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It's been over a year since Omri discovered in The Indian in the Cupboard that, with the turn of a key, he could magically bring to life the three-inch-high Indian figure he placed inside his cupboard. Omri and his Indian, Little Bear, create a fantastic world together until one day, Omri realizes the terrible consequences if Little Bear ever got trapped in his "giant" world. Reluctantly, Omri sends the Indian back through the cupboard, giving his mother the magic key to wear around her neck so that he will never...
It's been over a year since Omri discovered in The Indian in the Cupboard that, with the turn of a key, he could magically bring to life the three-inch-high Indian figure he placed inside his cupboard. Omri and his Indian, Little Bear, create a fantastic world together until one day, Omri realizes the terrible consequences if Little Bear ever got trapped in his "giant" world. Reluctantly, Omri sends the Indian back through the cupboard, giving his mother the magic key to wear around her neck so that he will never be tempted to bring Little Bear back to life.
But one year later, full of exciting news, Omri gives way to temptation when he finds that his mother has left the magic key lying on the bathroom sink.
A whole new series of adventures awaits Omri as he discovers that his Indian has been critically wounded during the French and Indian Wars and desperately needs Omri's help.
Now, helplessly caught between his own life and his cupboard life of war and death, Omri must act decisively if he is to save Little Bear and his village from being completely destroyed. What began as a harmless game has tumed into a horrible nightmare, a nightmare in which Omri is irrevocably involved, and from which he may never escape.
A year after he sends his Indian friend, Little Bear, back into the magic cupboard, Omri decides to bring him back, only to find that he is close to death and in need of help. Sequel to "The Indian in the Cupboard."
Omri emerged cautiously from the station into Hove Road.
Someone with a sense of humor and a black spray can had recently added an L to the word "Hove" on the street sign on the corner, making it "Hovel Road." Omri thought grimly that this was much more appropriate than "Hove," which sounded pleasantly like somewhere by the sea. Omri would have liked to live by the sea, or indeed almost anywhere in the world rather than Hovel Road. He had done his best to understand why his parents had decided to move here from the other house in the other, much nicer, neighborhood. True, the new house was larger, and so was the garden. But the area was a slum.
Omri's father objected strongly to Omri's calling it a slum. But then, he had a car. He didn't have to walk half a mile along Hovel Road to the station every day, as Omri did to get to school, and again—as now—to get home in the gloomy afternoon. It was October and the clocks had gone back. That meant that when he came out of the station it was practically dark.
Omri was only one of many children walking, playing or hanging around in Hovel Road at this hour, but he was the only one who wore school uniform. Of course he took his blazer and tie off in the train and stuffed them into his schoolbag, but that still left his white shirt, black trousers and gray pullover. However he mussed them up, he still stood out among the others he had to pass through.
These others all went to a local school where uniform was not required. Under other circumstances, Omri would have begged his parents to let him change schools. At least then he wouldn't have been an obvious outsider. Or maybe he would. He couldn't imagine going to school with these kids. After a term and a half of running the gauntlet of their mindless antagonism every working day, he regarded them as little better than a pack of wolves.
That group waiting for him on the corner by the amusement arcade. He knew them by now, and they knew him. They waited for him if they had nothing better to do. His passing seemed to be one of the highlights of their day. Their faces positively lit up asthey saw him approach. It took all his courage to keep walking towards them. At moments like this, he would remember Little Bear. Little Bear had been only a fraction of Omri's size, and yet he had stood up to him. If he had felt scared, as Omri did now, he never showed it. Omri was not that much smaller than these boys. There were just so many of them, and only one of him. But imagine if they'd been giants, as he was to Little Bear! They were nothing but kids like himself, although several years older. Except that they weren't like him. "They're rats," he thought, to rouse himself for battle. "Pigs. Toads. Mad dogs." It would be shameful to let them see he was afraid of them. He gripped his schoolbag tightly by both handles and came on.
If only he had had Boone's revolver, or Little Bear's knife, or his bow and arrows, or his ax. If only he could fight like a cowboy or an Indian brave! How he would show that crew then!
The boy he had to pass first was a skinhead, like several of the others. The cropped head made him look somehow animal-like. He had a flat, whitish face and about five gold rings in one ear. Omri should have detoured a bit to be out of range, but he would not swerve from his path. The skinhead's boot shot out, but Omri was expecting that and skipped over it. Then a concerted movement by the others jerked Omri into evasive action. Speed was his only hope. He broke into a run, hampered by his heavy bag.
Several hands reached out to grab him as he passed. One caught and held fast. He swung the bag and it hit home. The boy released his hold, doubled over and said, "Uuoogh!" It reminded Omri of the time Little Bear had fought Boone, the cowboy, and got kicked in the stomach—he'd made the same noise.
Someone else clutched Omri's flying shirttail and he jerked away hard and heard it rip. He swung around with his bag again, missed, found himself turning in a circle after the bag. There was the sound of jeering laughter. He felt hot rage flood under his skin. He was roused now, he wanted to stop, to fight; but he saw their sneering, idiot faces. That was all they were waiting for. They would beat him up—they'd done it once before and he had stumbled home with a bloody nose and a shoulder bruised from the pavement, and one shoe missing. His schoolbag, too. He'd had to go back (Adiel, the elder of his two brothers, had gone with him) and found all his books scattered and the bag torn and half full of garbage.
An experience like that taught you something. He fled, hating himself but hating his enemies worse. They didn't pursue him. That would have been too much trouble. But their shouts and jeers followed him all the way to his gate.
As he turned into it, he slowed down. He was on safe ground here. It was a different world. The property had a high hedge which shut it off from the street. The house was a nice house, Omri didn't deny that. He could see into the warm, well-lit living room, with its familiar furniture and lamps and ornaments and pictures.
His mother was in there, just putting a match to the open fire. Omri paused in the twilight to watch. He loved to see the flames. These, too, reminded him of Little Bear and the tiny fires he had made outside his tepee, the love dance he had done aroundhis fire when he had married Bright Stars . . . Omri sighed. It was over a year since that time. But not a single day had passed without his thinking about his Indian and all the astonishing adventures they had had together.
Omri had grown up quite a bit in the meantime. There had been moments when he would almost have liked to believe that he'd made the whole thing up. A plastic Indian coming alive—absurd! He had tried to push it to the back of his mind, but it wouldn't be pushed. It was as vividly real to him as if it had happened this morning.
The little bathroom cupboard. His special key, which his mother had given him. And magic. The magic that brought plastic people to life . . . It had happened, all of it . . . And yet, three days ago, Patrick had behaved in that peculiar way. It had shaken Omri, shaken his belief in his own memory.
Posted May 24, 2012
Posted May 31, 2012
Posted March 9, 2012
My reviewof the return of the indian is great.the return of the indian was a delightfull book that i had to read for this thing called battle of the books. This story is a really good book for kids 8-14. It tells about how friends help friends out all the time no matter what they go thourgh. It tells about and adventure inclife and i really think some kids will enjoy this book. So.......... read this book or buy it for your kids they will love it. Written by ania
3 out of 4 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted February 1, 2012
Posted January 15, 2012
Posted January 6, 2000
Posted September 13, 2013
Posted August 10, 2012
I loved this book! It was a little better than the indian and the cuboard. But I loved them both and I can't wait to read the next one!
2 out of 4 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted May 21, 2012
Posted December 28, 2011
Posted March 16, 2010
When I reviewed The Indian in the Cupboard I gave it a good rating. There are several sequels, the first of which is The Return of the Indian, where Omri decides to bring Little Bear back for one last time. However, the Indian has been shot in a French and Algonquin raid on his Iroquois village and is dying. Omri and his friend Patrick must bring a plastic nurse figure to life in an attempt to save him. Then Little Bear demands that they bring a more modern army with deadlier weapons to life in an attempt to go back and save his village. What starts out as an attempt to help turns into a horrible nightmare.
2 out of 3 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 4, 2013
Posted February 3, 2013
Posted January 28, 2013
Posted January 20, 2013
From the first page to the last, I was enthralled in this book! I remember reading the prequel "The Indian in the Cupboard" and thinking that it was a nice enough story, but it didn't leave a big impression on me. On the other hand, reading "The Return of the Indian" took Omri's amazing story to a completely different level.
There's so much adventure and excitement packed into this one book. I almost couldn't stand the suspense in certain parts!
It's the Perfect read for anyone who likes a bit of thrilling action!
1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted January 25, 2006
The name of the book I¿m reviewing is The Return of the Indian by Lynne Reid Banks. I think this book deserves five stars because it is full of mystery and suspense. This book is about a boy named Omri who vowed to never use his magic cupboard again, which has the power to turn plastic figures alive! But they¿re not just living toys they¿re real people from different times! Omri does bring his plastic Indian, named Little Bear, and his friend Patrick¿s plastic cowboy named Boone. They have many exciting and dangerous adventures together. I recommend this book to anyone who read the first book, The Indian in the Cupboard.
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Posted June 19, 2014
Posted June 30, 2013
Posted May 8, 2013
Posted February 25, 2013