Marty tried to save us.
"Remember the last educational hobby?
The art classes? I was sick for days.”
"That was your own fault,”
said Mum
"I only had a drink of water.”
You are not supposed to drink the water that peple use to wash their brushes.”
Dad was thinking. "What about the library?”
he said finally.
"What about it?” I sad, trying to sound casual, but my stomach was churning.
"You both could join. Reading. It's Perfect.
How can you cause trouble reading a book?”
"And it's educational,” added Mum.
"Yes, of course, it's educational too,” Dad agreed.
"How is it educational?” I asked, terrified by the idea.
"I'd much rather be outside riding a horse than inside reading about one.”
My mother tousled my hair. "Because, Will, sometimes the only horse you can ride is the one in your head.”
I had no idea what that meant.
"Don't make us foin the library,”
Morty begged. "It's too dangerous.”
"Dangerous? Hou could a library be dangerous?”Dad asked.
"Is not the library,” Marty whispered. "It's the librarian.”
”Mrs Murphy?” said Mum. "She's a lovely old lady."