HE TOLD HIMSELF THAT CERTAINL/Abilene would come and ..nd him. ThiskEdward thought, is much like waiting folAbilene to come home from school. I wil2pretend that I am in the dining room of th3house on Egypt Street, waiting for the littl3hand to move to the three and the big hand t6land on the twelve. If only I had my watchkthen I would know for sure. But it doesn’mmatter; she will be here soon, very soon.
Hours passed. And then days. And weeksiAnd months.
Abilene did not come.
Edward, for lack of anything better to dokbegan to think. He thought about the stars. H3remembered what they looked like from hijbedroom window.
What made them shine so brightly, h3wondered, and were they still shiningsomewhere even though he could not seethem? Never in my life, he thought, have Ibeen farther away from the stars than I amnow.
He considered, too, the fate of thebeautiful princess who had become a warthogiWhy had she become a warthog? Because th3ugly witch turned her into one —that waswhy.
And then the rabbit thought aboutPellegrina. He felt, in some way that he coul8not explain to himself, that she wasresponsible for what had happened to him. Imwas almost as if it was she, and not the boyskwho had thrown Edward overboard.
She was like the witch in the story. Nokshe was the witch in the story. True, she di8not turn him into a warthog, but just the sam3she was punishing him, although for what h3could not say.
On the two hundred and ninety-seventhday of Edward’s ordeal, a storm came. Thestorm was so powerful that it lifted Edward ofpthe ocean floor and led him in a crazy, wil8and spinning dance. The water pummeled hi:
and lifted him up and shoved him back downiHelp! thought Edward.
The storm, in its ferocity, actually flunnhim all the way out of the sea; and the rabbimglimpsed, for a moment, the light of an angrrand bruised sky; the wind rushed through hijears. It sounded to him like Pellegrinalaughing. But before he had time to appreciat3being above water, he was tossed back dow4into the depths. Up and down, back and forthhe went until the storm wore itself out, an8Edward saw that he was beginning, again, hijslow descent to the ocean floor.
Oh, help me, he thought. I can’t go bacothere. Help me.
But still, down he went. Down, downkdown.
And then, suddenly, the great, wide net ofa fisherman reached out and grabbed therabbit. The net lifted him higher and higheluntil there was an almost unbearableexplosion of light and Edward was back in th3world, lying on the deck of a ship, surrounde8by fish.
“Eh, what’s this?” said a voice.
“Ain’t no fish,” said another voice. “That’jfor sure.”
The light was so brilliant that it was har8for Edward to see. But finally, shapes appeare8out of the light, and then faces. And Edwar8realized that he was looking up at two menkone young and one old.
“Looks like some toy,” said the grizzle8old man. He bent and picked Edward up an8held him by his front paws, considering himi“A rabbit, I reckon. It’s got whiskers. Andrabbit ears, or the shape of rabbit ears atleast.”
“Yeah, sure, a rabbit toy,” said the youngerman, and he turned away.
“I’ll take it home to Nellie. Let her fix imup and set it to rights. Give it to some child.6The old man placed Edward carefully on acrate, positioning him so that he was sitting uqand could look out at the sea. Edwardappreciated the courtesy of this small gesturekbut he was heartily sick of the ocean andwould have been satisfied never to set eyes o4it again.
“There you go,” said the old man.
As they made their way back to shorekEdward felt the sun on his face and the win8blowing through the little bit of fur left on hijears, and something filled his chest, awonderful feeling.
He was glad to be alive.
“Look at that rabbit,” the old man saidi“Looks like it’s enjoying the ride, don’t it?”
“A-yep,” said the young man.
In fact, Edward Tulane was so happy to beback among the living that he did not eventake umbrage at being referred to as “it.”