the handle.
“This thing is really stuck!”
He pulled again and fell backward onto the ice.
There was a loud crack. The ice opened up, and Walter fell through into the cold, dark water.
“Walter! Walter!” I screamed.
He clutched at the edge of the broken ice. “Help me, Wanda! Help me!” he called.
“Grab the sled! The sled, Walter!”
“I can’t reach it! Help me! The water’s cold! I’m so cold!”
And before I could do anything, he went down. He went down, and I couldn’t even see him.
“Walter! Walter!”
Oh, God, no! No!
“Walter!” I yelled. “Walter!”
There was no answer. Walter was somewhere in the freezing water under the ice.
I raced through the mill yard. I ran past the school. Finally, I reached Bob’s City Service. Thank God the mechanic was still there, working late. Wild and breathless, I burst into the garage.
“Oh, no! Not Walter!” Bob said. “You stay right here.”
Bob ran to the fire station, and in seconds the bells were clanging and the sirens screaming. The police and the fire department were on their way. Bob put me in his car and sped to my house.
“Walter fell through the ice! Walter’s drowning!” he told Pa. Then both of them jumped into Bob’s car and raced to the river.
Drowning? He wasn’t drowning! He just fell through the ice! Drowning means dying! “Walter’s not drowning!” I told myself.
Ma and Victoria and I prayed all night.
It was after midnight when Pa came home with Bob. We knew before they even said the words. Bob told us.
“Walter’s dead. He drowned. The firemen found him.” Then he broke down and cried.
Pa slumped into the rocking chair and bawled as I never imagined a man could bawl. It was scary. Ma ran to him and put her head in his lap, and they cried together.
“My Walter! My Walter is dead,” Pa wailed. “Walter, Walter. Walter.”
Pa loved you, Walter, and you never knew it. You never knew.
A broken heart hurts so much. Worse than a dizzy headache and a sick stomach and a bad note from the teacher and your best friend being mad at you all at once. Worse than that. Much worse. How could things change so fast? One afternoon I was having fun on a sled with my brother—both of us laughing and rolling in the snow. Then an hour later there were sirens screeching, and rescue wagons
speeding through the streets, and everyone searching for my brother in the cold, dark river. How could things change so fast?
There’d be no CCC for Walter Malinski. No garage job. No dances with Anna. A broken heart hurts so much.