by Betsy Byars
Maggie got the first boost, then Ralphie. “Wait!” Mad Mary said. Everyone was so shocked to hear her actually say something that they stopped what they were doing.
Mad Mary crossed to the tree with long strides. “Here,” she said, “maybe this will help.”
She passed up her long stick with the crook on the end. Maggie took it. “Why, thank you.”
Then she handed it to Ralphie. “Thank you,” he said. He reached up and hooked it over an upper limb. “Let’s go.”
Ralphie was good in trees. Sometimes he even took off his leg to prove just how good he was, but obviously this was not the time to show off.
He got up the first two limbs like a shot so that he could lean down and offer his hand to Maggie. She took it. He glanced up. Ah, about ten more limbs, twelve if he went the hard way, twelve more offers of help. Ralphie hooked Mad Mary’s stick over the next limb and moved up.
“Mud, stop that,” Pap said, “let Dump go.”
Now that Maggie and Ralphie were out of sight in the tree, Pap had looked down. He did this mainly to give his neck muscles a rest, but the first thing he saw was Mud, holding Dump down on the ground with his paw.
“Stop it, Mud.”
Mud took his paw off Dump, and Dump ran to Pap. He put his thin paws on Pap’s knee. Pap leaned down and scratched him behind the ears. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Mud.”
Mud’s ears pulled back. His tail went between his legs.
“I been noticing how you been carrying on. You won’t let the puppy drink water out of your bowl and you won’t let him eat at all and now you won’t let him walk around. What’s wrong with you?”
Mud hung his head.
“Just go on,” Pap said. “Go on. If you can’t behave yourself, Mud, just go on back to the house.”
Mud took a few steps away from the people, toward the path where Pap was pointing.
“We’ll be glad to have your company if you can behave yourself, but if you can’t, just go on. I’m tired of watching you make this puppy’s life miserable.”
Mud went a few more steps. He sat down. He watched Pap patting the puppy. He waited for a long time for Pap to speak to him and tell him things were all right. When he didn’t, Mud turned and with his tail between his legs, he started for home.
Maggie was a good climber too, but that didn’t surprise Ralphie. He knew himself well enough to know he would never fall in love with a girl who was clumsy.
They got up to the level of the Phantom too quickly to suit Ralphie, and he had only himself to blame. He was in such a hurry for the next handhold, that he didn’t let the individual holds last long enough. What he should have done was—
Maggie broke into his thoughts. “Do you want to crawl out on that limb or this one?”
“I’ll take the one you don’t want,” he said graciously.
“I’ll go out on this one. I weigh less and …” She grinned and he could see her broken tooth up close for the first time. It was much more beautiful up close. It was like—he was sorry he wasn’t a more poetic person because it wasn’t like anything really except Maggie’s tooth. It was his favorite of her teeth, of course, but it was like nothing in the world but her tooth. He hardly heard the end of her sentence, “… since it’s the smallest …”
Junior called from the ground, “Are you there yet?”
“We’re there,” Maggie called back.
“Can you reach it?”
“Give us time,” Ralphie answered.
They inched out on their limbs and stopped when they were directly below the branch that held the Phantom. Ralphie reached out with Mad Mary’s cane and poked it. “It’s going to take more than this. Let’s shake.”
Maggie nodded. They reached up together and grabbed the limb. “Ready?” Ralphie asked.
Maggie nodded. Then she added, “Wait a minute, let me get a better grip.”
“Me too,” Ralphie said.
Maggie really wanted a better grip, but Ralphie just wanted a way to make the time in the tree with Maggie last longer. He wondered if all men loved women more in trees than they did on the ground, or if it was just him. Maybe it was the way the moonlight shone through the leaves on her face. Or maybe it was the fact that they seemed so much more alone at this moment than they had ever been before.
“I’m ready,” she said.
“Okay,” Ralphie said. “Go!”
They both began to shake, and it was one of the most exciting moments of Ralphie’s life. Maggie was laughing and leaves and twigs were falling all around them.
Maggie stretched forward and looked up. “It’s still there. Go again!”
They shook harder this time. Leaves and twigs rained around them. Maggie laughed aloud. Then she leaned forward to look.
“It’s free,” she cried. “It’s free!”
She had to keep leaning forward to watch the Phantom’s escape. Ralphie could see all right from where he was, but he found himself leaning forward too.
Instead of looking up at the Phantom, however, he looked down at Maggie’s face. Her eyes were shining. Her lips were smiling.
And to Ralphie’s amazement he bent his head and kissed her.
CHAPTER 26
Going … Going … Gone
“Can you see it all right up there?” Junior yelled. “Can you guys see it?”
Ralphie tried to make his voice normal when he called back, “Yes.”
“It’s so beautiful,” Junior went on in an excited way, “and the breeze is just right. Come on down quick so you see it.”
“We can see real good from up here, Junior,” Maggie called back.
She looked down as she called to Junior, and all Ralphie could see was the top of her head, her center part, the braids swinging on either side of her face. She did not sound like a girl who had just been kissed. She sounded perfectly normal.
Ralphie knew that the one word he had managed had not sounded normal at all. He knew, too, that he did not look normal either. His face was on fire. The tips of his ears blazed.
Maggie glanced up and grinned. She did not look like a girl who had just been kissed either. It was exactly the same friendly grin she always gave him.
“Can you see all right?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“How do you know? You aren’t even looking.”
“Oh.” Ralphie actually looked through the leaves at the Phantom for the first time.
The Phantom was moving away on the wind, over the cliff, over the tallest trees, soaring toward the city of Alderson. “Wouldn’t it be funny,” Maggie said, “if people saw it and thought it was real.”
Ralphie still didn’t trust his voice to say more than one word at a time. “Yes.”
“Wouldn’t it be great if it got in the newspaper. UFO Sighted Over Alderson. Junior would be so thrilled.”
Ralphie cleared his throat. “He seems pretty thrilled as it is.”
“I know. I just think I would have died if it had gone wrong tonight. Last night was terrible. Last night was one of the worst nights of my life. You heard the things Mom said to me.”
Ralphie cleared his throat. “But tonight’s been all right, hasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate it?”
“Oh.” She thought a minute. “Ten.” Her answer thrilled him so much, he would have fallen out of the tree if he hadn’t been hooked on to a limb by Mad Mary’s cane.
“If you don’t watch out, Ralphie, you’re going to fall and ruin the whole thing.”
Ralphie regained his balance quickly. After that he pretended to watch the Phantom, but the Phantom was nothing compared to Maggie. He watched Maggie out of the sides of his eyes.
“We better start down,” Maggie said. “I promised Mom I’d do the refreshments. We’re having two flavors of Kool-Aid, pimento cheese sandwiches, and Oreos.”
Ralphie said, “What’s the hurry? Nobody will want to eat until the Phantom’s out of s
ight anyway.”
Maggie looked up at the sky and grinned. “It is out of sight.”
And before he could stop her, Maggie swung to the next lower limb and began climbing down. Even he couldn’t have done it so fast. With a sigh, he unhooked Mad Mary’s cane and started after her.
* * *
Below, on the ground, Junior said, “Wasn’t it just beautiful, wasn’t it beautiful? I think I can still see it, can you, Mom?”
“Maybe,” his mother said. She couldn’t, but she knew that Junior might still be seeing it in his mind, and she didn’t want to disturb the image.
Junior was seeing it in his mind, replaying it the way things were replayed on television. He was not replaying the whole thing. He started his motion with the Phantom breaking away from the tree. That had been the most spectacular part.
There had been a burst of leaves and twigs as if the Phantom itself were trying to pull free, and then it was free. It was in the air. It paused for a moment, and then immediately it began to gain height. It seemed to shoot straight up, more like a rocket than a balloon. And in five minutes the Phantom had actually become a part of the sky, something that had always belonged there, like the sun or the moon. It was as if he, Junior, had released the Phantom from captivity, and put it where it was meant to be.
“I wish everybody in the world could see it,” Junior said.
“Maybe they will,” his mom answered.
The Green Phantom, Junior thought, is my gift to the world.
Vern said, “Well, I can’t see it, can you, Michael?”
Michael said, “No.”
There was such regret in Michael’s voice that Vern glanced at him. It was the same regret he felt over not playing with the BB gun or the rod and reel. He felt a warmth toward Michael that for the first time had nothing to do with Michael’s possessions.
“Wait a minute,” Vicki Blossom said, “maybe you can’t see it, but Junior’s got better eyes than the rest of the family.”
This time when Junior looked, it was gone. “No,” he said, “it’s gone out into the world.”
His mother took his hand, and they walked to where Maggie was spreading out the night picnic. Actually, it wasn’t like walking, Junior thought, it was more pleasant than that. It was strolling.
“Did you really like it, Mom?” he asked on the way.
“I loved it. You know what it reminded me of ?”
“What?”
“The Fourth of July, only it was even better than fireworks.”
Since Junior dearly loved fireworks, this pleased him. He stopped strolling for a moment. His mother did too. “What is it, Junior?”
“If I ask you something, will you tell me the truth?”
“Of course.”
Junior had to ask this while the Phantom was still in his mother’s mind. This was the most important question of Junior’s life.
“Do you think Dad would have been proud of me?”
“Oh, yes,” his mother answered. And she repeated it so Junior knew she really did mean it. “Oh, yes.”
CHAPTER 27
The Misery Hole
Mud was under the porch when the Blossom family came home from the launch. He rolled his eyes upward as they climbed the porch steps above him and a little dust sprinkled down through the floorboards. Mud did not lift his head. He was too miserable.
He heard the family cross the porch, open the door, go in the house. He heard the light steps of the puppy going in with them. He heard the excitement in the Blossoms’ voices as they got ready for bed.
“What was your favorite part, Maggie?”
“My favorite part, Junior, was when the Phantom broke out of the tree.”
“Mom, what was your favorite part?”
“Let’s see. I have so many favorites. But I think my very favorite was toward the end when the Phantom sort of blended in with the stars.”
“Pap, what was your very favorite part?”
“Getting home.”
Mud’s ear twitched when he heard Pap’s voice, but he kept his body curled into a ball, his head resting on his paws, his tail tucked between his legs. From time to time his body trembled.
This was Mud’s misery hole, and it perfectly fitted his body. He had made it over the years and he got in it every time Pap fussed at him or wanted to give him a bath or left him behind, but he had never needed it more than he did now. The worst thing in his life had happened. Pap had gotten a new dog.
The porch light went out and the little slits of light that had filtered through the cracks between the boards was gone. Mud was in darkness. He sighed and trembled. He felt worse than ever. As long as the light had been on, there had been a chance that Pap would open the door and call him inside. Now the house was silent. No one was going to call.
Mud stood his misery as long as he could. Then he lifted his head and began to howl softly. It wasn’t his usual howl. His usual howl could be heard for five miles. This was a wail of such sorrow that it barely penetrated the floorboards of the Blossoms’ house.
Pap was the one who heard it. “Oh, I forgot about Mud.” He threw back his covers and got out of bed. He went down the hall, through the dark living room, and threw open the porch door. He turned on the light.
“Mud, are you under the porch?”
Mud stopped howling. There was a silence.
“Mud, are you under the porch?”
Silence.
Mud heard Pap’s feet on the porch, crossing to the steps. Pap went down one step and stopped.
“Come on out, boy. Come on, Mud.”
Mud did not move. Pap said, “Now don’t make me come all the way down the steps and get down on my knees and pull you out. You know what my knees are like.”
Pap waited. Then he sighed. He went down the stairs slowly and bent to peer under the house. Mud was there where Pap knew he would be—in his misery hole.
“Come on out, Mud, good dog. Come on.”
Mud did not move.
“Mud, don’t make me come in there after you.”
Still Mud did not move.
Pap sighed. Then he lay down on his stomach and worked his way under the house. He reached out one trembling hand and laid it on the top of Mud’s head. He began to smooth out the wrinkles in Mud’s brow with his thumb.
“Now, you know I don’t stay mad with you, don’t you? I’m already over it. You know that. You’re the best dog I ever had, Mud, and lately maybe I haven’t been acting like I appreciate you, but I do. I surely do.”
He kept smoothing Mud’s brow. “There’s never been a better dog than you. This new dog—he’s a nice little dog, but he ain’t mine. I’m like my daddy when it comes to dogs. My daddy used to keep the fine dogs for himself and give ordinary dogs to us kids. Like he kept Old Stoker for himself and gave me Little Blackie, and Little Blackie chased chickens. My mama was always after me about that. I’d say, ‘Mama, he don’t catch them,’ but every time she’d see him, he’d be grinning and there’d be a chicken feather stuck on his tongue. You’re my dog like Old Stoker was my daddy’s. I don’t need another dog. I wouldn’t take one if somebody gave it to me. I’m a one-dog man, and you’re a one-man dog. We belong together. Now, come on out. You can sleep under my bed if you want to. Come on, Mud. Please let’s get up off this hard ground.”
He twisted his fingers in the bandanna that Mud wore around his neck. He pulled, and Mud slid out of his misery hole.
“Now you know you don’t want to spend the night under the porch, come on. You and me have been through too much to let one little disagreement ruin things. Come on.”
Mud’s tail thumped once against the porch steps. “That’s my dog, come on. Let’s go, Mud.”
Mud crawled out from under the porch. He sat and waited patiently for Pap to crawl out too.
Pap didn’t get up right away. He lay on his back for a moment, catching his breath. And then he did something he had never done before. He put his arms around Mud and hugged him against his c
hest.
“There’s too few living beings in this world that I care about for me to go around treating one of them the way I treated you. You forgive Pap this time, and I won’t make the same mistake again.”
Pap released Mud and began the long struggle to his feet. Mud shook himself while he waited. Then Pap said, “Come on, Mud, let’s go to bed.” And Mud followed Pap into the house.
CHAPTER 28
The Finish
It was one week later, and every one of the Blossoms had something to be pleased about. Maggie had caught on to standing up in shortened stirrups and could now go around the field on Sandy Boy almost as fast as her mom.
“Watch, Ralphie,” she called, even though she was aware Ralphie had not taken his eyes off her since he got there.
Ralphie was lying on the grass. He was smiling slightly. Ralphie had something to be pleased about too. His mother had found out about the helium, and she had not clobbered him. Of course, this was, Ralphie told himself, because he had been sharp enough to say, “Mom, even hardened criminals get to atone for their crimes.”
“And just how are you planning to atone?”
“I’ll help deliver balloons, Mom. This gorilla woman can’t last. People want balloons delivered by clowns. You need a clown suit. Mom, the whole family could be clowns. I could be a pirate clown with a peg leg.”
Ralphie hoped he would not actually have to be a peg-leg clown, but it had diverted his mom, and she had gone this afternoon to look at patterns for clown suits.
Vicki Blossom was pleased because in the spring, she would be back on the rodeo circuit, this time with Maggie. She could almost hear the announcer saying, “And joining the Wrangler Riders is a three-generation cowgirl. Her granddad is Pap Blossom. Her dad was Cotton Blossom, a National Champion, and that’s her proud mom, Vicki Blossom. Let’s put our hands together and give all the Blossoms, past and present, a round of applause.”
Pap was pleased because he was getting ready to show Vern how to wash a dog. He felt he had a special knack for washing dogs. “You don’t wash them like people” was the way he described his technique. “Come on, Dump, you need a bath.”