Cloud and Wallfish by Anne Nesbet

Author:Anne Nesbet [Nesbet, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7636-9180-6
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Published: 2016-07-31T16:00:00+00:00

His mother ran some errands that first day in Budapest — though to Noah’s disappointment those errands seemed to have absolutely nothing to do with car accidents or bad magic. Noah’s mother reported that there were hundreds of East Germans camped outside the West German embassy.

“Families with kids — tents — imagine!” said his mother. “That’s because of the possibly leaky border. They’re just going to wait until something happens.”

Noah’s father sniffed the air and gave Noah a significant look.

“What about Cloud-Claudia’s parents?” said Noah, impatient with all this irrelevant stuff. “When are you going to find out the truth about them?”

“Hold your horses,” said his mother. “This is vacation, remember? I’ve got another idea: Would you lovely people perhaps be interested in a picnic?”

“A picnic?” said Noah.

He was staring as hard as he could at his mother, but her expression gave absolutely nothing away.

“A very large picnic,” said his mother. “A large and special one. It will be fun and exciting — though a long day for you, I’m afraid. Sorry about that. It’s quite far away. Out in the country.”

Noah tried to be as sneaky in his thinking as his mother always was.

“Out in the country where car accidents sometimes happen?”

And he did think — just maybe — that he saw a tiny quick shard of pride light up her eyes. But then the curtains went back down.

“And that’s about the end of questions from you, young fellow,” said Noah’s mother with a quick grin. “Back to being inconspicuous.”

“Not American,” said Noah.

“Right,” said his mother. “Tourists from East Germany, that’s who we are. Can you handle that, Jonah?”

“Technically not a lie,” Noah’s father pointed out.

“True,” said his mother. “But anyway, this picnic is way out in Sopron,” she said. “The Pan-European Picnic, that’s what they’re calling it.”

“History?” said Noah’s father, and he sniffed the air once or twice.

“Maybe so,” said Noah’s mother. “In any case, Jonah, Advanced Rules will apply. In fact, I kind of think you perhaps shouldn’t talk at all. And you” — she was waving a finger at Noah’s dad now —“should not sniff !”

Noah’s father just laughed at that.

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