By Ruth White
Round 5:00 a.m. on a hot Sunday morning on October 1953, my Aunt Belle left her mattress and vanished from the face of the earth.
Everyone in Coal Station, Virginia, has a thought approximately what occurred to Belle Prater, yet twelve-year-old Gypsy wishes the evidence, and whilst her cousin Woodrow, Aunt Belle's son strikes round the corner, she has her probability. Woodrow isn't as drawing close as Gypsy hopes, but he turns into greater than only a interest to her-- in the course of their sixth-grade 12 months she reveals that they've sufficient in universal to be top acquaintances. having said that, Gypsy is wondered through Woodrow's calm popularity of his mother's disappearance, specially on the grounds that she herself hasn't ever gotten over her father's dying. while Woodrow ultimately unearths that he's been protecting a mystery approximately his mom, Gypsy starts to appreciate that there are other ways of discovering the energy to stand the reality, regardless of how painful it is.
Belle Prater's Boy is a 1996 Boston Globe - Horn publication Awards Honor booklet for Fiction and a 1997 Newbery Honor e-book.
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Extra resources for Belle Prater's Boy (Belle Prater, Book 1)
The people, well, the horror was so great that his mind went blank, but the twisted bodies of the dogs twisted his soul. They had been with the people, excited but not knowing why. He wrapped them in papervine and weighed them down and sent them into the current anyway. Dogs would want to stay with the people, because they were people, too, in their way. He didn’t know what to do with the piglet, though. It was all by itself. Maybe the sow had legged it for the high forest, as they did when, in their piggy way, they sensed the water coming.
But he heard a voice. It was very faint, but it was coming from somewhere below Mau. It sounded a bit like singing, but not a very big bit. To Mau, it just sounded like ‘na, na, na’. But it was a human voice. Perhaps it was another trouserman? It was a bit squeaky. Were there trouserwomen? Or it could be a ghost. There would be a lot of ghosts now. It was past noon. If it was a ghost, then it would be very weak. He was the Nation. He had to do something. He started to climb down the cliff, which was easy enough even with trying to move quietly, although birds flew up all around him.
Light died in the west. Night and tears took the Nation. The star of Water drifted among the clouds like a murderer softly leaving the scene of the crime. 27 Nation 26/6/08 16:43 Page 28 N AT I O N CHAPTER 2 T THE NEW WORLD he morning was a lighter shade of night. Mau felt as if he hadn’t slept at all, hunched up amongst the broad fallen leaves of a coconut tree, but there must have been times when his body and mind just shut down, in a little rehearsal of death. He awoke or maybe came alive again with the dead grey light, stiff and cold.