It’s been almost a decade since the end of the war, when the telegram first arrived at their house on Lennox Lane.
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About the Book
East of Everywhere
by Susan Pogorzelski
Published 11 November 2021
Brown Beagle Books
Genre: YA Coming of Age
Page Count: 242
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It’s been almost a decade since the end of the war, when the telegram first arrived at their house on Lennox Lane.
Four years since the apartment on Harker Street, where food was scarce and nights were long and their mother slept away her grief.
Three months since Janie was forced to leave her little brother, Brayden, and best friend, Leo, behind at Anthers Hall.
Two weeks since she stole a bicycle and ran away from the new children’s home on the other side of the state.
One day since she arrived in Montours City.
No one knows her secrets in this small town. If Janie is going to make it back to her brother and the only place she’s ever called home, she needs to keep it that way. But when a hard-hearted widow, a boy in a boxcar, and a dog named Panda weave their way into her life, Janie begins to wonder if what she’s searching for isn’t better off laid to rest.
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Excerpt
“Wake up.” She felt something poking her arm, then heard an urgent whisper. She stirred, lost for a moment in the unfamiliar surroundings. Then she remembered the events of the past day and where she was, and she closed her eyes again, desperate to return to the dreamscape where her mother was alive and she wasn’t all alone.
“Wake up. Wake up, please wake up.” Janie rolled over and opened her eyes to see Brayden standing at her bedside in his print pajamas, the moonlight washing his face and glinting off tear-stained cheeks.
“What’s wrong?” She sat up quickly.
“I wet the bed.” His voice quivered. Janie had her arms around him in an instant.
“Go meet me in the hallway,” she whispered. She glanced at the other girls, their forms unmoving in the dark, then slowly tossed back her covers, pulled the sheets from the mattress, and bundled them in her arms. Closing the door behind her, she nodded for Brayden to lead the way to his room.
“I can’t see. Where’s your bed?” she asked, trying to make out the shapes in the dark.
“The empty one. In the middle.”
“Okay. Go change your pajamas.”
“What’re you doin’?” a small voice asked from the other side of the room.
“Go back to sleep,” she ordered.
“Did he wet the bed?”
“Go back to bed,” she said more firmly.
The little boy plopped back down into his pillows and threw the covers over his head. Janie bunched up the wet bedsheets and shoved them in the small space between the springs and floor, then secured the fresh sheets and tossed the pillow to the foot of the bed.
“There, you can sleep at this end tonight. Okay?” she asked. Brayden nodded, and she patted the mattress. He climbed in, and she knelt on the floor beside him and tucked the top blanket around him.
“We’re gonna be okay here,” she said, pushing his hair from his eyes. “I promise. And I don’t break my promises, right?” He shook his head. “Go to sleep now.”
Janie watched him close his eyes, then pressed her lips to his forehead and snuck out of the room.
A loud thud echoed down the hallway just as she was pulling the door shut behind her. She turned towards the sound, moonlight streaming in through the windows, creating a path through unfamiliar terrain. At the end of the hallway was a curved entryway, the few steps leading upwards visible only thanks to the light from the wall sconce. Evie and Louise had given her the full tour once Janie had composed herself—the kitchen, the dining room, the classrooms. They’d even pointed out each of the caretakers’ rooms. But they hadn’t mentioned that there was a fourth floor. Janie was certain there wasn’t another staircase like this in the west wing—only a single window at the back of the hallway.
Another thud sounded from upstairs, like something being dropped onto the floor above her.
Janie turned to head back to her room. Curiosity only got her into trouble, and if she really wanted to explore, she could do so tomorrow in the free time after breakfast. It had been a big day—a long day—and it was so far past their curfew. She needed to sleep. It had been so long since she’d slept through the night, and maybe now that there were others to watch over Brayden…
A light tune drifted towards her, stopping her just as she reached the balcony that wrapped around the main stairs dividing the two wings of the house. Whistling. Five notes, repeated over and over and over again—sometimes quick and upbeat before morphing into something melancholy and lonely and familiar.
Janie followed the sound and peeked around the open doorway, glancing up the narrow staircase. A door was edged open at the top, a dim light sliding past and casting shadows on the teal walls. She ran her hand along the walls as she climbed, the smooth wood of the stairs feeling cool on her bare feet. The whistling stopped as she was halfway up, and she paused, but then another thud sounded and the whistling resumed. When she reached the landing, she peeked into the room.
It wasn’t what she expected.
She didn’t know what she expected, but it certainly wasn’t this.
A single brass bed was set against the far wall, a nightstand and lamp beside it. Mismatched rugs covered the hardwood floors, and to her left, heavy curtains with a thin, silver-threaded design pooled on the ground. A light shaped like a lantern hung from the middle of the ceiling, and to her right beneath the eaves a low bookcase wrapped around the corner of the room, a boy in navy blue pajamas sitting cross-legged in front of it, piles of books surrounding him.
Janie jumped when she saw him staring at her and stepped back towards the door.
“Don’t go,” he said. His voice was deeper than she expected it to be, and she realized he might be older than she first realized. His blond hair looked red in the light, like it had always seen the sun, and there was a spattering of brown freckles across his nose. “You don’t have to go.”
About the Author
Susan Pogorzelski is the award-winning author of Gold in the Days of Summer and The Last Letter. When she’s not writing novels of nostalgia and the magic of everyday life, she works as a consultant and editor at Brown Beagle Books, is an intuitive energy practitioner at Susan Dawn Spiritual Connections, and is the founder of LymeBrave Foundation. She lives in South-Central Pennsylvania with her beloved family and pets.
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