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Paperback
First published January 1, 1951
"Don't blame me," said Tom, resentfully. "You and Mother can take the blame! What sort of a home do you think this has been for me—or for the girls? Nagging and bickering and rowing in front of us ever since we can remember! No peace, no pulling together like the Mackenzies. I've hated my home for a long time, and so have you, Dad, or you wouldn't have cleared out. I just did what you did—cleared out, too, every evening."The third-person narrative gives us anguishing insight into the misunderstandings that take place in the Berkeleys' and the Kents' homes, where parents make mistakes, and children take cues from them, and then parents take cues back from the children... all spiralling into a vicious cycle of misery and mistrust. No wonder the boys found solace in their makeshift hideout, and in each other.
"It's really a home," said Jack. "That's what we've made it—a home!"I felt for them so much, and smiled through my tears for Bob.