Vicky was sure they had gotten her the bicycle. 'The perfect place to go for long rides on a brand new, ten-speed bike.'But her parents, who were now preoccupied in an odd way, did not seem to hear her.Īs her birthday approached, her parents grew more and more excited. Vicky forgot her immediately, however.'It really is beautiful here,' she said dreamily.

As they drove away Vicky caught one last glimpse of the old woman staring at them from the shadowy doorway, her wrinkled face eager with curiosity. Her toothless mouth puckered into a smile she stood up a littlestraighter and brushed the hair out of her eyes.To Vicky's relief they left the farmhouse soon after that, taking nothing with them. The old woman who had let them in, who was so fat that her legs bent outward and she had to hobble with a cane, seemed particularly pleased about whatever it was they had noticed. Her mother hurried over to him, and they exchanged a few excited whispers. While her mother rummaged through tattered piles, Vicky drifted circuitously through the dimness, trying to decide whether she wanted a yellow bike or a blue one, with racing handlebars, of course, but should the tape be-Suddenly, from the other side of the room, her father exclaimed over something.

The room was so crowded with old dusty things that there were only a few narrow corridors for walking. 'It won't take long,' he said, and they followed her mother up to the dilapidated wooden farmhouse that sagged behind the sign.It was dark inside, and there was a moldy basement smell. Her mother was always searching for old phonograph records and sheet music.Her father winked at Vicky. Her father pulled the car abruptly over to the side of the road where there was a hand-lettered ANTIQUES sign nailed to a tree. 'Something on your mind?''Oh,' she said dreamily, trying not to make the hint too obvious, 'I was just thinking about what a wonderful place this would be to go for rides on a brand new, ten-''Wait! Stop!' her mother cried out, startling Vicky and not giving her a chance to finish. 'You haven't said a word for miles, Vicky,' he said. Certainly it did not occur to Vicky to wonder about what the approaching, more bitter season would hold for her.What she was thinking about more than anything else as they drove along the winding country road was the ten-speed bicycle she hoped to get for her birthday.Her father looked briefly back at her from the driver's seat and smiled.

It was altogether a perfect day for a family outing. Chapter OneThe poplar trees along the roadside shimmered in a light breeze, and there was hardly a nip in the autumn air.

Among the dolls william sleator