The Klipfish Code Read Online Free Page B

called, Marit's dread grew that they would
never
get a letter,
never
again see Mama and Papa. To again hear nothing, to walk back along the road empty-handed, to be passed by truck-loads of German soldiers ... A stone lodged in her throat and she chewed the inside of her lip to keep from crying. If she started, she'd never stop.
    Hanna elbowed her. "Marit—he called Halversen. Raise your hand."
    Marit shot her hand up and hurried forward. She suddenly couldn't speak.
    Mr. Larsen looked over her head, waving the letter high. "Halversen?"

    "Here!" She waved her arm back and forth.
    Suddenly, the chatter in the shop died away as Mr. Larsen turned toward the window, the letter frozen in his hand. Everyone followed his gaze. Outside, a German officer dismounted from his bay horse, its coat as glossy as its rider's long black boots. When the Germans had arrived, they'd brought their own horses with them.
    The officer stepped inside and frowned, as if he'd caught a group of children doing something wrong. "Too many," he said in halting Norwegian, his nose bent slightly at the bridge. He waved his arm through the air as if clearing unwelcome cobwebs. "A secret meeting?"
    Mr. Larsen spoke up, waving the letter. "I was just handing out the mail. You see? This one goes to the Halversens." He pointed to Marit. "Marit and her brother are grandchildren of Leif Halversen."
    The German studied Marit.
    She held herself back from leaping for the letter like a starving dog after a food scrap. She kept calm—controlling herself—as if the letter meant nothing to her at all. But she had already noticed the handwriting. It was Mama's!
    The officer took the letter from Mr. Larsen's hand and placed it in Marit's. "There you go,
Fräulein.
"
    She would rather spit in his hand than take anything from him, but she couldn't refuse the letter. It burned between her fingers. She wanted to rip it open, but instead she waited for the officer to leave. As soon as he was outside and turned his tall, ebony horse toward the street, Marit hurried to the door, with Hanna and Lars right behind her.

    Once outside, she studied the letter.
    "Is it from your parents?" Hanna asked.
    "
Nei.
I mean, the return address says Siversen, not Gundersen. But the handwriting. Something's not right. I'm sure this is my mother's."
    "Hanna! Marit!" came a familiar voice. The girls looked up from the envelope. Olaf, a year older and a friend of Hanna's, hurried from the docks toward them, all smiles. In his arms he carried a shaggy pup. The dog's eyes were mismatched—one was blue, the other brown—and its pink tongue lapped relentlessly at Olaf's face. "Look what my father brought back for me from Ålesund! It's a husky—the kind that pulls sleds."
    He set the wiggly puppy down on the side of the road and combed the pup's thick fur with his fingers. The puppy's tail curved over its back. "He's going to be a fine dog, don't you think? And big. Just look at his paws."
    The puppy was cute, but Marit could only think of the letter and getting home so she could read it with Aunt Ingeborg. "C'mon, Lars. We have to go."
    But Lars dropped to his knees and hugged the puppy's neck. He was always quick to fall in love with animals. "
Hei,
little puppy—"

    "What are you going to name him?" Hanna asked, squatting down alongside Lars.
    Olaf's eyes flickered with mischief. "I was thinking of calling him Marit."
    "
Nei!
" Marit tried to pretend outrage, but she knew Olaf was teasing.
    "Actually, I'm thinking of calling him Kaptain."
    "I like that," Hanna said.
    At that moment, nothing besides the letter mattered. "Lars," she said, "we need to get back." She sounded as firm as Aunt Ingeborg and pulled him to his feet. "I'm sure we'll see Kaptain again soon. We have chores."
    "Marit ... but—"
    "Now!" She nearly ran all the way home, but had to keep stopping along the road to wait for Lars to catch up. Past the school building, boathouses, and pastures, they