Test: Going Home

Three boys and three girls are going to Florida and when they boarded the bus, they were carrying sandwiches and wine in paper bags, dream/ dreaming/ to dream of golden beaches and sea tides as the gray cold of New York v__2__ behind them.

As the bus r__3__ south, they began to notice Vingo. He c__4__ the inside of his lip a lot, frozen into some personal c__5__ of silence.

Deep into/ at/ on the night, outside Washington, the bus pulled into/ at/ on a roadside restaurant, and everybody got off except Vingo. He sat rooted in his seat, and the young people began to wonder about him, trying to imagine his life: perhaps he was a sea c__8__, a r__9__ from his wife, an old s__10__ going home. When they went back to the bus, one of the girls sat beside him and i__11__ herself.

“Want some wine?” she said. He smiled and took a s__12__. He thanked her and r__13__ again into his silence. After a while, she went back to the others, and Vingo nodded in sleep.

In the morning, they awoke outside another restaurant, and this time Vingo went in. The girl i__14__ that he join them. He seemed very shy, and ordered black coffee and smoked nervously as the young people c__15__ about sleeping on beaches. When they returned to the bus, the girl sat with Vingo again, and after a while, slowly and painfully, he told his story. He had been in jail in New York for the past four years, and now he was going home.

“When I was in the can I wrote to my wife,” he said. “I told her that I was going to be away a long time, and that if she couldn’t stand it, she could just forget me. I told her she didn’t have to write me. And she didn’t. Not for three and a half years.”

"Last week, when I was sure the p__16__ was coming through, I wrote her again. There’s a big oak tree just as you come into town. I told her that if she’d take me back, she should put a yellow h__17__ on the tree, and I’d get off and come home. If she didn’t want me, forget it—no handkerchief, and I’d go on through.”

She told the others, and soon all of them were in it, caught up/ at/ on in the approach of Vingo’s hometown, looking at the pictures he showed them of his wife and three children—the woman handsome in a p__19__ way, the children still unformed in the cracked, much-handled s__20__.

Now they were 20 miles from the town, and the young people took over window seats on the right side, waiting for the a__21__ of the great oak tree. The bus a__22__ a dark, h__23__ mood, full of the silence of a__24__ and lost years. Vingo stopped looking, tightening his face into the ex-con’s mask, as if f__25__ himself against still another disappointment.

Suddenly, all of the young people were up out of their seats, screaming and shouting and crying, doing small dances of e__26__. All except Vingo.

The Oak tree was covered with maybe hundreds of yellow handkerchiefs. As the young people shouted, the old con rose from his seat and made his way to the front of the bus and go home.