giggled. "Why do you do it crooked?" she asked.
"I can't help it! The needle just goes crooked when I try to do it. And look: those are bloodstains. I keep jabbing myself.
"I wish I could be Charles," I muttered gloomily.
Jess wrinkled her nose. "
Charles!
Why on earth would you want to be Charles?"
I put my embroidery down, put a cushion from the wicker chair over it so that I wouldn't have to look at it, and watched a tiny spider move slowly up and down a nearly invisible thread from the ceiling of the porch.
"Probably he never ever has to take a bath."
"Don't be silly. Tatie must make him take baths. Tatie's very clean."
"Well, dirt doesn't show on him the way it does on me."
"
I
wouldn't want to be Charles. Probably he lives in a very little house. Probably he is very poor."
"That doesn't matter. He has more
fun
than I do. He says that when he's at home he can do almost anything he wants."
"Like what?"
"There's a dump near where he lives. Sometimes he goes to the dump and finds stuff. Once he found an old broken typewriter."
Jess made a face. "Who'd want an old broken typewriter?"
"Me."
"I wouldn't go to a dump anyway. I'd be scared."
"But not if you were a boy, Jess! Boys aren't scared. Charles isn't scared of anything. Charles wants to go up to the woods at the end of Autumn Street sometime, and I'm even scared to do that."
"You're not allowed to go that far anyway."
I sighed. "Even if I
could
, I'd be scared."
"Me too. But maybe when Daddy comes home from the war, he'll take us to the woods."
"We'll be
old
by then."
Jess sighed, too, when I said that. The war seemed to be going on forever. Summer seemed to be going on forever. Maybe I would be six years old forever.
"Liz," asked Jess suddenly, "have you ever heard of someone named Ferdie Gossett?"
Ferdie Gossett. I
had
heard of him. Charles had said "Let's scare Ferdie Gossett" when we still had the knife.
"Yes," I told her. "Charles said he's a crazy man who walks around town and talks to himself. Did you
see
him, Jess?"
Jessica nodded. "I went to the grocery store with Anne, and..."
"Oh, I
wish
I could cross streets, Jess!"
"When you start first grade you'll have to cross streets. That won't be very long. Anyway, Anne and I went down to the grocery store to get some eggs for her mother, because her mother wanted to make a cake. It was Anne's brother's birthday..."
"Jess. Tell about Ferdie Gossett!"
"I
am.
Right there at the grocery storeânot inside the store, but outside, Liz, looking through the
trash
out in backâwas this man with hair that I bet he has never combed in his whole entire life, and clothes so dirty that you can't imagine..."
"Was he talking to himself?"
Jess thought. "Yes, I think he was. But there was a cat, there, by the trash cans. Maybe he was talking to the cat."
"What was he saying?"
"I couldn't understand what he was saying. But he looked right at Anne and me when we came out of the store. He looked right at us. We ran. We almost dropped the eggs."
"Did he look at you as if he was friendly, or mean?"
"Neither one. As if he didn't even see us. As if he looked through us. It was really scary."
"How did you know his name?"
"Anne told me. She said he comes around the school a lot and stands by the playground, watching the kids. Everybody knows his name."
She started her embroidery again. I thought for a long time, about Ferdie Gossett.
"You know what, Jess? Probably he had a little child who died."
"
Died?
"
"Yes, because children die sometimes. Like Noah. And probably Ferdie Gossett's child died, and he feels so sad that he never combs his hair, and he likes to go and look at children playing."
"Well, maybe." Jess seemed dubious.
"I wouldn't be scared of him if I saw him. I think I would probably smile at him so he would feel better." I practiced a small, sad, piteous smile.
"I wouldn't." Jess shuddered.
"But it would be nice to have Charles with me, when I see Ferdie Gossett," I said. "Because
"I can't help it! The needle just goes crooked when I try to do it. And look: those are bloodstains. I keep jabbing myself.
"I wish I could be Charles," I muttered gloomily.
Jess wrinkled her nose. "
Charles!
Why on earth would you want to be Charles?"
I put my embroidery down, put a cushion from the wicker chair over it so that I wouldn't have to look at it, and watched a tiny spider move slowly up and down a nearly invisible thread from the ceiling of the porch.
"Probably he never ever has to take a bath."
"Don't be silly. Tatie must make him take baths. Tatie's very clean."
"Well, dirt doesn't show on him the way it does on me."
"
I
wouldn't want to be Charles. Probably he lives in a very little house. Probably he is very poor."
"That doesn't matter. He has more
fun
than I do. He says that when he's at home he can do almost anything he wants."
"Like what?"
"There's a dump near where he lives. Sometimes he goes to the dump and finds stuff. Once he found an old broken typewriter."
Jess made a face. "Who'd want an old broken typewriter?"
"Me."
"I wouldn't go to a dump anyway. I'd be scared."
"But not if you were a boy, Jess! Boys aren't scared. Charles isn't scared of anything. Charles wants to go up to the woods at the end of Autumn Street sometime, and I'm even scared to do that."
"You're not allowed to go that far anyway."
I sighed. "Even if I
could
, I'd be scared."
"Me too. But maybe when Daddy comes home from the war, he'll take us to the woods."
"We'll be
old
by then."
Jess sighed, too, when I said that. The war seemed to be going on forever. Summer seemed to be going on forever. Maybe I would be six years old forever.
"Liz," asked Jess suddenly, "have you ever heard of someone named Ferdie Gossett?"
Ferdie Gossett. I
had
heard of him. Charles had said "Let's scare Ferdie Gossett" when we still had the knife.
"Yes," I told her. "Charles said he's a crazy man who walks around town and talks to himself. Did you
see
him, Jess?"
Jessica nodded. "I went to the grocery store with Anne, and..."
"Oh, I
wish
I could cross streets, Jess!"
"When you start first grade you'll have to cross streets. That won't be very long. Anyway, Anne and I went down to the grocery store to get some eggs for her mother, because her mother wanted to make a cake. It was Anne's brother's birthday..."
"Jess. Tell about Ferdie Gossett!"
"I
am.
Right there at the grocery storeânot inside the store, but outside, Liz, looking through the
trash
out in backâwas this man with hair that I bet he has never combed in his whole entire life, and clothes so dirty that you can't imagine..."
"Was he talking to himself?"
Jess thought. "Yes, I think he was. But there was a cat, there, by the trash cans. Maybe he was talking to the cat."
"What was he saying?"
"I couldn't understand what he was saying. But he looked right at Anne and me when we came out of the store. He looked right at us. We ran. We almost dropped the eggs."
"Did he look at you as if he was friendly, or mean?"
"Neither one. As if he didn't even see us. As if he looked through us. It was really scary."
"How did you know his name?"
"Anne told me. She said he comes around the school a lot and stands by the playground, watching the kids. Everybody knows his name."
She started her embroidery again. I thought for a long time, about Ferdie Gossett.
"You know what, Jess? Probably he had a little child who died."
"
Died?
"
"Yes, because children die sometimes. Like Noah. And probably Ferdie Gossett's child died, and he feels so sad that he never combs his hair, and he likes to go and look at children playing."
"Well, maybe." Jess seemed dubious.
"I wouldn't be scared of him if I saw him. I think I would probably smile at him so he would feel better." I practiced a small, sad, piteous smile.
"I wouldn't." Jess shuddered.
"But it would be nice to have Charles with me, when I see Ferdie Gossett," I said. "Because
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