For the first time since Elsie had left, I felt safe. She was gone. Maybe she wouldn’t come back. Maybe I’d make new friends tomorrow.
I opened Anne of Green Gables, a book I’d already read more than once, and thought of redheaded Rosie dashing around the playground. She had a sparkle that reminded me of Anne, a promise of mischief and fun and jokes and secrets. If only I could be her friend.
Father looked up from the paper. “According to the New York Times, we’re slowly making progress against the Germans. If all goes well, the war might be over before Christmas.”
Mother sighed and laid down her knitting. “It would be wonderful to have Paul home for the holidays. I worry about him constantly. The trenches, the nerve gas, the disease.” She shuddered as if her words had brought the war into our cozy parlor. “So much suffering and pain and death. I wish this country had stayed out of the war.”
“We’ve talked about this before,” Father said. “We should have gone in when the Germans sank the Lusitania. The war would probably be over now if the president hadn’t been such a pacifist.”
“Wilson was wise to delay,” Mother said. “Even more of our boys would be dead if he’d declared war sooner.”
While my parents argued quietly, I worried about Uncle Paul. What if his name appeared on one of the lists of casualties posted every day in the newspaper? What if he never came home? Or what if he came home—but without his legs? What if he came home with “battle fatigue”? He could be a mental case from the gas the Germans used. I’d seen pictures in the paper. I knew how awful the war was.
I snuggled against Mother’s side, comforted by her warmth. If only I could end the war with one big powerful wish and bring Uncle Paul back. And all the other Yanks as well.
As Rosie said, the Germans were dirty rotten Huns, and I hated them. Everyone did. Even Miss Harrison. If I ever met a German, I’d spit in his face.
Four
HE NEXT MORNING, Elsie was waiting for me at the school gate. As soon as she saw me, she pushed through the crowd of girls entering the schoolyard and ran across the street to meet me. “Were your parents angry about the doll?”
“I didn’t tell them.”
“I knew you wouldn’t tattle.” Elsie seized my hand and swung it as we crossed the street. “Your parents must be rich—all the things you have and the big house you live in. I’m so glad we’re friends.”
While the other students pushed past us, laughing and talking, Elsie pulled me aside. “I got in trouble for coming home late. Papa whipped me, and Hilda sent me to bed with no supper. But that’s not the worst of it.’”
She tightened her grip on my hand, and we walked up the school steps together. The other girls were all inside, and she paused at the door to look me in the eye.
“As part of my punishment, Papa says I can’t go anywhere for a week. That means you and I won’t be able to play at your house till next Monday.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” I tried to sound truly disappointed, but not very deep inside, I was so happy I could have danced into our classroom.
Elsie’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Maybe you’re glad you won’t have to share your toys with me,” she said in a low, whiny voice. “Maybe you don’t want to be best friends after all.”
With a scowl on her face, she shoved the heavy school door open, darted inside, and let the door slam in my face.
I stood where I was for a moment, stunned. What kind of a friend was Elsie? She’d ruined my doll, she’d slammed a heavy door in my face. What would she do next?
The bell rang as I tugged the door open. In all my years at Fairfield, I’d never been late. This was only my second day at Pearce, and I was tardy. It seemed nothing was going well for me at my new school.
Alone and afraid, I walked down the empty hallway. By the time I reached my door, I saw the girls standing for the Lord’s Prayer. Ignoring their turned heads and watchful eyes, I tiptoed into the cloakroom to hang up my coat.
“Girls,” Miss Harrison said, “we shall wait until Annie Browne deigns to join us for the Lord’s Prayer.”
Humiliated, I slunk to my desk and stood beside it, so flustered I barely remembered the words of the prayer.
After we pledged our allegiance to the flag and prayed for the soldiers, Miss Harrison beckoned to me. Aware of the eyes tracking me, I walked to her big oak desk and waited with my head down.
“Do you have an excuse for being tardy, Annie?”
I felt Elsie staring at my back, her eyes like drills, daring me to say she’d slammed the door. “No, ma’am.”
“I’ll forgive you this time. After all, it’s your second day with us, and you were only a few minutes late.” She hesitated. “But I’ll keep you in for recess today.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m sorry, ma’am. It won’t happen again.” I returned to my seat. It may sound strange, but I was happy to miss recess. I hadn’t enjoyed walking around the playground with Elsie yesterday, and I was sure to enjoy it even less today.
For the rest of the week, I dreaded recess. Because my classmates continued to link me with Elsie, they disliked me. I watched them play onesies and foursquare, I watched them jump rope, I watched them chase one another and swing and seesaw—all things I loved to do, but Elsie kept my hand in hers and never gave me a chance to approach them.
“You’re my best friend.” She squeezed my hand so hard I winced. “You and me, best friends forever.”
Rosie ran past us laughing. Lucy and Eunice chased her, but she outran them both. Grabbing an empty swing, she stood on the seat and pumped herself higher and higher. It looked as if she’d go right over the top.
Eunice took a swing from another girl and tried to go higher than Rosie, but she never got close.
Elsie gave me a hard nudge with her elbow. “Why are you watching that stupid showoff?”
Rosie chose that moment to launch herself out of the swing into the air. She landed in the dirt but got up laughing. She’d ripped the knees of her stockings. “Dare you to jump!” she yelled at Eunice.
Eunice let the swing slow before she jumped. Even so, she sat down when she landed.
“I hate them both,” Elsie muttered. “Especially Rosie. I wish she’d broken her leg. It would’ve served her right, don’t you agree, Annie?”
I shrugged. Elsie took my hand and led me away from the swings. “Girls shouldn’t do things like that. They could hurt their insides.”
I wasn’t sure what Elsie meant, but I hoped she was wrong. I’d been jumping out of swings for years, and as far as I knew, my insides were fine.
On Monday, the very day she’d be allowed to visit me, Elsie didn’t come to school. When I noticed her empty seat, my heart flipped. I held my breath while Miss Harrison called roll. If Elsie didn’t show up soon, I was free to be on my own at recess. The thought scared me dizzy. Without my hand in Elsie’s and her mouth against my ear whispering things about them, would the girls see me differently?
At recess time, I delayed going to the cloakroom by sharpening my pencils, all five of them, even the ones that didn’t need it. By the time I made my appearance on the playground, everyone was swinging or seesawing or gathered in groups whispering secrets and laughing. Sure they were talking about me, I joined the crowd gathered around Rosie. She was bouncing a red rubber ball, and the girls were chanting, “Seven, eight, nine O’Leario, ten, eleven, twelve O’Leario.” With every bounce, Rosie swung her leg over the ball, caught it, and bounced it again.
One, two, three O’Leario was one of my favorite games at Fairfield. In fact, I was playground champion. I itched to take a turn when Rosie missed. Inching forward, I watched her closely. She was good. But no better than I was.
“Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen O’Leario,” the girls chanted. Rosie bounced and swung her leg, bounced and swung her leg, but finally on “twenty-seven O’Leario,” the sole of her shoe grazed the ball and she missed.
The crowd of girls cheered, and someone started sin
ging, “For she’s a jolly good fellow, for she’s a jolly good fellow.”
With her face flushed and her blouse untucked, Rosie threw her arms up in the air and laughed. “Let’s see someone beat that!”
Before I could think about what I was doing, I stepped into the circle surrounding Rosie. “I can.”
A soul-killing silence fell. The girls stared at me and then began whispering to one another.
“Where’s your twin sister today?” Rosie asked.
I shrugged and looked at the ground. I’d made a mistake. But if I walked away now, they’d never be friends with me.
“Oooh,” Eunice said. “Get away from me—you have Elsie’s germs.”
“Cooties,” Lucy shouted, “Annie has cooties just like Fat Elsie.”
The girls all backed away, holding their hands over their mouths and noses.
“Oh, let her try.” Rosie tossed me the ball. “Let’s see how far you get.”
I missed the ball because I hadn’t expected her to throw it. The girls laughed and drew around Rosie and me in a circle.
“She’ll be out after one, two, three,” Eunice said.
“Give her a chance,” Jane said. Of all of the girls in my class, she was the sweetest. I’d never heard her say a mean word, not even to Elsie. I smiled at her, and she smiled back.
Okay, I said to myself, I can do this. I’ll pretend I’m at Fairfield and these girls are my friends.
Concentrating hard, I bounced the ball and began. At first I was the only one chanting, but by the time I got to ten, eleven, twelve O’Leario, Jane and a few others had joined me.
The sound of their voices encouraged me, and on I went on. When the count was “nineteen, twenty, twenty-one,” everyone was chanting.
The count reached twenty-seven, and still I hadn’t missed. On I went, past Rosie, all the way to thirty-three before I failed to catch the ball. I watched it bounce into the crowd and disappear.
For a moment, everyone stared at me in disbelief. If I’d expected them to cheer or sing “For Annie’s a jolly good fellow,” I’d have been very disappointed.
“I call for a rematch.” Eunice picked up the ball and tossed it to Rosie.
Rosie caught it but turned to me with a grin. “Good job, Annie Browne. Maybe we can have a rematch some other time.”
“Okay.” I smiled at her. Before I could say anything else, the bell rang, and we lined up at the school door.
Jane touched my hand. “You were really good,” she said. “I can never get past ten O’Learios. It just plain wears me out to swing my leg over that ball.”
“I played it all the time at my old school. It’s always been one of my favorite games.”
“I like jacks,” Jane said. “And pick-up sticks and tiddlywinks, games you sit down to play. I don’t get so tired.”
“They’re fun too.”
“How come you never played games at recess before?” Rosie asked.
I hadn’t noticed her standing behind me. “On my first day, Elsie made friends with me. She doesn’t like games. But I do.”
Rosie looked at me. “Who would you rather be friends with? Elsie or me?”
My face turned red. “You, of course.”
We linked pinky fingers and laughed. That’s how easy it was to toss Elsie aside and become part of Rosie’s gang.
Every day after that, I dreaded Elsie’s return to school. I didn’t know what she’d do when she saw me running around the playground with Rosie and her gang. Truthfully, I’d been a little scared of her since she’d ruined Antoinette. And the way she talked about her parents and the other girls in our class, even timid ones like Jane who never did anything to her. What would she do to me when she found I’d betrayed her?
The next week, Elsie showed up at the school gate. Her nose was red and running, and she had a balled up hanky in her fist. When she saw me, she began coughing loudly and dramatically.
“Oh, Annie,” she said, “I’ve been so sick. I thought you’d come to see me. I swear I had such a high fever the doctor said I was at death’s door. I have a delicate constitution, you know.”
Grabbing my hand with the same hand that held the germy handkerchief, she said, “I’ve missed you so much, but we can go to your house after school today and play with your dollhouse. That will make me feel so much better. Do you think maybe your mother will fix hot chocolate and give us cookies again?”
While Elsie prattled away, I grew more and more desperate. What was I to do? What was I to say? She thought we were still friends, she thought I wanted her to come to my house and probably destroy my dollhouse, but she was wrong. She was never coming to my house again. Besides, I’d made plans to go to the candy store with Rosie and Jane after school.
And then Rosie was beside me, grinning at Elsie. “Look who’s back. I was hoping I’d never see your fat, ugly face again.”
Elsie moved closer me. “Leave me alone, Rosie O’Malley. I’m still weak from being sick. If you come any closer, I’ll tell Miss Harrison.”
“Ooooh, you and your big bad cooties!” Rosie gave Elsie a little push.
Elsie began to cough again. “I’m telling, I’m telling.” She grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the school steps.
“Let go of Annie!” Rosie slapped Elsie’s hand. “In case you haven’t noticed, she’s my friend now.”
Elsie stared at me. Her nose was running over her mouth, two thick yellow streams of germs. “That can’t be true, Annie.”
Without answering, I ran across the street with Rosie. “Charge,” Rosie yelled as we dashed up the school steps. “Charge the hill!”
I didn’t look back, but I imagined Elsie standing alone on the street, her nose running, watching me, her supposed best friend forever, deserting her.
I thought I’d feel worse than I actually did, but truly it was a relief to be rid of Elsie. No more damp hand holding mine, no more whining and complaining, no more visits to my house. I was free of Elsie forever!
Five
SHOULD HAVE KNOWN that getting away from Elsie wasn’t going to be as easy as I hoped.
For a week or two, my former so-called best friend followed me home from school and hung around our front gate. Mother would look outside and see her, sad and pale, swinging forlornly on the gate and watching the house as if waiting for me to come out and play.
“Elsie is out front again, Annie. She was here yesterday and the day before. Have you two quarreled?”
“Not exactly. I just don’t like her anymore.”
“Well, she seems to like you. Can’t you be a little kinder and invite her inside or go out and play with her?”
Why didn’t Mother understand? If I went out there, Elsie would never go away.
She and Father talked to me about it one night after dinner. It was a chilly evening, and Father lit a fire, but my parents ruined the atmosphere by bringing up Elsie.
“I feel so sorry for her,” Mother said. “You’d think you were her only friend.”
“I was her only friend. I told you no one at school likes her. She lies and cheats and tattles.”
Mother and Father looked at each other. “So you dropped Elsie when you made friends with Rosie and Jane?” Father asked.
“You don’t understand, Father. I never really liked her. She made me be her friend and then nobody else liked me.”
“Are you sure Elsie deserves to be left out?” Mother asked. “She struck me as a sad and lonely girl. It must have hurt her to lose your friendship.”
“I’ll be right back.” I ran upstairs and pulled Antoinette’s trunk out of the wardrobe. Lifting my poor, battered doll from her hiding place, I carried her downstairs and laid her in Mother’s lap.
“This is what Elsie did to Antoinette.” I began to cry at the sight of the doll’s ruined face.
“Oh, my goodness.” Mother held up the doll for Father to see.
Father shook his head. “I admit I found her a bit odd the night I drove her home. She sat i
n the back seat whispering to Annie. Secretive, I guess. I’m not surprised to learn she has no friends.”
“Oh, Horace,” Mother said, “can’t you be more compassionate? If you could see her out there, swinging on our gate and gazing at our house as if she’s longing to see Annie.”
“She does it to make me feel bad,” I shouted. “She thinks I’ll feel sorry for her and be her friend, but I won’t be her friend, no matter what she does!”
Father looked at me. “Annie, don’t raise your voice. I won’t have it. Please apologize to your mother.”
“I’m sorry,” I said in a low voice. “I shouldn’t have shouted, but you just don’t know what Elsie’s like. Or how I feel.”
Mother shook her head as if she had no more to say about Elsie. Stroking Antoinette’s hair, she said, “There’s a doll doctor in the city. I’m sure he can make Antoinette look as good as new.”
The next day, Rosie and Jane came home with me after school. From the corner, we saw Elsie swinging back and forth on the gate, looking forlorn as usual.
“What’s she doing at your house?” Rosie looked at me as if she suspected I harbored a secret friendship with Elsie.
“It’s not my fault. I didn’t invite her,” I said. “She shows up almost every day and waits for me to play with her. I never do, and after a while she gives up and goes home.”
“I’ll fix her wagon.” Rosie strode down the sidewalk with Jane at her side, begging her not to be mean.
But sometimes Mean was Rosie’s middle name. “Hey, get off that gate!” she yelled. “You’re so fat you’ll break it, and then your Hun father will have to buy a new one for the Brownes.”
Elsie hadn’t seen us coming. Rosie startled her so badly she almost fell off the gate. “My father’s not a Hun!”
One for Sorrow Page 3