Still, somehow, amid the falls, and the bruises, the throats sore from the wind, and the throbbing, aching fingers—somehow in spite of all this, they made that last turn and saw the Meador house up ahead.
Shouts went up. Ellie whooped like her daddy. They whistled and jumped up and down and hugged each other.
They had made it.
The planks of the Meador porch echoed with the stamping of tired feet, then the wooden door opened wide. The warmth of a home eased the coldness from each face as the twenty-eight passengers plus one bus driver dragged inside.
“Oh, you poor children!” Mrs. Meador said as she moved to each one, framing their cheeks with her plump hands. “God love your bones!”
She and her husband and her son James, who had long before given up on the bus and trudged back home, helped pull off scarfs and mittens and coats and boots. When he came to Ellie, James seemed shy but pleased to have her in his house. He had never quite gotten over the thrill of her Christmas cookies.
“Whew!” Ellie said. “Talk about cold!” James took her things to be laid out to dry, and she huddled on the big braided rug in front of the fireplace with everyone else.
Eunice was feeling her damp, straggly hair, a little pout on her face.
“Shoot, Eun,” Ellie said. “Don’t worry about it. I bet when Keith Evans finds out you didn’t make it to school, he’ll hike himself all the way to our house.”
Eunice just pouted harder, so Ellie ignored her.
The Meadors were giving out cups of sugary warm tea, and as the kids thawed, they got noisier.
Even Ellie began to feel exuberant again. She had escaped Valentine’s Day. And she and all the rest had accomplished something brave and wonderful. And, for this morning, she deeply loved Mr. Danner.
James came with a cup of tea for her and one for himself and squeezed in to sit beside her.
“Some valentine, huh?” he commented.
Ellie sputtered and splashed some of the tea on her pants.
“You can say that again!”
“You hungry?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“Hungry?”
“Well … sure. I guess,” she answered.
“Come on then.”
She got up and followed him through the living room, up the stairs to the second floor and into a bedroom.
“This your room?” she asked.
“Uh-huh.” He started rummaging through a bureau drawer.
The room had pictures of airplanes covering every wall. Ellie had never seen so many pictures of airplanes.
“You like planes?” she asked.
“Uh-huh.” He shut the drawer and started digging into another one.
“I’ve never seen so many planes,” she said, walking all around the room and looking at some of them up close.
“Found it!”
She turned to look at James. And in his hand was a wide, flat box that looked like it might hold handkerchiefs.
He walked over to her and opened the lid. Inside were a Christmas bell, painted red and white, and a stocking, painted pink and yellow with blue trim.
Ellie looked at him.
“You saved these two cookies since Christmas?”
James grinned. “Yep.”
Ellie shook her head in disbelief.
“Want one?” he asked.
Ellie grinned.
“They’re not rotten?”
“Heck, no. This room’s so cold most of the time, they could probably keep till June.”
Ellie chose the stocking. She bit into it. It was good. A little tough, but good.
“Why’d you save them?”
James shrugged his shoulders and looked shyly away.
“Just liked ’em, that’s all. Wanted to make them last.”
Ellie sat down on the rug with him and finished her cookie. They drank their tea and talked about airplanes and war and dogs and the hike Ellie had just made.
At home later that night, it occurred to Ellie that God couldn’t have made a more perfect Valentine’s Day.
Spring
Okey’s Song
ELLIE HEARD ABOUT LESTER WOOD FROM HER DADDY.
Lester was a boy Ellie’s age who was running for class president. Ellie considered him pretty boring, too nice to be much fun. He had several older brothers and they sometimes came around to see Ellie’s sisters. She was pretty sure they were even duller than their younger brother.
What Ellie heard from Okey was that Lester got shot by one of his brothers. And he was dead by the time the ambulance made the long trip out from town.
Okey said Lester and his brother were target shooting. And Lester had walked right in front when his brother fired. Just wasn’t paying him any attention, Okey figured. Just forgot there was a gun about to fire. Sort of like walking in front of somebody in a swing, forgetting he’s going to come back in hard and knock you down.
Ellie went to the funeral. First one she’d ever gone to. Lester looked just about the same to her dead as he had looked alive. She was ashamed she had found him boring then and still did. She told herself that if God would change things and bring Lester back to life, she’d vote for Lester for class president. He sure never hurt anybody.
Lester’s sisters were all dressed up for the funeral. They weren’t much older than Ellie. She noticed they were wearing nylons and high heels. One had on some bright red lipstick and a pair of dangling pearl earrings. Ellie thought the girl looked pretty, like someone going to a party in town. She spent more time looking at Lester’s sisters than at anything else during the funeral.
Nobody cried in the church. Ellie had expected a lot of wailing and carrying on, and she’d been worried for fear it would upset her. But everyone was quiet, with just a little sniffling as if they were all at the tail end of bad colds.
And in a few days, talk of young Lester Wood was over.
Something stuck with Ellie, though. And she went to Bullet with it.
Ellie would come home after school and wander down to the doghouse. Bullet, chained up, would be lying on his side in the sun, dreaming of rabbits, Ellie figured.
Ellie would drop down on the dirt and stroke Bullet’s stomach. The dog would look at her, grunt, thump his tail, sigh hard and close his eyes again. Ellie stayed with him for a while for comfort.
It was what she needed. Comfort. She couldn’t figure it out because she’d never liked Lester Wood that much, so it wasn’t her loss that he was dead.
She would whisper now and then to Bullet what was on her mind.
“I sure am glad you’re here, Bullet,” she would say. “I sure hope you’re here a long time. Longer than me.”
She’d scratch under his chin.
“Glad we’re all here,” she’d say. “Everybody.”
Bullet would thump his lazy tail.
“Glad we’re not dead,” Ellie would whisper.
One thing she and Okey did together, the one thing that set her apart from her mother and her sisters, was the target practice. They had given up on any real hunting since the deer. Ellie realized she wouldn’t be able to kill anything. But she handled a gun well, so the practice had become important to her.
The Saturday after Lester was buried, Okey set up some cans and bottles on the fence posts and stood outside with Ellie and her gun.
Ellie raised the rifle and shot off a can. Then another one. She missed a bottle. Bullet started barking because he wanted to hunt. And Okey cussed when she missed.
“What are you doing, girl? Aiming at the skinny part on top?”
Ellie shook her head. She took aim again. But she hesitated. She needed more room. More space. She moved off, away from Okey, to aim again.
“Moving around’s not gonna help,” Okey complained.
Ellie lowered the gun, looked hard at him, then raised it to aim again. Okey shifted to his other foot.
Ellie lowered the gun again.
“Daddy, you’re making me nervous.”
Okey raised hi
s eyebrows.
“What am I doing to make you nervous?”
“You moved,” Ellie answered.
“I didn’t. I been standing right here all the time.”
“You scooted a little.”
“I don’t never scoot, girl.”
“Well, your body leaned the other way, Daddy.”
Okey looked at her with his mouth half open.
“I think you’re plumb crazy. Now, are you gonna shoot or not?”
Ellie sighed and turned toward the targets again. She raised her rifle.
“Now stay there, Daddy.”
“What’s it look like I’m doing?”
Ellie lowered her rifle again.
“Daddy, how far can a bullet travel? I mean, when I miss that bottle, how far does the bullet keep going? I mean, can it go for a mile if it doesn’t hit a tree or something?”
Okey looked at her carefully.
“What is it you need to know, Ellie?” he finally asked.
“I need to know what I just asked you.”
“Well, I never heard such a fool question. How come you’re interested all of a sudden in how far them bullets go?”
Ellie looked down at the ground.
“I don’t want to kill nobody, Daddy.”
“Shoot, them bottles and cans are about as dead as they’ll ever be.”
Ellie shook her head.
“I’m afraid, Daddy. Of an accident.” She looked over at him. “Afraid I might shoot somebody. Maybe you. Like what happened to Lester.”
Okey looked off toward the trees.
“I figure I got more sense than to walk in front of a gun, girl.”
“But, Daddy, I don’t mean you making a mistake. I mean me. I mean, I’m just as dumb as Lester was. Why, dumber. He was running for class president. Now, if he can be that smart and that stupid and get shot, Daddy, I figure I can be stupider and shoot somebody.”
Ellie’s eyes watered.
“I’m scared, Daddy.”
Okey kept his gaze on the woods. Both were silent. Ellie prayed he’d understand. That she wouldn’t lose him, wouldn’t lose what she had with him.
“Well,” he finally said, “I reckon you just need a breather. Some time to get over Lester. Time away from the gun.”
Ellie fought against the tears.
Okey walked over and took the rifle from her hands.
“You want to help me fix Bullet’s roof? Needs some new tar paper.”
So Ellie helped him do that. He told some awful jokes. And he sang a song about a blue-eyed daisy, which made Ellie blush, though she wasn’t sure why.
No one seemed to really mind the change in things.
Best Friends
ELLIE AND CAROLYN OAKS AT SCHOOL DECIDED TO BE best friends. Ellie admired Carolyn because she had long red hair. Carolyn admired Ellie because she was thin. Neither of them wanted to be a sixth-grade cheerleader and neither of them had a boyfriend. And they both liked dogs.
They sold enough old pop bottles to go into town with some money one Saturday. Carolyn’s dad drove them and dropped them off in front of G. C. Murphy’s. They had one hour to shop and two hours to see a movie; then, he said, he’d be back for them. Carolyn’s dad drove a milk truck for a living, so Ellie figured he didn’t mind the extra running around. Okey would have told them to walk—both ways.
The first thing Ellie and Carolyn did was head into Murphy’s to the picture booth. They giggled and sputtered, trying to squeeze through the skinny doorway at the same time. Then they scrunched up together on the one stool inside and pulled the curtains closed. Anyone standing outside would have just seen their old jeans and sneakers.
Ellie dug into her pocket for the quarter, jabbing an elbow into Carolyn’s side and making her howl. Ellie dropped the coin in the slot.
“Okay, here it comes!” yelled Carolyn. “Smile!” She poked her finger into Ellie’s ribs and made her scream. Flash.
They were both laughing so hard, tears were coming and their mouths were big as caves. Flash.
“Wait! Wait! Don’t laugh!” giggled Ellie, and they both twisted their mouths into frowns as hard as they could, their bodies still quaking with laughter and their eyes wet with the effort to hide it. Flash.
“Okay, let’s get up real close and make a face!” Carolyn gasped, right after the flash. So they leaned forward right into the camera, pushed their noses up like a pig’s, stuck out their tongues, pulled down their eyes to show the bloody part beneath the white and held it. Flash.
They burst into giggles again and stepped on each other getting out. Now that people could see them, they tried to compose themselves. But their shoulders shook and their eyes teared and they hid their heads against the side of the booth in hilarious embarrassment.
It took three minutes for the pictures to come out. It seemed ages, though, and they were just about to go look for the store manager when the skinny sheet of photos slid into the box.
They took one look, then screamed with laughter. They hung onto each other, overcome, then ducked back into the booth and pulled the curtain so no one could see them giggling like hyenas as they looked at themselves.
After a few minutes they emerged, dry-eyed, mildly grinning, and headed for the soda fountain.
They ate banana splits and potato chips, bursting into only an occasional giggle, then hit Main Street.
Halfway down toward the movie theater, Ellie spotted some rings in a jeweler’s window. The sign read, “Friendship Rings.” They went in.
The rings were wide like wedding bands and decorated with fancy swirls. The idea was to get matching rings, swearing friendship and loyalty as best friends.
“You want to, Ellie?” Carolyn asked.
Ellie took a good look at the box of rings.
“Sure, why not?” She didn’t want Carolyn to know how much one would mean to her.
“We’ll take two!” Carolyn told the jeweler.
The rings were two dollars apiece, so their money was gone except for what they’d saved for the movie. But Ellie slid on her size four and Carolyn slid on her size six and they left the shop feeling forever bound.
The matinee was a horror film called Creatures of the Dark, and Ellie and Carolyn got so scared that twice they had to run out to the lobby to wait for the creatures to finish somebody off. They watched the ladies pop popcorn, admired their friendship rings again and read every line of the “Coming Soon” movie posters. Then they went back inside for more.
After the movie, they found Carolyn’s dad waiting for them in front of the theater, just as he’d promised. He drove Ellie all the way home. She prayed the house would be silent when they pulled in front, and it was. Mr. Oaks turned around in the driveway, and Carolyn waved out the window until the car disappeared down the mountain road.
That night Ellie looked at the pictures from Murphy’s. They’d agreed to take turns keeping the picture sheet, until one day they’d each choose their two favorites and cut the sheet up. But this first night the pictures were with Ellie.
She loved the look of them—all the gray and brown that hid the things about her that weren’t pretty. She liked the slick paper and the lingering smell of chemicals.
Ellie stood the picture sheet up on the chest of drawers and threatened to smack her sisters if they touched it.
She decided not to remove her ring at all. Even when she washed. If it turned green and rusty … well, that was better than taking the ring off.
Ellie had a best friend. She was happy.
Elite Sees a Fit
IT WAS A NORMAL DAY AT SCHOOL AND ELLIE WAS IN the middle of geography when one of the boys had a fit.
Mrs. Richmond, the teacher, was explaining the culture of Brazil when Harvey McPeak in the third row went into a fit. One minute Mrs. Richmond was talking coffee beans and the next minute she had grabbed a ruler and run for Harvey’s desk.
“John, get Mr. Woodrum!” she yelled. They all knew it was serious if the principal was being called.
Ellie couldn’t see well because she sat in the back row, but it was plain that Mrs. Richmond was sticking the ruler in Harvey’s mouth. Ellie felt sick to her stomach. She knew she was going to throw up, but if she threw up it would only make things worse for poor Mrs. Richmond—so she didn’t.
By the time Mr. Woodrum ran into the room with John, Harvey was lying in a dead faint, Mrs. Richmond was crying, three of the girls were crying, everyone was scared and Ellie knew she’d have to throw up. So she ran for the bathroom while Mr. Woodrum put things in order.
When she got back, shaky and pale green, Harvey and Mr. Woodrum were gone, Mrs. Richmond was drinking a glass of water and wiping her eyes with a tissue and the room sounded like a beehive.
Ellie eased herself into her desk. She looked across at Randy Meadows.
“Harvey dead?” she asked.
“Naw,” said Randy. “He came to and walked out with Mr. Woodrum. But he could have been dead. Could have swallowed his tongue, if Mrs. Richmond didn’t have that ruler.”
Ellie’s stomach went sour again.
“Could’ve what?”
“Swallowed his tongue,” Randy answered. “I know because my cousin Ed takes fits and everybody says you have to make sure he doesn’t swallow his tongue.”
“But how …” Ellie began.
“Beats me. But I heard a girl over at Daniels Elementary died last year and that was why.”
Ellie didn’t say anything. She wished Carolyn was with her, but Carolyn was in music.
Mrs. Richmond finally got the class settled and back on the subject of coffee beans. Ellie wasn’t listening, though. She didn’t listen to anything the rest of geography. She was wondering what brought on fits.
Carolyn was loaded with questions at lunch.
“Well, what was it like, Ellie? I mean, did you see him? Was it awful? Were you scared?”
Ellie said she didn’t see him, it wasn’t awful, she wasn’t scared. She didn’t want to talk about it so she asked Carolyn about Jim in music and that took care of that.
But she took the story of Harvey McPeak home to Okey.
“Well,” he said. “I’ve heard of them but never seen one. We never had no fits on our side of the family. I can’t speak for your mother’s.”
A Blue-Eyed Daisy Page 3