I
t was so sudden: the earsplitting bangs, the screams, the confusion. Theo and Doug ran into the kitchen; Mrs. Theodoraskis ran out. Her hair, her face, her apron were splattered with dark dropping red.
"Blood," Sydelle Pulaski cried, clutching her heart.
"Don't just sit there," Catherine Theodoraskis shouted, "someone call the fire department."
Angela hurried to the pay phone on the wall and stood there trembling, not knowing whether to call or not. They were snowbound, the fire engines could not reach Sunset Towers.
Theo learned through the kitchen doorway. "Everything's okay. There's no fire."
"Chris, honey, it's all right," Mrs. Theodorakis said, kneeling before the wheelchair. "It's all right, Chris, look! It's just tomato sauce."
- Excerpt from The Westing Game, by Ellen Raskin
"Blood," Sydelle Pulaski cried, clutching her heart.
"Don't just sit there," Catherine Theodoraskis shouted, "someone call the fire department."
Angela hurried to the pay phone on the wall and stood there trembling, not knowing whether to call or not. They were snowbound, the fire engines could not reach Sunset Towers.
Theo learned through the kitchen doorway. "Everything's okay. There's no fire."
"Chris, honey, it's all right," Mrs. Theodorakis said, kneeling before the wheelchair. "It's all right, Chris, look! It's just tomato sauce."
- Excerpt from The Westing Game, by Ellen Raskin
