Last Summer in Louisbourg by Clare Mowat Page B

working there in the evenings any more; not on his own.”
    â€œAw, Mom,” grumbled Cory.
    â€œThe police have been here. Twice now,” his mother added.
    â€œWhat did they ask you, Cory?” Justine wanted to know.
    â€œOh, a lot of things. Did I see the guy’s face? What kind of clothes was he wearing? Was he tall or short? What age was he? Had I ever seen the guy in the store before?”
    â€œHad you?”
    â€œNo. Trouble was, I didn’t really see his face at all. He snuck up behind me while I was putting the oranges and celery and stuff away for the night. He poked something sharp in my back and ordered me to open the cash drawer. He grabbed all the money, then he pushed me across the store so hard it knocked off my glasses. I don’t have very good eyesight without them, so all I could say for sure was that he was wearing jeans and sneakers and a baseball cap pulled down around his eyebrows.”
    â€œWhich sounds like just about every guy in the country,” remarked Andrea.
    â€œDid he steal anything else?” asked Justine, eager for every detail.
    â€œAll the cigarettes. Fifteen cartons.”
    â€œEwww. Gross,” commented Andrea.
    â€œAnd on top of that he took my Walkman, which was lying on the counter, and that makes me really mad,” said Cory angrily.
    â€œNow, Cory, dear, we can get you another,” consoled his mother as she got up to make the tea.
    It didn’t take Justine very long to return to her chatty self once her astonishment at being inside Cory’s home wore off. Cory’s mother was the sort of woman who made people feel at home, and Cory, despite his recent ordeal, turned out to be a more relaxed person in his own home than he was when he was working at the store.
    â€œSo, how do you like Louisbourg?” he asked them both.
    â€œThe town or the fortress?” countered Andrea.
    â€œThe town.”
    â€œSuits me okay,” replied Justine.
    â€œMe too,” Andrea said with a nod.
    â€œNot much goin’ on here,” Cory lamented, “unless getting robbed is your idea of a good time.”
    Both girls giggled a bit and then Justine remarked, “There’s not much excitement where I come from either.”
    â€œWhere’s that?”
    â€œRiver Bourgeois.”
    â€œOh yeah, I’ve heard of it. But I was never there. They say it’s pretty nice.”
    â€œIt is. Actually…” Justine began, “if you wanted to see it for yourself you could…you could come to my birthday party next week. Andrea’s coming too. My brother’s coming up to get us so you could get a ride. And you could stay overnight because Marc has space in his room for a camp bed.”
    â€œBut what would your parents say about that?” asked Mrs. Rankin. “I think you’d better ask them first.”
    â€œOh, my mom and dad wouldn’t mind. I’ll check first, but I know they like me to bring my friends home. Mom always says we’re less likely to get into trouble if we’re at home,” explained Justine.
    â€œI’m sure she’s right,” said Mrs. Rankin.
    â€œMmm,” muttered Cory uncertainly. “I dunno if I can go.”
    â€œI’m really looking forward to it,” said Andrea persuasively.
    â€œCory, why don’t you go too? It would be good for you to get away from all this fuss for a while, to take your mind off the robbery,” suggested his mother.
    â€œThe robbery’s history,” declared Cory firmly. There was a long pause before he said anything else. He didn’t want anyone to think he had been bothered by what had happened to him…nor that he was going to take his mother’s advice. Finally he sighed and shrugged and said, “Might be fun. Why not?”
    Justine flashed a wide smile and then, in case she appeared overly enthusiastic, she assumed a matter-of-fact expression and hoped she sounded