Then she felt her seat shift as Wesley leaned heavily forward on the desk behind her. Wesley! Why hadn’t she thought of him before? Quickly she scribbled him a note and dropped it over her shoulder onto his desk: Wes—will you please copy the problems for me? I can’t see them. Esther.
A minute later she felt a tap on her back. She reached behind her and grabbed the folded square of paper. It said: Yes. If you give me the answers to the fractions. Wes.
Esther hesitated. It would be wrong to give answers to Wes. But he would lose time helping her. And there were probably only a few fraction problems on the test. Esther squirmed in her seat. She knew she was making excuses, but if she failed her test, Miss Larson probably wouldn’t want Esther to help teach!
Another loud click of the clock’s minute hand made up her mind. Esther signaled her agreement to the plan. The problems were copied and solved. And the answers to the fractions were passed back to Wes. A minute later, Miss Larson said, “Put your pencils down, class.”
Esther heaved a big sigh. She’d finished just in time.
All was well, or so Esther thought, until Miss Larson called Wesley and Esther to her desk two hours later.
“I want to know who copied from whom on the arithmetic test,” she said. Her beautiful face was one deep frown. Her eyes were not warm and friendly as they usually were. She was angry—and at Esther, who had never, ever made a teacher angry before!
Esther’s knees wobbled. Her voice came out a shaky croak. “I-it wasn’t like that, Miss Larson—at least, not exactly,” she tried to explain. “I can’t see the blackboard. So Wes copied the problems for me. And to th-thank him I gave him the answers to the fractions. That’s all.” She was hopeful the explanation would redeem her in her teacher’s eyes. After all, she hadn’t gotten any answers, she’d only given them.
But Miss Larson did not seem any better pleased. “Cheating is cheating, no matter if you’re giving the answers or receiving them. I’m very disappointed in both of you. You will each get a zero on the test and you will stand at the front of the class for the fifteen minutes until lunch. And Esther, next time you ask someone to copy something for you, make certain their eyes are better than yours. Wesley copied three different problems wrong. It was when you both had the same mistakes that I knew something wasn’t right.”
Wesley gave Esther a lopsided grin she knew he meant to be an apology. But Esther could not grin back. She was clenching her teeth together to keep from crying. Her throat felt like it would burst with trying to keep back sobs. And her face and ears were blazing hot while the rest of her was cold as ice. She didn’t know how that could be, but it was.
The other students tried to be kind. They didn’t stare, except for the very youngest ones. But Esther had never been so ashamed.
At lunchtime she tried to eat but she couldn’t. Her throat was still too tight. And when Mary and Pamela invited her to play tag, she shook her head. “I don’t feel well,” she said, and it wasn’t a fib.
When they left, she pretended to read, but really she was imagining she was in her bedroom holding Margaret close. She had disappointed Miss Larson, her beautiful, kind teacher. She would never let Esther help teach now.
When the afternoon bell rang, Esther remembered the spelling bee. Suddenly it was more important than ever that she win. Before, she had just wanted the blue ribbon to make Ma proud of her, but now winning was a way to make her teacher proud of her again, too. Esther was determined to be the last speller standing.
Social studies and science seemed to take forever that day. But at last it was time for the bee. The third- and fourth-grade girls lined up along one wall. The boys lined up across the room. At their head was Thomas Nielson. Thomas was a better student than his twin, and Esther had heard he was a star speller. He wore such a cocky grin that Esther’s mouth went dry. Her voice squeaked when she spelled her first word. But she spelled it correctly. That was what mattered. The next time her voice didn’t squeak.
One by one, girls and boys missed words and went back to their seats. Finally, only Thomas and Esther were left. His cocky grin was gone. He frowned in concentration when Miss Larson gave him his word. For the first time he looked worried.
“Nuisance,” he repeated. “N-u . . . s-a-n-c-e. Nuisance.”
“That is incorrect,” Miss Larson said. “Esther, can you spell nuisance?”
Esther’s heart, already beating fast, drummed harder and faster still. She took a deep breath. She crossed her fingers in the folds of her skirt. “Nuisance,” she said. “N-u-i-s-a-n-c-e.” She held her breath and looked at Miss Larson.
The teacher beamed back at her. “Correct!” she announced. Excited murmurs came from the girls.
Now there was just one more word for Esther to spell. If she spelled it correctly, she would win the bee. If not, Thomas got another chance and the bee continued. Esther held her breath, waiting for the word.
“Your next word is performance, Esther.” A hush fell over the room.
Esther let out her breath. She smiled. “Performance. P-e-r-f-o-r-m-a-n-c-e.”
“Correct!” Miss Larson said. “Esther Vogel wins the bee.” All the girls clapped.
Joyfully, Esther accepted the blue ribbon from her teacher. The scalloped paper circle pinned to the top said Champion Speller. Wait until Ma saw it! And Miss Larson was smiling at her. Perhaps in time she’d forget that Esther had cheated. Perhaps she’d even give her another chance to teach the first-graders. For now, though, Esther was happy just to see her teacher’s smile and know that Miss Larson wasn’t angry at her anymore.
But at the end of the day Miss Larson handed Esther an envelope. She handed another one to Wesley. “Please give these notes to your parents,” she said. Esther felt like someone was squeezing her tight around her middle, so tight that she could barely breathe. Because she knew the note was to tell Ma and Pa she had cheated.
She whispered, “Yes, Miss Larson,” with the last bit of breath in her.
After Miss Larson walked away, Wes said, “Uh-oh.” Esther couldn’t bring herself to look at him, though. Her own fear and misery were enough to bear. Instead, she plodded toward the door on feet that felt like they did the time she’d stepped in wet cement in Chicago. And just like that time, her feet got harder and harder to lift the closer she got to home.
• • •
Mickey ran up to meet her with a wagging tail, but Esther could only pat his head. She could not get any words out. If she tried, she was sure she would burst into tears. And if she walked into the farmhouse crying, it would just make everything worse.
If only Esther could see the blackboard like everyone else. Pa and Ma were going to be so ashamed of her! Ma would never hug Esther or tell her that she loved her now. Esther had ruined everything by cheating.
She stopped at the foot of the porch steps and took the envelope out of her reader. Mr. and Mrs. Vogel was written in Miss Larson’s beautiful penmanship across the front. Esther bit her lip. She knew she had to give the letter to Ma and Pa. But she didn’t have to give it to them right away, did she? She could wait until Sunday night. That way she could still have the joy of showing Ma and Pa her blue ribbon. And she would have the weekend for storing up memories of when they were proud of her.
She swallowed. It was cowardly, she supposed. But it was the only way she could bring herself to go inside. She shoved the envelope back into her book.
Ma was knitting in the parlor when Esther walked in. Esther pulled out her blue ribbon and waved it in the air. “Look what I’ve got!” she said.
Ma stopped her knitting and looked. She nodded and smiled. “Very good,” she said. Then she started knitting again.
Tears stung Esther’s eyes. That was all Ma had to say? Didn’t she know what a good speller someone had to be to win a blue ribbon? Well, Violet would know. Her excitement would tell Ma how special the award was.
> “Look, Vi,” Esther said, thrusting the ribbon in front of her sister. “Isn’t it splendid?”
But Violet was hunched over the sewing machine. She barely glanced at the ribbon. “Just a minute, Es . . . Ma? How do I refill the bobbin?”
Ma stood up and limped slowly across the room. “I will show you,” she said.
The two had their heads together, murmuring over the machine. They seemed to have forgotten Esther was even there.
She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I’m going to my room,” she said. And when neither Ma nor Violet said anything, she climbed the stairs.
In her bedroom, Esther yanked her birthday ribbon out of her hair. She’d worn it for luck. Well, luck she’d had, but more bad than good. Esther buried the ribbon in her dresser drawer and slammed the drawer shut.
She thought of the wish she’d planned to make on her birthday—if Violet had not burned the cake. “I wish Ma would love me and hug me like Mrs. Rubinstein hugs Shirley,” she would have wished with all her might. But she hadn’t gotten to make a wish. And once Ma saw the note about Esther cheating, no wishes on earth would be powerful enough to help Esther win her love. But she still had the weekend. If school ribbons couldn’t impress Ma, she would just have to think of something else.
Esther paced back and forth next to the bed. Maybe she should ask for sewing lessons. Since Violet had been staying home, Ma had taught her how to use her machine. Just the night before, Ma had told Pa what a fine seamstress Violet was becoming. She had smiled at Violet with real pride.
Esther ran back downstairs. “Ma, will you teach me to sew, like Violet?” she asked. “Please.”
Ma shook her head. “You are too little,” she explained. “Your feet will not reach the treadle yet. When you are older, then I will teach.”
Esther trudged back upstairs. It might be years before she was big enough to sew, but all she had was two days.
Esther plunked herself onto the bed. “I have to think of something,” Esther said to Margaret, taking the doll on her lap. “But what?”
• • •
That night, Esther showed Pa her ribbon. He told her it was the finest blue ribbon he had ever seen. He told her he’d never known a champion speller before, and he smiled at her proudly. Esther felt a little better. If only Ma could have been as enthusiastic as Pa.
Still, Esther was determined to impress Ma, if not with ribbons, then with hard work.
She was the first one up from the supper table that night. She carried more dishes to the sink than Ma and Violet did together, and she dried them until they squeaked. After supper she swept the kitchen floor, and when Ma didn’t seem to notice, she called, “I’ll just sweep off the porch, too, while I’m at it.”
But when she came back inside, Ma was talking to Pa. She didn’t say, “Thank you, Esther. What a fine helper you are!” She didn’t look at Esther with pride glowing in her eyes. She didn’t say anything at all.
Esther was tired. She went up to bed early. But alone in the darkness, all she could think of was the note from Miss Larson. She kept imagining how horrified Ma and Pa would be when they read it. She hadn’t wanted to cheat. She hadn’t meant to bring shame to Ma and Pa. She hugged Margaret to her chest and sobbed into her pillow.
Maybe she should have just given them the note and gotten it over with. Putting it off was only stretching out her misery. But maybe tomorrow would be different. Maybe she would be able to make Ma and Pa proud of her for at least a little while before they found out what she’d done.
The next morning, after Esther did her chores, she brought in wood to fill the basket by the stove. She set the table for breakfast and cleared it afterward. Then she dusted the furniture in the parlor without being told. She dusted the legs and the feet of the furniture, too, not just the tops. But all Ma said was, “Shake out the cloth when you are done.”
Esther shook out the cloth. Then she shook out the rag rugs from the parlor and the kitchen. Her arms ached, and when she saw Bruno in the pasture, her heart ached, too. It was sunny and warm. How much fun a ride would be! But she went back into the house. She polished the parlor mirror with a soft cloth and vinegar. She tidied Pa’s stack of seed catalogs. Then she looked around for some other job to do. “Ma, I think I’ll wash the floor,” she announced on her way to the pantry for the mop.
“Nu,” said Ma, sounding a little annoyed. “I just waxed it yesterday. Can you not tell?”
“Oh, sure,” Esther said quickly. “Of course.” Although the truth was the floor was so scarred and stained that even Ma’s scrubbing and waxing could not make it shiny or bright. “Is there something else I could do—to help you?” she added.
Ma frowned in thought. “I cannot think of anything,” she said at last. “You have done everything already.” She smiled. “You—”
The kitchen door opened and Pa called to Ma for the peroxide. He had cut his hand working in the barn. Ma hurried to help him.
Esther felt sorry for Pa. But she felt sorry for herself, too. What had Ma been about to say?
Esther looked on as Ma bathed the cut with soap and water and then with peroxide before wrapping a bandage around it. When Pa finally headed back to the barn, Esther waited expectantly. But after Ma put away the peroxide, she took out a pot and filled it with water. She put it on the stove to hard-boil some eggs. She had forgotten whatever she was going to say to Esther.
Esther went up to her room and found Margaret. “Nothing I do seems to make any difference,” she told the doll. “Maybe that’s because I’m not being honest. Maybe God is angry at me for not giving Ma and Pa the note right away. Do you think that could be it?” Margaret’s china-blue eyes stared solemnly back at Esther. It was very clear to Esther what Margaret thought.
Esther sighed and took the envelope from her reader. She made herself stand straight and tall. Then she took the envelope downstairs to Ma. “It’s a note from my teacher,” she said in a small voice.
Ma looked surprised, but she didn’t ask what the note was about or why Esther hadn’t given it to her sooner. She just tore open the envelope and began to read. Esther, burning with shame, stared at the floor and tried not to cry. When she heard the rustle of the note being folded back into the envelope, she sneaked a quick peek at Ma’s face. There were two bright spots of red on her cheeks. Esther gulped and looked back at the floor. Ma was furious.
“This fine teacher of yours,” Ma said, “vill she buy these eyeglasses for you?”
Esther’s head snapped up. Eyeglasses? “Wh-what do you mean, Ma?” Esther’s heart did a skip and a jump. Was the letter about eyeglasses? Not cheating?
Ma tore the envelope across and then tore the pieces across one more time. “Your teacher says you cannot see vell. She says ve should buy you eyeglasses. Does she think ve are rich?” Ma sniffed. “Ve don’t have money for eyeglasses. Maybe after the harvest. But not now. Your teacher should mind her own business.”
“Yes, Ma,” Esther said automatically. But what she was thinking was, Miss Larson had not told on her. She hadn’t told! Relief made Esther want to laugh out loud. It was all right. Ma and Pa would not be ashamed of her after all. And she would never, ever cheat again.
She felt as if she could run three times around the pasture and do ten cartwheels in a row. She felt as light as a balloon that could sail away on the tiniest breeze.
Esther’s happiness continued all through the rest of the weekend. And when Monday came, she was not ashamed to face her teacher again. She knew Miss Larson had forgiven her. But even so, she was amazed by what happened that morning in school.
When it was time for arithmetic, Miss Larson came to stand beside Esther’s desk. “From now on, Esther, I want you and Wesley to come up front to copy from the board. Then you may go back to your seats to do the work. All right?”
Why, that would solve everything! “Yes, Miss Larson,�
�� Esther said happily.
“Yes, Miss Larson,” Wesley echoed.
“Good.” The teacher started to walk away but stopped and turned back only a step from Esther’s desk. “Oh, and Esther, when you finish your afternoon work, you may listen to the first-graders read aloud, one at a time, in the hallway.”
Esther felt her mouth fall open. “You mean I-I can still help teach?”
Miss Larson smiled. “Yes, Esther. If you want to.”
If she wanted to! “Oh, yes. Yes, I do!” Esther had to grip the edge of her desk to keep from jumping out of her seat, she was so happy and excited. Wait ’til I write to Julia, she thought. Wait ’til I tell her I won the spelling bee and I’m going to help teach! Won’t she be surprised!
Esther touched the birthday ribbon in her hair. She had pulled it back out of her drawer right after Ma read Miss Larson’s letter. It was a lucky ribbon after all!
7 A Sign of Warning
July 4, 1930
Dear Julia,
I hate summer. I miss school and my friends. Vi is no fun. Ma told her she can make her own school clothes if she practices making patterns and sewing. Now that is all she does! I asked Ma if she would show me how to make patterns for clothes for Margaret. She said I am too old for dolls. Thank goodness I have Mickey to play with. He fetches sticks and runs races with me. We even play hide-and-seek. Only I am always the one to hide and Mickey always finds me.
Ma has a big vegetable garden. I help her pull weeds. How come weeds grow so much faster than vegetables? I am sorry David lost his job. I hope he finds another one fast. It has been awful hot here. If we were in Chicago, we could go to the beach with you and David. Your last letter reminded me of how much fun that is. The water is so cold, but it feels so good! Or maybe we could go to Riverview and ride the rides and watch the fireworks like we did last year. But here every day is the same. Even the Fourth of July.
What the Moon Said Page 6