October

by J. Grace Pennington

  “Once upon a time,” she began, “there was a beautiful girl named Hadassah who lived with her cousin.”

  “That’s a funny name,” a little girl with dark brown pigtails commented.

  “Shh,” Tobi ordered gently. “She lived with her cousin, who was much older than her. He had taken care of her ever since her parents died when she was a little girl. They lived in a very big, very beautiful city—but they didn’t want to be there. Because it wasn’t their home.”

  I instantly recognized the story of Esther, but the children didn’t. I watched her carefully as she spun the tale in her own words, marveling at the way she could hold a room full of children under the age of seven enraptured. Even I, who knew the story so well, found myself engaged by the spoken pictures she painted. A confused woman. A flawed king. An evil man, twisted by pride.

  The infant started talking unintelligibly, too young to understand the story. I shushed her, pulled my dragon necklace from under my blouse, and handed it to her to play with. She promptly put it in her mouth and sucked on it. I let her.

  The bell rang before the story was over, but Tobi said, “I’m almost finished,” and proceeded to tell how the descendants of the Jews were still alive today, and still celebrated the courage of their brave and beautiful queen.

  “The end.” Tobi smiled, and the children began to jump up and gather their belongings. “Have a nice day!”

  The children filed out in a big group, all talking at once and each trying to outshout the others. I wasn’t sure what to do with the pink thing, so I held her until a grown-up who I recognized as belonging to her came in and plucked her from my arms. The little thing waved at me with a toothy smile, and I waved back.

  Patrick Charles remained by my side, and Tobi puffed out a breath and dropped back against the desk.

  “Whew. That was a lot of kids.”

  I laughed.

  Chapter Five

  “And then, there was a bear chasing him, and he jumped up. And he jumped up so way up in the sky that he didn’t even reach the branch!” Patrick Charles giggled until his bite of sandwich nearly fell out of his mouth.

  “Mouth closed, Patrick Charles,” Mom commanded.

  He shut his mouth, chewed, then began talking again. “It was fun. Then she told us a story, and it was about Esther, you know, from the Bible? Only her name wasn’t Esther first, and there was a guy who wanted to kill all the Judes, but she saved them all.”

  “Jews,” I corrected.

  He ignored me. “I wish that Tobi could teach Sunday School every week. Freddy said it was the funnest Sunday School he’d ever had.”

  “Most fun,” I told him, but I gave him a second helping of chips. He might be an annoying little boy, but he now loved Tobi and he should be rewarded.

  “Tobi?” Dad questioned.

  “That’s what I call October,” I explained.

  Mom frowned. “Patrick Charles doesn’t need to call her that. She’s an adult, so you can refer to her as Miss Blake.”

  Patrick Charles pouted. “But Em calls her Tobi.”

  “Don’t argue with your mother,” Daddy insisted.

  Pouting a little, Patrick Charles went back to eating.

  A question had been festering in my mind, but this exchange made me hesitant. I’d thought that when Patrick Charles related his glowing description of Tobi’s teaching, Mom would be open to the idea of Tobi coming over sometime. Now, I wasn’t so sure.

  “Mom?” There was no harm in asking.

  “Yes?”

  “I was thinking... well, would you mind if October came over for dinner sometime? Can I invite her?”

  Mom looked at Daddy. “Fine with me,” he said.

  She looked back at me. “That should be fine. What night?”

  I wanted to blurt out, “Tomorrow!” but I didn’t think Mom would approve, so I just said, “Maybe... Wednesday or something?”

  “Sounds fine.”

  I smiled down into my glass of water. She was coming! And I knew that Mom would love her once she actually met her. She would have to. Mom didn’t always like my friends, but Tobi was so much different than anyone else.

  I had procured October’s cell phone number a few Sundays ago, but had avoided calling her because she had once told me she hated talking on the phone. This, however, was a special occasion. Surely she wouldn’t mind just for a few seconds.

  I rushed through my chores and as soon as I finished sweeping the kitchen floor I scurried up to my room, almost tripping over the stairs in my excitement. Tobi in my house. My guest. All mine for a whole evening.

  I flipped on a lamp in my room and searched my messy bulletin board for her number. Once I found it, I dialed it eagerly, then waited. It rang once, twice, three times, four times, five, then went to voicemail with automated instructions.

  “Hi, Tobi, it’s me. Emily. I wanted to see if you would like to come over for dinner on Wednesday. My mom says it’s fine, and I thought we could take a walk after. I could show you my room, too.” Show her my room? I sounded like a ten-year-old. “Anyway, let me know if you want to come. Talk to you later. Bye!”

  I hung up, then put the phone on my bed and stared at it.

  Why hadn’t she answered? She could have been busy, of course, but I had an instinct that she just didn’t want to answer the phone. After all, she didn’t know my number.

  It took less than a minute for my phone to ring, and I grabbed it and answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Em. It’s Tobi.”

  I grinned. “Hey.”

  “Sorry I didn’t answer. I didn’t recognize the number.”

  “Yeah, I figured. You telephobe.”

  “Telephobia is a perfectly legitimate condition,” she said with mock dignity. “All the best psychiatrists recognize it.”

  I giggled. “So?”

  “Dinner? Yes, I’d love to come, if you’re sure you want me.”

  What a ridiculous thing to say. “Of course I want you.”

  “Oh fine. Just trying to be polite. So. What are you up to tonight?”

  For all her insistence, she seemed to do just fine talking on the phone. We didn’t stop talking until midnight, when Daddy banged on the door and told me to go to bed.

  *****

  “Have you ever thought of joining the choir?” Tobi asked as she dried a plate.

  “What choir?” I asked, rinsing more dishes.

  “The church choir, silly,” she smiled.

  I frowned in surprise. “The church choir? But... it’s so... well...” I stopped to think, pausing and turning off the water for a moment.

  “So...?”

  “Well... I don’t know. Mrs. Tuttle leads it and she’s… always been a little scary. Besides, everybody in the choir is so... so old.”

  She laughed, and I didn’t even mind. Her laugh was hearty and spontaneous, seeming to escape from her elegance without clashing with it. “So what?”

  I shrugged, and turned the water back on. “I don’t know. It just seems kinda... weird.”

  “I think you have a lovely voice. You like to sing, don’t you?”

  “I love to sing!”

  She reached over and took a dish from me, then locked eyes with me for a moment. “Then let’s do it. Let’s join, Em.”

  “I’d have to check with Mom and Daddy...”

  “Oh of course!” She went on drying. “I meant if they say yes, of course.”

  I turned the water back on and stared out the window above the sink. I did love singing. And I would like a better glimpse of her voice than brief snippets I could make out during hymns at church.

  “Why the hesitation?” she asked, taking a bowl from me and drying it.

  I thought for another moment. “I guess mostly... it just... it doesn’t really seem like the kind of thing that’s done. Nobody’s ever joined it before, none of us kids, I mean.”

  “First time for everything!” she smiled. “I’m going to join. I think it wil
l be just lovely.”

  “I do love singing,” I pondered aloud.

  “Then you’ll ask your parents?”

  “Okay.” I smiled at her, and her return smile was so charming I mentally vowed that, barring impossibilities, I would join the choir.

  I washed a few more dishes, handing each one to her in turn.

  “Tobi?” I said at last.

  “Yes?”

  “You don’t ever talk about your parents.”

  She stopped, holding the towel to a glass tumbler without moving it. The clock on the other side of the room ticked.

  She was quiet and still for so long I started to worry that I’d offended her, but after a moment she went back to drying, studying the glass intensely. “No, I suppose I don’t.”

  An awkward silence followed, in which I tried to decide whether to pry further.

  She finished drying it and set it on the counter. “My father lives back in Chicago,” she said, reaching for another dish without looking up.

  I handed her a bowl. She took it and dried it. She reached for another dish.

  “And your mom?” I finished rinsing the last plate and gave it to her, then turned the water off.

  She dried it, each movement studied and precise. “She died, actually. A long time ago. I don’t really remember her too well.” She set the plate down, looked up, and smiled at me, normally sparkling eyes a bit dull.

  “Oh Tobi...” I didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.”

  She carefully folded the towel and laid it on the counter. “Thanks, Em. That’s sweet. But honestly, I didn’t really know her.”

  The clock kept ticking. I looked around the kitchen for more to clean and found nothing.

  She kept smiling. “Can we take that walk now?”

  We did, and stayed out past sunset.

  *****

  Mom and Daddy had no objection to the choir idea, so after church the next Sunday when my family had left and Jax had gone home to study, I found myself following along behind Tobi as she approached Mrs. Tuttle to ask about joining.

  Mrs. Tuttle had fiery red hair, much brighter than Tobi’s, and it was short and teased so that it stuck up every which way and truly did look like a fire. Her skin was a little too tanned and a tiny bit wrinkled, and she always wore colors like turquoise and fuchsia and hot pink.

  “Yes, my dears?” she asked. She lifted both of Tobi’s hands in hers and held them up a little. “My dear Miss Blake, what can I do for you?”

  Tobi seemed suddenly shy, as she always did around people she didn’t know well. But she held herself upright, and the only way I could tell that anything was different was that her voice was a little smaller, softer, and less like herself than usual. “Hello, yes... we were... that is, Emily and I were thinking of joining the choir. Would that be possible?”

  Mrs. Tuttle’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped a bit. She lifted Tobi’s hands higher. “My dear Miss Blake! Of course! How long I’ve dreamed of this day, wanting some young blood to freshen up the sacred music... my dear, I thank you!” She leaned forward and kissed Tobi on both cheeks.

  I couldn’t stifle a giggle. Like I’d said. Mrs. Tuttle had always seemed a little—scary.

  Tobi reddened. “Thank you. I mean... you’re welcome.”

  Mrs. Tuttle finally dropped Tobi’s hands and said, “Now. Details, of course!” She waved her hands as she talked. “Practice is Friday nights. At six p.m. Just come right on into the sanctuary.” She folded her hands in front of her and heaved in a deep breath, then looked fondly between the two of us. “How exciting.”

  “Yes... we’ll be there!” Tobi promised, then retreated, with me following behind her and giggling.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” she steamed.

  I laughed. “It was too much fun to watch.”

  “You’re supposed to be the extrovert.”

  “Ah, but you’re older.”

  “Mmmhmm.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Tobi laughed. “Well, we’re in now. I hope you’re happy.”

  “Me? Why October Blake!”

  She smirked at me, then headed for the exit. I grinned and rushed after her.

  We chattered about our plans as we walked through the church. I would pick Tobi up on Friday evening after school so that we could go together, and then we could have a sleepover at my house afterwards. If it was okay with Mom.

  “I can pick you up at five thirty,” I concluded.

  She smiled. “Can’t wait!”

  I was about to ask if she knew where she wanted to go for lunch, when a gentle male voice spoke from behind me.

  “Good morning.”

  Pastor Ulrich, I realized as I turned around to face him.

  “Hi,” I said, trying to make sure my smile was friendly.

  Tobi bobbed her head. “Good morning.”

  There was a moment of silence, then Pastor Ulrich spoke again.

  “Miss October Blake?”

  Tobi nodded and put out her hand. “Yes, I’m October.”

  I watched as he gently took her hand in his. He didn’t shake it, but just clasped it for a moment before letting go. “Jon Ulrich. I’m sorry I haven’t taken the time to welcome you yet.”

  Tobi’s cheeks flushed to a light, shy pink. “It’s okay,” she said.

  “Are you enjoying your time in Pleasanton?”

  “Yes sir.” I could almost see her groping for things to say. “It’s very nice.”

  “I’m glad.”

  He looked nearly as shy as she did, but despite his soft, accented voice he didn’t give the impression of being shy. But he was taking away from my time with October, and therefore he was currently the enemy.

  “Well, we’re heading to lunch,” I announced. “Have a good week, pastor.”

  “Thank you, Emily,” he nodded. “Same to you. And to you, Miss Blake.”

  He turned away and left us to exit the church.

  Tobi was silent until we were out in the open air, then she turned to me and I read her eyes and instantly regretted my selfishness. But she said nothing.

  We didn’t speak as we walked to Daddy’s car, which he’d left for me to take home while he rode with Mom. When I reached it, I cleared my throat. “Do you know where you want to eat?”

  “I don’t care,” she said. I’d never heard her speak that way before.

  I touched the car door handle, uncertain what to do next. “How about Jimmy’s?”

  “Okay.”

  With nothing else to say, I opened the door and got in. She walked around to the other side, a stiffness in her posture that I hadn’t seen before. And she closed her door a little too hard after she got in.

  We sat there in the silence.

  “I’m sorry if I was rude,” I said at last. I couldn’t just start the car and let her keep feeling—whatever it was that made her shut down like that. Had I embarrassed her?

  She relaxed slightly. “It’s okay.”

  I didn’t know what else to say, so I started the car. I put it in gear and placed my hands on the wheel, then hesitated.

  “I’m kindof looking forward to choir, actually,” I admitted.

  Her face didn’t change for a moment, then it finally broke into her normal, October smile. “Me too.” She leaned one elbow against the car window. “Ready for some fried chicken?”

  “Always,” I promptly responded, and she laughed, and everything was right with the world once more.

  Chapter Six

  The week school ended was a busy one. Mom was helping to organize a graduation for her best friend’s daughter, which left Jax and I to get Patrick Charles to and from most of his school activities. We had last minute cramming to do—at least I did. I never really caught Jax in a rush to gather necessary information. His brain was like a vault.

  “Is Tobi coming to my graduation?” Patrick Charles asked as we headed to school for the last Friday of the year.

  I laughed. “It’s not a graduation, goose. Yo
u’re just finishing kindergarten, not school in general. And Mom told you to call her Miss Blake.”

  He grumbled as Jax pulled into the elementary school parking lot. “She’s nice to me. Nicer than you are, Emily Baxter. And she tells better stories, too.”

  I shushed him and told him to gather up his things. “Be good, and I’ll bring you a cookie later. That’s nice, isn’t it?”

  He obediently shouldered his backpack, picked up his lunch, and hurried out of the truck and towards the school.

  “Bribery?” Jax questioned as he drove off again.

  “It’s a fine line between bribery and reward,” I retorted.

  He grinned.

  Melissa caught up to me after my history test and pounded me on the back. “Hey, Drag. Wanna go to the mall tomorrow?”

  Right. I hadn’t told her about the choir yet.

  “Actually, I’m going to be busy tomorrow.” I reached down and dug in my bag for nothing in particular. “How about Monday? School’s over!”

  The whine in her voice was getting all too familiar. “Some of us have to work. I told you I’m starting at the ice cream place Monday.”

  “Well then, I’ll come see you.” I forced myself to look up from my bag and smile at her. “You can give ice cream discounts, right?”

  “Em.” She poked me in the ribs. “Come on. I wanna celebrate the end of school and my last day as a freeloading woman.”

  “I told you, I’ll be busy. Sorry, maybe next weekend, Mel.” And I scuttled off, glad I had another test to run off to.

  After Jax and I were finally free, we went back to pick up Patrick Charles and watch his so-called graduation—about twenty minutes worth of tots getting certificates and taking pictures with their parents. I dutifully gave him a nice big cookie, then Mom and Daddy took both of us home, while Jax headed to the farm to put up the animals before dinner.

  Even with my hurry I didn’t get over to October’s until almost six, a fact that was mitigated by my giddiness over the arrival of summer.

  “Why don’t you drive?” I asked her as we rushed to the church. I’m not sure I would have asked if it hadn’t been for my jubilation over the coming months of freedom.