A Friend For Grace... Part 6

By Hannah  :)

I got up early the next morning. Although I had gotten hardly any sleep last night I had to be by myself. So many thoughts raced through my head pushing around trying to get the first answer; but I had no answers. I slipped into a pale green dress, faded brown boots, tied my hair up halfway and grabbed a knitted shawl. I  quietly made my way downstairs, crossed through the parlor, and slipped through the front door, when I knew it had closed silently behind me I started to run. I would never dare run when someone was looking. I was considered to old for it. But the good morning tweets from the near by birds couldn't give me away. I ran for our barn, all thoughts, worries, and unanswered questions about Wilhelm and Papa flew away in the morning breeze. I was chilled and panting as I came upon our barn.

     "Gud mornin' miss Grace." I jumped as Wilhelm interrupted the peace of the morning in a accented voice I had never heard before. I'm afraid I was quite rude for I stood there shocked, with my mouth open, not replying. " 'm sorra miss Grace to give yu a startle." I finally regained myself enough to reply. " It's fine. I just hadn't heard you speak. I didn't even know you spoke English!" He blushed and answered " Well 'm quite aroun' folks, and-an' ... such." He sounded sad and tired and for the first time I realized how rude I had been. "Wilhelm, I'm so very sorry about your parents. I can't imagine how hard it must be for you." He nodded and changed the subject."

 "Is it your books miss Grace in the top of the barn?" I was very confused. The top of the barn? " I'm not sure what you mean." I answered truthfully. He walked over to the barn entrance and pointed upward. I almost laughed out loud but, managed to cough instead. " The loft , Wilhelm, Yes, I keep my books and other treasures up there. I like to get away sometimes." He looked curious. "Than it is your kittens as well?" "I don't have any kittens, Wilhelm, and there are none up there." He frowned and nodded sternly. "Oh ya, there are. At least 6, all in a box with a gray mother and..." He stopped there, for I had started toward the ladder up toward the loft.

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Dear Diary,

     This morning Wilhelm and I became friends. He is very quiet and will not talk about his parents or his life in Germany. He can't write or read English, only speak it.  He always calls me Miss Grace. He is very scared of every one in our family and won't talk to me in front of others. He is odd but had some curious trinkets in his knapsack. Mother is calling.

                                                                                                       Grace