By Donna Milner
Prior to River, every little thing was once excellent. . . . transforming into up on a Canadian dairy farm lower than miles from the yankee border, fifteen-year-old Natalie Ward is aware little of the surface international. yet her loving, close-knit family members is the envy of old and young alike within the within reach city of Atwood. Natalie adores her 3 brothers—especially Boyer, the eldest, whom she idolizes. yet every thing adjustments one scorching July afternoon in 1966 while a long-haired stranger seems to be at their door—a soft-spoken American, a Vietnam warfare resister, who will try the family's morals and ideology, and set in movement catastrophic occasions that might shatter Natalie's relationships with these she such a lot dearly loves.
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Extra resources for After River: A Novel
When the teacher asked who had written it, I kept my promise to Boyer. I was pretty proud of that word too. Anonymous. Boyer and I rehearsed the verses so many times in his attic room that I could repeat them in my sleep. I still can. I know that the composition penned by a fifteen-year-old boy was not literary genius, but it was to me then and I felt a responsibility to do my brother’s words proud. The night of the concert I stood on the stage in the Atwood Elementary gymnasium-cum-auditorium and swallowed.
She wants to tell Natalie she heard the baby cry, but she cannot form the words. Too late. The last footstep echoes and disappears. The tabletop swirls before her. She dives into the green linoleum sea. It swallows her up and she drowns in the darkness, the nothingness. 22 Chapter Five In the glow from the computer screen, I press the first speed dial on my phone. Jenny’s home number. ’ Nick’s voice answers after one ring. Only a man will pick up the phone on the first ring. I haven’t met a woman yet who won’t wait until at least the second ring before answering.
Normally I would have asked Boyer about a new word, hoping it was a ten-penny one, but something told me that this wimpy sounding word had little value. So I asked Mom. ’ she asked, her brows knitting together in a frown. Afraid I’d stumbled on a forbidden word, I told her what Ma Cooper said. My mother’s eyes narrowed for a brief moment, the muscles of her cheeks twitched as she clamped her mouth shut. Then she smiled and touched my face, ‘Well, it could mean many things, honey. My guess is that it means you’re good around the house.