minute Mr. Prakins left the room, Logan again whispered: “I'm sorry it happened that way, but you said it wrong. Your mother isn't dead in a cemetery she's passed into the great beyond, into a better place, into heaven.”
“If there is a heaven or a hell, I've been thinking it's right here on earth.”
“How old are you anyway, one hundred and twenty?”
“You know I'm thirteen!” I flared angrily. “Just feeling two hundred and fifty today.”
“Why?” "Because it's better than feeling thirteen, that's
why!"
Logan cleared his throat, glanced at Mr. Prakins, who kept his eyes on us through a glass wall, and risked another whisper, “Would it be all right if I walked you home today? I've never talked to anyone as old as two hundred and fifty, and you've got my curiosity aroused. I'd sure like to hear what you have to say.”
I nodded, feeling a bit sick as well as exuberant. Now I'd tricked myself into a situation that might disappoint him with only ordinary answers. What did I know about wisdom, old age, or anything else?
Still, he showed up on the edge of the schoolyard, where all the boys walking home with hill girls waited until their choices showed up. And there stood Fanny.
She spun about, flinging her hair over her face, then tossed it back, whipping around to make it fan out in a circle; grinning broadly when she saw Logan, as if she thought he was coming for her. A short distance from Fanny stood Tom and Keith. Tom
seemed surprised to find Logan waiting near our trail. Ours was just a faint path through the underbrush that led to the woods, and eventually to only our cabin nearest the sky. The minute Fanny saw Logan and me heading for our trail she let out a whoop so loud and embarrassing I wanted to drop dead.
“Heaven, what ya doin with that new boy? Ya know ya don't like boys! Ain't ya done said a million times yer neva gonna be nothin but a dried-up ole schoolteacher?”
I tried to ignore Fanny, though my face turned beet-red. What kind of sisterly loyalty was she showing anyway? I knew better than to expect tact. I tried to smile at Logan. It was always best to ignore Fanny, if possible.
Logan stared at her with disapproval, as did
Tom.
“Fanny, please don't say one more word,” I said uncomfortably. “Just run along home, and start the wash for a change.”
“I neva have t'walk home with only a brotha,” Fanny said to Logan in a sneering way before she turned on her most brilliant smile. “Boys don't like Heaven, they always like me. Ya'll like me, too. Ya wanna hold my hand?”
Logan glanced at me, at Tom, and then said seriously to Fanny, “Thank you, but right now I'm intent on seeing Heaven home, and hearing all that she has to tell me.”
“Ya should hear me sing!” “Another time, Fanny, I'll listen to you sing.” “Our Jane sings . .” said Keith faintly. “She sure does!” exclaimed Tom, seizing Fanny
by the arm and pulling her along with him. “Come along, Keith. Our Jane is home waiting for you.” That's all
Keith needed to hear to hurry after Tom, for Our Jane had missed school today due to another tummyache and a fever.
Fanny broke away from Tom and came running back to scowl and yell before she stuck out her tongue. “Yer selfish, Heaven Leigh Casteel! Mean, skinny, an ugly too! Hate yer hair! Hate yer silly name! Hate yer everythin! I do! Ya just wait till I tell Pa what yer doin! Pa won't like ya fer takin charity from some strange city boy who pities ya--eatin his hamburgers an stuff, an teachin Our Jane an Keith t'beg!”
Oh, now Fanny was at her worst, jealous, spiteful, and apt to do just what she threatened, and Pa
would punish me! “Fanny,” called Tom, running to catch her.
“You can have my new watercolor set if you keep yer trap shut about Logan taking all of us to lunch . . .”
Instantly Fanny smiled. “All right! I want that color-in book Miss Deale gave ya, too! Don't know why she don't give me nothin!”
“You don't
“If there is a heaven or a hell, I've been thinking it's right here on earth.”
“How old are you anyway, one hundred and twenty?”
“You know I'm thirteen!” I flared angrily. “Just feeling two hundred and fifty today.”
“Why?” "Because it's better than feeling thirteen, that's
why!"
Logan cleared his throat, glanced at Mr. Prakins, who kept his eyes on us through a glass wall, and risked another whisper, “Would it be all right if I walked you home today? I've never talked to anyone as old as two hundred and fifty, and you've got my curiosity aroused. I'd sure like to hear what you have to say.”
I nodded, feeling a bit sick as well as exuberant. Now I'd tricked myself into a situation that might disappoint him with only ordinary answers. What did I know about wisdom, old age, or anything else?
Still, he showed up on the edge of the schoolyard, where all the boys walking home with hill girls waited until their choices showed up. And there stood Fanny.
She spun about, flinging her hair over her face, then tossed it back, whipping around to make it fan out in a circle; grinning broadly when she saw Logan, as if she thought he was coming for her. A short distance from Fanny stood Tom and Keith. Tom
seemed surprised to find Logan waiting near our trail. Ours was just a faint path through the underbrush that led to the woods, and eventually to only our cabin nearest the sky. The minute Fanny saw Logan and me heading for our trail she let out a whoop so loud and embarrassing I wanted to drop dead.
“Heaven, what ya doin with that new boy? Ya know ya don't like boys! Ain't ya done said a million times yer neva gonna be nothin but a dried-up ole schoolteacher?”
I tried to ignore Fanny, though my face turned beet-red. What kind of sisterly loyalty was she showing anyway? I knew better than to expect tact. I tried to smile at Logan. It was always best to ignore Fanny, if possible.
Logan stared at her with disapproval, as did
Tom.
“Fanny, please don't say one more word,” I said uncomfortably. “Just run along home, and start the wash for a change.”
“I neva have t'walk home with only a brotha,” Fanny said to Logan in a sneering way before she turned on her most brilliant smile. “Boys don't like Heaven, they always like me. Ya'll like me, too. Ya wanna hold my hand?”
Logan glanced at me, at Tom, and then said seriously to Fanny, “Thank you, but right now I'm intent on seeing Heaven home, and hearing all that she has to tell me.”
“Ya should hear me sing!” “Another time, Fanny, I'll listen to you sing.” “Our Jane sings . .” said Keith faintly. “She sure does!” exclaimed Tom, seizing Fanny
by the arm and pulling her along with him. “Come along, Keith. Our Jane is home waiting for you.” That's all
Keith needed to hear to hurry after Tom, for Our Jane had missed school today due to another tummyache and a fever.
Fanny broke away from Tom and came running back to scowl and yell before she stuck out her tongue. “Yer selfish, Heaven Leigh Casteel! Mean, skinny, an ugly too! Hate yer hair! Hate yer silly name! Hate yer everythin! I do! Ya just wait till I tell Pa what yer doin! Pa won't like ya fer takin charity from some strange city boy who pities ya--eatin his hamburgers an stuff, an teachin Our Jane an Keith t'beg!”
Oh, now Fanny was at her worst, jealous, spiteful, and apt to do just what she threatened, and Pa
would punish me! “Fanny,” called Tom, running to catch her.
“You can have my new watercolor set if you keep yer trap shut about Logan taking all of us to lunch . . .”
Instantly Fanny smiled. “All right! I want that color-in book Miss Deale gave ya, too! Don't know why she don't give me nothin!”
“You don't
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