Chapter One

Doing Our Part


I didn't mean to do it. I just got carried away.
First I found the balloon in the bib pocket of my overalls and thought it would be fun to fill it with water from the faucet by the garage. Then I thought about finding something to throw the balloon at, and that's when my sister put the record on. Dance music blared out of our bedroom window, pulling me closer to the house as the Andrews Sisters sang,


Don't sit under the apple tree
With anyone else but me,
Anyone else but me,
Anyone else but me-No! No! No!


Sneaking around the corner of the house between the forsythia bushes, I became patrol leader H. N. Anderson. My men crept behind me so silently I couldn't even hear them until we all crouched together under the window, hugging our grenades and listening to high heels click on the wood floor. Nice trick, I thought-the enemy's using an all-American band as cover for sabotage. But it won't work. Steady, men . . . steady . . . NOW!
I leapt up and hurled my grenade through the open window. There wasn't any time to aim; all I hoped to hit was the floor. But the balloon struck the edge of the vanity mirror and exploded all over ribbons, lipstick, powder boxes, and Estelle. I stared at her for a second, seeing mainly a mouth as wide as a bathtub. Mission accomplished-now scram! I dashed toward the front porch as my sister's scream sounded-low at first but zooming up like an air-raid siren. Enemy plane! Take cover!
Straight ahead was the old henhouse. Follow me, men! The natives might give us shelter! I didn't see the attack squad until they were right on top of us-trapped! I dodged to the left, but a long arm reached out and ya