Read Online One Day and One Amazing Morning on Orange Street by Joanne Rocklin - Free Book Online Page A

hifflesnuffle meant. Ali had had a sudden insight, which may have had something to do with Robert’s pink ears.
    Hifflesnuffle: hif-ul-snuful (v.) -snuffled, -snuffling, -snuffles. (tr).
To like someone when that someone doesn’t like you back.
    â€œWhat’s in the shoebox?” Ali asked kindly.
    Robert looked up from the
OED
, startled. “Shoebox?”
    There she was.
Wow, oh, wow
, thought Robert. The old Ali! His former orange juice–selling business partner, his fellow astronaut in space, on whom his very life had once depended, standing right in front of him, as if she’d never gone away.
    â€œThat one,” said Ali, pointing to the big shoebox on the floor by the dictionary stand. “What’s in it?”
    â€œOh, nothing,” said Robert. “Nothing,
yet
.”
    â€œOK.” said Ali, shrugging. And
poof
! The old Ali disappeared into thin air, right before Robert’s eyes.
    Maybe a hint of magic would impress her, since she was always wowed by Magic Manny’s stuff, Robert thought. He put down the magnifying glass. “By the way,” he said to Ms. Snoops, “you know that book you lent me? Do you mind if I keep it for a while longer?”
    â€œWhich book?” asked Ms. Snoops.
    â€œYou know,
Incredible Magic Tricks for a Rainy Day
. It’s really great.”
    Oops
, thought Robert. Ms. Snoops was pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about! He shouldn’t have brought it up. Maybe the book was so special, Ms. Snoops wanted to keep it a secret, sort of like a pact between the two of them.
    â€œOh, is that a book of mine? Sure, keep it as long as you like,” Ms. Snoops said.
    â€œThanks,” said Robert, and winked.
    Ms. Snoops smiled and winked back.
    Ali hurriedly gathered up her treasures from the coffee table. “I have to go now,” she said. “Leandra and I have something to discuss, and soon Edgar will be waking up from his nap and asking for me.” Oh, how she wished
that
was true!
    Then Ms. Snoops said something that made Ali’s sleepinginvisible, theoretical angel suddenly awaken—and sit up straight.
    â€œWho’s Edgar?” Ms. Snoops asked.
    The invisible, theoretical angel began whispering furiously in Ali’s ear, and Ali realized something she’d known all along, but hadn’t really known she’d known. The thought made her sit down slowly on Ms. Snoops’s orange and green striped sofa.
    Ms. Snoops’s memory, whispered the angel, was like the lacy antimacassars on the orange and green striped sofa’s arms. Ms. Snoops’s memory had little holes in it, here and there, where facts slipped through and disappeared: people’s names, titles of books, answers to questions Ms. Snoops had to keep asking, over and over. But then there were the parts of her memory with no holes at all—those would make her memoirs grow fatter and fatter . . . all those stories, all those historical and scientific facts she knew, all those wonderful words she remembered.
Naranga! Infrangible!
It was so confusing, and so, so sad.
    Now it was Ali’s turn to hug Ms. Snoops.
    â€œEdgar is my little brother,” Ali said. “But I promise I’ll be back soon, to read those memoirs you were going to write. I’ll help you remember.”
    â€œThat would be lovely,” said Ms. Snoops. “And a nap sounds likes a good idea right about now.”
    â€œI guess I’ll go now, too,” said Robert. “May I please borrow your fruit-picker pole? I’d like to pick some more of the oranges, the ones you said were extra-special.” He winked at Ms. Snoops again.
    â€œI’ll give you some of mine! No need to pick them your-self,” said Ms. Snoops, winking back at him. She filled a paper bag for both Robert and Ali from a big bowl of oranges on her coffee table. “These are the tree’s sweetest oranges,” she said. “The