The Book of Everything Read Online Free Page A

Mother.
    â€œBut how do you think you will get to the end of this month?” Father asked.
    â€œI’ll make it up out of my clothes allowance,” said Mother.
    â€œNo, no, that’s going a bit far,” he said. Sighing, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and took out a twenty-five-guilder note. “Here, take this,” he said. “But do try to manage on the housekeeping money.”
    Thomas crept out of the room with his book. Mother went into the kitchen, the twenty-five-guilder note in her hand.
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    â€œDear Eliza,” Thomas wrote in The Book of Everything . “Maybe you think you are not beautiful because you have a leather leg that creaks when you walk. Or because one of your hands has only a little finger and nothing else. But that is not true. You are the most beautiful girl in the world. I think that later you are going to live in a castle with a Rolls-Royce in the driveway. I do not write this because I want to go out with you, for you are already sixteen and I am only nine (nearly ten), so that is not possible. I write it because it is true.”
    He stared out of the window and thought, “What a pity I don’t dare write this to Eliza.”
    Pity, pity, pity, for it was a lovely letter, particularly that bit about the castle and the Rolls-Royce. “I won’t dare, never in my life, no way.”
    â€œDo you know how happiness begins?” Mrs. van Amersfoort said in his head. “It begins with no longer being afraid.”
    That was easy for her to say, because she was a witch. But wait a minute. Perhaps she had become a witch because she was no longer afraid.
    Thomas found a sheet of paper and wrote: “Dear Eliza, I actually don’t have the courage to write this, but I’m doing it all the same….” Then he copied his letter, castle, Rolls-Royce, and all. He folded the paper twice and slid it into an envelope. “For Eliza,” he wrote on it in beautiful script with lots of flourishes. He put the envelope into his trouser pocket. Maybe, just maybe, he would one day give it to Eliza. You never knew.
    â€œThomas, Margot, dinner is ready,” Mother called from downstairs.
    He met Margot in the hall. “What was it like in there?” she asked.
    â€œWhere?” asked Thomas.
    â€œAt the witch’s place.”
    Thomas suddenly thought that the word “witch” soundednasty. He had to swallow before he could say, “How should I know?”
    They went down the stairs. “I know perfectly well that you’ve been there,” Margot hissed. Before they reached the living room door, she grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. “Come on, tell me. What was it like in there?”
    He looked her in the face. How could he explain to an onion what it was like at Mrs. van Amersfoort’s? “It was … ah … different,” he said.
    Margot shook him. “Different from what?”
    â€œDifferent from our place,” Thomas said.
    She let go of him. “I’ll talk to you later,” she said.
    They went into the room. Father and Mother were already at the table. The pots stood steaming under the light. Thomas could smell it right away: potatoes, cauliflower, and meat. He didn’t like cauliflower.
    They sat down.
    â€œLet us pray,” said Father.
    They folded their hands and closed their eyes.
    â€œO Lord our God,” Father began.
    â€œHey there, Thomas,” Thomas heard in his head. In the dark behind his eyelids he saw Jesus in a long white dress that flapped in the breeze. “How’s it going, my boy?” Jesus asked.
    â€œGood,” said Thomas.
    â€œJust good or Beethoven good?”
    â€œJust good,” said Thomas. “But …” He didn’t dare go on.
    â€œNo need to be afraid, lad,” said Jesus. “You can tell me. I won’t tell anyone. Word of honor.” The Lord Jesus spat in His right hand and raised two