So far, Heddy has a new friend, Lester. She finds out that the post mistress hides mail and opens letters. She accidentally told Lester about her friend, Mr. Artie. Lester realizes Artie is a German citizen.

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Nonni wakes me up with a gentle nudge. She waves her hand for me to follow her downstairs. "Do you think Lester is going to keep Artie's presence on the island a secret?" she whispers once we reach the kitchen.

I rub my eyes and settle into the chair by the stove. I used to sit in it when I was little and Momma would be cooking. Momma said she liked to talk to me while she cooked, but I heard her telling my aunt, Lana, that I tended to get into trouble when she couldn't see me. "He said he would, at least for now."

"And, you believe Mr. Artie was telling you the truth? That he is a pacifist?"

I squint. I don't know what that is, but I don't want to seem stupid to Nonni. I shrug. "I believe him. He don't want to hurt anyone. He's afraid of the Fuhrer, that's Hitler."

"We should all be afraid of that man," Nonni says. "Maybe, when your brother comes home, Lester will forget all about Mr. Artie."

"Are you afraid for him? Do you think something bad is going to happen to him?"

Nonni pulls the ladder back chair from the table and sets it in front of me. She sits and reaches over to take my hands in hers. "Heddy, when people are afraid, they make decisions sometimes that hurt others. I remember when I was a young woman, we had a colored man who lived in the village. He did odd jobs, was friendly and everyone liked him. We let him be. Then one night someone got stabbed, right there in town. Everybody turned on him. He swore he didn't hurt anyone, but some of the men in town, well, they didn't believe him." Nonni looks away, worry in her eyes. "I'm just saying, things might not be so good for your friend Artie if it gets out that he's a German hiding out on the island."

"What happened to the colored man, Nonni?"

"They hung him, Heddy. They hung that poor man from a tree."

"Why?"

"Because they were afraid. My daddy was one of them. He didn't tell me until he was on his deathbed. He begged God for forgiveness. But, it didn't change what happened." Her hands tremble as she holds mine.

"I won't let anything happen to Mr. Artie." I whisper.

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Momma wakes me up early. Even though I'm tired and want to stay under the sheet, she keeps coming into my room, telling me how much we have to get done before Willis comes home. I pull on my shorts and top, make up my bed because I don't want to have to come back upstairs later when it's hot.

Momma places a bowl of cut up fruit in front of me when I sit at the table. "Your daddy found a blackberry bush when he was walking from the ferry last night. Said to tell you that he had to wrestle a black bear for these." She smiles and winks at me. "So, make sure you give your daddy a big hug when he gets home tonight."

The blackberries are kind of bitter but I eat every single one in my bowl. I know he didn't wrestle a bear, but I'm guessing he would if he had to. "So, when is Willis going to come home?" I ask, licking my berry stained fingers.

"He is coming stateside in six days. So, your daddy thinks he should be here in about fourteen days. We have so much to do, Heddy. I need you to take a bucket and a rag and go wash those living room windows, both inside and out. Use the newspaper to wipe them dry, okay."

I giggle. Using a newspaper to wash windows makes me laugh.

"I'll fix up the vinegar rinse to wash them with. Then you go around the house and wash all the windows."

I blow a piece of hair up in frustration. This sounds like it's going to take all day. It's already hot and it's going to be hot as the devil when I go upstairs and have to wash those windows. "I don't understand why I have to wash the outside of the windows. The salt slime is just gonna come back in a couple of days."

"I don't need you to understand why, I just need you to do as I say." She doesn't wait for a response just turns and heads outside to grab the bucket. "Hurry on up and finish your breakfast."

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The living room windows sparkle when I finish. My hands smell like pickles and sweat has plastered my hair smack dab on my forehead. I know she's gonna make me take a bath when I'm done with my chores. This day gets worse and worse.

I head upstairs after lunch, toting the bucket of fresh vinegar and water and a ream of newspaper tucked under my arm. "How do I clean the outside of the windows up here?" I call from the top of the stairs.

"Your daddy can get the outsides with a ladder, you just worry about the insides."

The rest of the afternoon is lost to vinegar and newspaper. When I finally get to my room, I sit on the edge of my bed and look out. The panes are speckled with salt, but I can still see the ocean. There are trees around the side of the house, some tall pines and some walnut. The faint breeze teases the green leaves, making them dance in the air.

I walk closer to the window, looking down through the branches. Something is moving. I think about the story Nonni told me last night. I close my eyes, a man swings from a rope, I suck in my breath. "Don't open your eyes, Heddy," I tell myself. "Don't look."

But, even with my eyes closed, I can see it. Only it isn't just the colored man swinging. Artie is swinging from the branch too.