Chapter 20 Chapter 19 Next Saturday

They were all sitting around the breakfast table: Uncle Allen was reading the paper, his wife was holding a long letter from her sister, Tom's mother, and Tom himself was reading a letter from Peter.Tom put his hand over the letter as he read it, lest anyone-even if only inadvertently-peek at it. Dear Tom: Be careful!Mom is writing to Aunt Gwen that you can come home this weekend, and this time you're really going.I think Mom would say, you have to go home because I miss you so much, I don't really want you to leave there.I like all the things you wrote in your letter.Talk to me again.Wish I could go there too, but Mom and Dad don't agree.

Wish we had more trees, a small river close by, and a tall wall.Wish I could be there. your peter Tom sighed. He really wanted Peter to get his wish, if only a little bit.Tom looked again at the beginning of the letter: "Watch out!" But how can children defy grown-ups, especially parents, to decide for them? "You're going home this weekend," and today was--Tom glanced at the top of the newspaper in Uncle Allen's hand--it was Tuesday.He supposed they would advise him to leave on Saturday or Sunday. Aunt Gwen put down the letter and gave Tom a sad smile. "Well, Tom, we're going to say good-bye to you really soon."

"When?" asked Tom stiffly. "Saturday. There is a reduced-fare train on Saturday morning, and your mother said you can take the train now that you have passed the quarantine period." "Next Saturday?" said Tom. "So soon?" Uncle said suddenly, "We'll miss you, Tom," and then he seemed surprised—even annoyed—that he had said it. Aunt Gwen said, "Your parents are sending you special greetings, Tom, and they look forward to seeing you again soon. Your mother says Peter has missed you so much. Peter is listless and cranky all day when you're not home. He needs you. We Can't be expected to keep you here any longer—unless we adopt you."

If they adopted him, Tom figured, he'd be able to stay here, but on the other hand, he wouldn't be able to be with his family anymore: his mom, dad, Peter... Tom felt a tightness in his chest, as if it was being squeezed open.He wanted two different things from the bottom of his heart: he wanted Papa, Mama, Peter and his family - he really wanted them very badly; and on the other hand, he wanted his garden. "If you adopt me," said Tom, slowly and bitterly. "I was only joking, Tom," said my aunt, trying to dispel Tom's thoughts. She does it to a degree, and Tom actually doesn't want to leave his own family and become a Kitson kid.However, the situation is critical now, and an emergency measure must be devised.He knew from Peter's letter and from the way his aunt had spoken just now that there was no hope of him staying here any longer—postponement, cold, even adoption, none of it was going to work.They say Saturday morning, and that's Saturday morning.

next Saturday…… "Maybe," my aunt was still saying, "you will come back next summer and live with us for a while." Tom had no way of answering her or thanking her, because next year was too far away, and at this moment, when he thought of leaving soon, he felt very bad--so bad, it could be said that his heart It's all going to shatter. All that morning: Tom seemed to hear the grandfather clock ticking, minute by minute, Saturday getting closer and closer.He really hated the grandfather clock for doing that.But then it occurred to him that just this very night, when Hattie opened the door of the dial, the secret of the grandfather clock had been revealed.What that secret would be, Tom could not guess at all.But he somehow felt that the secret was so important that he found himself harboring a vague hope in it--his only hope.For this, he longed for the time to pass quickly and the night to come earlier.The time between now and night seems so long; and the time between now and Saturday seems so short.

When Tom wrote to Peter that afternoon about the garden, he had a vague hope in his heart, but he did not feel it.He promised to write more tomorrow.In order to get rid of the ticking of the grandfather clock, Tom went for a walk with his aunt.He asked his aunt if there was a small river nearby, and the aunt said that there seemed to be one, and she could help him find it.They went up and down the alleys, turning and turning, until Tom lost all direction.They came to a small bridge. "Here's the river you want, Tom!" said Aunt Gwen triumphantly. It must be the river, though it didn't look like the river Tom had seen from Hatty's window, or the river he and Hatty had been to across the meadow beyond the garden hedge.The river in front of me no longer flows along the edge of the lawn: it is the back garden of each family on one side, and an asphalt path on the other.

A man was fishing by the little bridge, and Aunt Gwen asked him loudly, "Did you catch any fish?" "There's not a single fish here," replied the man angrily.He stood next to a sign that read: "Warning. Council regulations. Swimming, playing or waddling in the water is at your own risk. The waters have been found to be severely polluted and unsuitable for such uses." "What is pollution?" Tom asked. "I think it means the river isn't clean anymore," said Aunt Gwen, "because of all the houses and factories built around it. I think the factories dumped some horrible filth into the river." .”

Tom looked at the water: it didn't look very dirty, but he saw that the weeds under the surface were no longer thin, green, and shiny, but covered in a tawny, dull down.There were no geese around, no other waterfowl.It seemed impossible that there would be fish in the river.On the other hand, many broken glass, broken pottery and empty cans can be seen faintly on the river bed. "Can't swim or wade anywhere else?" asked Tom. "There's a swimming pool in Castleford. The river goes all the way to Castleford, you know." "Flows to Castleford and Ely and Kings Lynn and the sea," said Tom.

"Why, yes, Tom," said my aunt in great amazement, "how do you know all that geography?" "Someone told me." Tom refused to say more. "Excuse me, what time is it?" "It's almost four o'clock." that is all? With nothing more interesting to see, they walked slowly home.As soon as he entered the front door of the big house, Tom heard the ticking of the grandfather clock.It will tick until bedtime, in which case time is Tom's friend; but after that, it will tick again until Saturday, in which case time is Tom's enemy .