by Linda Byler
Lizzie shot Emma an angry look without answering. Emma was always good, that’s just how it was. Lizzie did not want to stay at Lavina Lapp’s house, and she did not want to be in the house alone at night without Dat. Besides, she was sure Malinda Zook would play her harmonica, then Lizzie would get the blues and have to go into her dark bedroom all alone.
“Why can’t we go along?” Lizzie asked.
“Lizzie, you have to go to school. You can’t go along this time,” Dat said firmly.
Lizzie turned and walked slowly into the living room. Her eyes blurred with tears, but she would not cry. She sat on the blue platform rocker, smoothing her hands along the swans’ heads on the arms. She rocked back and forth, thinking about Malinda Zook. She was a good maud when she helped Mam work, but for some reason, Lizzie thought she was bossy. She had told Lizzie that little girls should always put their toys away after they were done playing with them, and Lizzie could see absolutely no sense in that. If you got out a book, looked at it, and put it away, then got another one and soon put that one away, there was no use even reading. It was the same way with her dolls, puzzles, or whatever. She solemnly vowed to herself that if she was ever a maud, she would never tell someone else’s children to put their toys away.
“What is wrong with Mommy Miller?” Lizzie heard Emma ask Mam.
“The doctors don’t really know yet. They want to take some tests at the hospital in Baxter, but Mommy won’t. You know how she is, Emma—she’s probably afraid it would cost too much.”
“Is she coughing, or does her stomach hurt, or what?” Emma asked.
“I really don’t know, Emma. I’m just so anxious to go and be with her, and find out more about the reason for losing her strength like this.” Mam put away the empty lunchboxes while Emma set the table for the evening meal. Mam started peeling potatoes, glancing out the kitchen window repeatedly. Dat had gone to ask Malinda to stay with the girls, so she was anxiously awaiting his return.
Supper was much more quiet than usual, spoons and forks scraping loudly against their dinner plates. Dat kept glancing anxiously at Mam, who was barely eating, her head bent, trying to keep her emotions in check for the girls’ sake. Malinda had given her consent, so Mam had to pack their suitcase that evening, because they had to catch the train very early the next morning.
Lizzie tried hard to be a good girl. She knew it was selfish to complain, so she ate her supper in silence. At least the food on her plate was comforting. The mashed potatoes had brown butter floating across the top, and the ground beef gravy was a bit too salty—exactly the way Lizzie liked it. Mam had put a few slices of Velveeta cheese on top of the green beans, which made them easier to eat. Green beans were so flat tasting, unless you dipped them in ketchup.
So Lizzie scooped up a forkful of mashed potatoes and gravy, enjoying the taste of the salty, greasy meat. She felt grateful for the good food on her plate, even if Dat and Mam had to go to Ohio.
That evening when Mam tucked them in, her eyes were bright with tears. She told the girls if they were good for Malinda, she would bring them something nice when they came home. Mam was like that, Lizzie thought. She could hardly bear to leave them, and always brought them a small gift. Lizzie put her arms around Mam’s neck and held her more closely than usual, because she would be gone in the morning.
“Can Malinda Zook comb our hair?” she asked worriedly.
“Oh, yes. She can good enough for a few days, Lizzie,” Mam assured her. When she closed the door softly behind her, Lizzie had never quite felt so alone. She lay for a long time, staring at the square of light on the ceiling, wishing with all her heart Mommy Miller did not have to be sick.
· · · · ·
In the morning, Lizzie stretched lazily, quite happy and relaxed, until she remembered that Dat and Mam were gone. Then she snapped her body rigidly, and pulled herself into a tight curl, pulling the covers over her head. She lay there in the soft darkness, not wanting to come out from under those covers, ever. Emma awoke and slapped the top of the covers.
“Lizzie! Where are you?” she whispered.
Lizzie peeped out and said, “Emma, I guarantee Malinda Zook does not know how to roll our hair right.”
Emma giggled. “Lizzie, you don’t know,” she said.
Lizzie threw back the covers. “You can laugh, Emma, but it’s not funny.”
“Girls!”
They held perfectly still at the sound of a strange voice calling them. Lizzie whispered to Emma, “Answer!”
Emma whispered back, “You do!”
“Girls! It’s time to get up!”
Emma cleared her throat. “Alright.”
Steps receded across the living room and Lizzie looked sourly at Emma. “Why did you say ‘alright?’ That was dumb. We always just say, ‘Hmm.’”
“Well, you could have answered.”
“No, you’re the oldest.”
“Lizzie, if you act this way when Mam and Dat are in Ohio, I’m going to tell them when they come home. I mean it.”
Lizzie yanked at her purple dress. The metal coat hanger clattered to the floor and Emma told her to pick it up. Lizzie didn’t pick it up, because Emma was being too bossy. She did help her make their bed, knowing if she didn’t at least try to behave, Emma most certainly would tell their parents about her behavior. Lizzie knew that between Malinda Zook and Emma, it was going to seem like a long time until Dat and Mam returned.
Malinda was short, with wavy brown hair and a crisp, clean white covering. She had on a light blue dress with a gray apron, and was bustling around the kitchen, packing their lunchboxes. There was a delicious smell coming from the frying pan on the stove, and Lizzie watched as she turned bacon with a fork.
Bacon! Lizzie’s mouth watered, because bacon was a treat for them. Mam almost never bought bacon from the meat man, because it was too expensive. Lizzie loved bacon, so without thinking, she walked over to Malinda and asked, “Where did you get bacon?”
Malinda put her hands on her hips and said, “Don’t I even get a ‘good morning’ or a ‘hello’ or anything?”
Lizzie looked up shyly and giggled. “Hello!”
“That’s better. Good morning, Emma. Mandy is still sleeping in your parents’ room. Should I wake her?” she asked.
Emma looked seriously at Malinda and said quietly, “Probably. She goes to school now, too.”
“Oh, Lizzie, we just butchered two hogs, so I brought some fresh sausage and bacon for you. Do you like it?” Malinda asked.
“Oh, yes! I love bacon!”
“Good, because we’ll have it as soon as breakfast is ready. Can you see what else should be put in your lunchboxes?”
Emma peered into her lunchbox as Lizzie opened the lid of hers. Malinda had put in sandwiches, a yellow apple, a bag of pretzels, and a small container of peaches. Lizzie looked over at Emma and wrinkled her nose as she pointed to the peaches. Emma lowered her brows and held up a finger to her lips, so Lizzie knew she should not say anything because it wasn’t polite. But they never put peaches in their lunch. Never. They were too sticky and hard to eat.
It was almost more than Lizzie could bear. Mam and Dat in Ohio, and peaches in her lunch.
Malinda made different eggs. She mixed them all together, adding milk, salt, and pepper. When they were almost done, she mixed some cheese in with them. She served them on a small plate, with three pieces of crunchy bacon and buttery toast with jelly. The eggs were so light and fluffy and cheesy that Lizzie thought they seemed more like pudding than eggs.
“Mmm!” she said.
“Mmm!” Emma answered.
Mandy giggled and Malinda smiled as they all ate that delicious breakfast together. Lizzie wasn’t even very sad, thinking of Dat and Mam in Ohio. But when Malinda combed her hair, she pulled so horribly on the snarls that tears sprang to Lizzie’s eyes. Malinda rolled her hair so tightly that Lizzie could hardly close her eyes without stretching her forehead. And when she bent her head, so Malinda could put
up her bob, she cringed with every hairpin being jabbed firmly in place. Mam was not nearly as rough, and Lizzie was glad they had only one more morning to go.
On the way to school, Emma told Lizzie her hair looked really flat. “It makes you look homely, the way she combed your hair,” Emma told her matter-of-factly.
“Yours looks the same,” Lizzie said.
“No, Lizzie, Emma is combed much nicer than you are,” Mandy said. Lizzie reached up to touch her hair, which did seem as if it was rolled a bit more flat than usual. She grimaced as she pulled it forward from under the tightly applied hairpins.
“She rolled it so tightly I can hardly close my eyes,” Lizzie muttered.
Mandy laughed. “You won’t fall asleep at your desk, then.”
Lizzie didn’t answer. There was nothing to say. If your parents were in Ohio and you had peaches in your lunch and your hair combed too tightly, there was nothing to be happy about, either. She kicked viciously at a sharp stone, sending it skittering across the road.
“Stop that!” Emma barked.
“I can kick stones if I want to!”
“Lizzie, you know what I said,” Emma replied, her voice rising on the last words in that threatening way of hers.
Lizzie didn’t say anything to that, either.
· · · · ·
That evening, after the sun had gone down and twilight crept into the living room, Emma, Mandy, and Lizzie all had the blues. It was alright if Dat and Mam were in Ohio, as long as the sun was shining, but when the shadows fell after the sun slid behind the houses, it was hard to be brave.
Malinda was writing letters at the kitchen table. She had been doing that for a very long time, Lizzie thought. She hoped Mam wouldn’t pay her too much, because she wasn’t a very good babysitter. She could at least read to Mandy.
Lizzie wandered over to the bookcase. She had read every book that was in the house, almost, except the Bible. Sometimes she read parts of it, but it was too hard to understand. It was fun to memorize verses at school, though. She wished Mam would buy more books for her, but she guessed if they couldn’t afford bacon, they couldn’t buy more books.
Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door. Actually, it was more like a banging on the screen door, which rattled horribly. Malinda jumped, and her eyes grew very large and afraid. She looked at the girls, but they just stared back at Malinda. She swallowed and rose hesitantly from her chair, keeping her hand on the back, as if for protection.
There was another bang on the screen door.
“Do your parents often have evening visitors?” Malinda asked.
“Sometimes,” Emma said.
Slowly, Malinda walked to the door and turned the knob. She bent to peer into the darkness on the porch.
“Anybody home?” boomed a very loud voice.
“Y-yes.”
“Where’s the man of the house? Don’t you know there is a pony running down the middle of the street? Only people I know who have one is you guys!” he shouted.
Malinda explained that Mr. Glick was away, but she’d be right out.
“Lizzie, get your sweater! Hurry up!” Malinda called.
Lizzie’s heart raced as she grabbed her sweater and hurried down the stairs after Malinda and the big neighbor man. It must be Dolly, she thought wildly. Oh, I hope Dolly doesn’t get hit by a car!
They hurried across the yard, while the large man tried to tell them where the pony had been. Malinda said she had no idea where this pony would go, and the man told her someone had better, because that pony was going to be killed, running around the streets in the dark.
Lizzie was so scared that her mouth was dry and her tongue felt thick and choking. Oh, please, please don’t let Dolly be killed, she thought over and over. She stopped, and the rustling of leaves left an eerie quiet. Lizzie strained to see in the darkness, but she could see nothing. And then she seemed to hear a steady, clipping sound, but she figured it was only her imagination.
Her breath came in little puffs of fear, and she strained to hear, to see, just anything to know if it was Dolly.
Clippity! Clippity! There! Now she knew it was Dolly. “Please, Dolly, come here,” she breathed.
Clippity! Clippity! Clop! Clop! Clop!
Lizzie ran, unafraid, toward the sound, knowing in her heart it was truly Dolly. A shadowy, white figure broke through the darkness as Dolly trotted in the drive. Lizzie ran as fast as she could, blindly, stumbling across the gravel, with Malinda and the neighbor man.
“Whoa, Dolly! Whoa,” she soothed, as the pony stood shaking at the barn door. “How did you get out? What happened, Dolly? Whoa, girl!” Lizzie reached out for her halter, but there was none. So she gripped her mane hairs in one hand, cupping her hand under Dolly’s chin as Malinda opened the door.
“This door isn’t latched, Lizzie,” she said.
“Well, I guess not! How else would the stupid animal have gotten out, unless he’s a ghost!” yelled the big man.
Lizzie was almost crying with relief and excitement, so she didn’t trust her voice to say anything. Dolly was not a stupid animal—she was a smart pony, and someone had left the door open or she would never have run away.
Malinda thanked the man for telling them about Dolly, and he walked out the gravel driveway, muttering under his breath.
Malinda helped Lizzie find Dolly’s stable with the aid of a flashlight, where they secured the gate tightly. As they shut the barn door and shuffled through piles of leaves, Lizzie looked up to Malinda and said, “Thank you, Malinda.”
“For what?” she asked.
“For helping me catch Dolly.”
“Well, you did, Lizzie.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
“You sure did,” Malinda replied.
Lizzie’s heart swelled with pride and happiness. She decided then and there that she liked Malinda as well as Rachel, even if she put peaches in their lunch and combed their hair too flat. Malinda was really nice.
chapter 20
Another Trip to Ohio
After Mam and Dat returned, Lizzie’s life settled into the normal routine. School days followed in quick succession, with Lizzie learning more every week. Mandy was a good pupil in first grade, so Lizzie was no longer nervous about that.
The air turned colder again, with leaves swirling at their feet when they walked past the woods on their way to school. Mam had to make Emma and Lizzie new coats for winter, but she handed down Lizzie’s coat for Mandy. She had to open some seams and make the coat smaller, because Mandy was so thin.
The coats were slippery on the inside, because the coat lining was a heavy material. Lizzie loved the feeling of wearing a new coat with a slippery inside, because if she held out her arms and turned first one way, then quickly in the opposite direction, her coat swished around her, making her feel like she was being twirled. Emma told her to stop that, because it looked as if she was dancing. Lizzie couldn’t see anything wrong with holding out her arms and twirling around, so she didn’t stop. Emma walked ahead, but Mandy stayed with Lizzie and giggled.
More and more, Mandy was Lizzie’s playmate at home. Emma was ten years old now, and loved to sweep the floor, bake cookies all by herself, and watch Mam at the sewing machine. Sometimes Mam even let Emma sew all by herself, and Emma could make little homemade handkerchiefs that were hemmed well for a ten-year-old.
Lizzie did not enjoy housework at all. She didn’t care if the toys were scattered all over the living room, or if the dishes went unwashed, as long as she didn’t need to do it. So Lizzie and Mandy played in the yard or playhouse. They picked up the bruised or partly rotten apples from beneath the apple tree, put them on the wagon, and threw them to the neighbor’s hogs, whose pasture was across the alley. Lizzie loved to watch the hogs eat. She often wished she was one, being allowed to slurp all you wanted, because it was the proper pig thing to do.
Sometimes they watched Evelyn’s husband, Jim, feed the hogs. There was a long, narrow iron trough on the groun
d, and he flung a big bucket of finely ground grain along the trough. Then he filled it with water. The hogs chomped, slurped, and slopped their way along the trough. Sometimes when they were greedy, they even put in their two front feet. Lizzie and Mandy squealed with excitement when they did that.
There were lots of other interesting things to do in the fall. They picked up hickory nuts, breaking off the heavy outer shell, which was divided into four pieces. These pieces looked exactly like little slices of a cantaloupe, except they were brown and a cantaloupe was orange. But they played with them, putting them carefully on their dolls’ plates as cantaloupe.
One evening Lizzie and Mandy got too cold, playing in the yard, so they went through Dat’s harness shop to go upstairs and warm themselves. They ran through the entrance, laughing and talking, but stopped instantly when Dat said, “Lizzie!” His face looked so sad and so terrible that Lizzie knew something was very seriously wrong.
“What?” She turned toward Dat, rubbing her hands together to warm them. Dat got down on one knee, taking Mandy’s hand, and told them quietly that Mommy Miller had died that afternoon. They had just received the message, and now they must go to Ohio in a few hours. Dat’s eyes were very blue and filled with tears, so Lizzie knew he was awfully sad about Mommy Miller.
“Go upstairs to Mam, Lizzie. You need to have a bath and help her,” Dat said.
“But … but … how soon are we going? Right now? On the train?” Lizzie was a bit confused, because everything was happening so fast.
“No, with a driver. It’s faster. Now go.”
They hurried up the steps to the kitchen, without finding Mam or Emma. The water was running in the bathroom, so they hurried in to find Mam leaning over the tub, bathing Jason. She turned as the girls entered, and with a small cry she gathered Mandy and Lizzie in her arms. The back of Lizzie’s dress was wet from Mam’s soapy arms, as she held them against her. Lizzie cried because Mam was crying, and also because she did not want to have Mommy Miller die. She was a kind, sweet, quiet Mommy, who made mush and milk and custard pie. But Lizzie understood death now, because Susie had died, so it was not as confusing anymore.