The next morning dawned cloudy. Too bad for Heather, Allison thought. She pulled on a heavy tweed sweater and corduroy trousers, then she packed some lighter things just in case the weather changed. At the last minute she even threw in a swimsuit.
But what about a birthday present for Heather? She hadn’t thought about that. What could she give? She couldn’t exactly run down to Macy’s. Macy’s! What had she done with the perfume she’d bought? She pulled the suitcases out of the closet. There, tucked in a deep side pocket, was the small white box. She pulled it out and spotted the letter from Marsha’s secret closet. She’d forgotten all about it! She would read it again later and perhaps show it to Grandpa. Or would it only dredge up more bad feelings about her father? What did the letter mean, anyway? Did it have anything to do with what Muriel had said? Allison tucked it back into the suitcase pocket, deciding to figure it out later. Right now the smell of bacon drifted into her room with a promise of breakfast.
“I was just wondering if you were going to get up this morning, Allison,” Grandpa teased when she entered the dining room. He sipped his coffee at the big dining room table.
“I was getting something for Heather’s birthday.” Allison took a swallow of orange juice. “Maybe I’ll take her some roses, too, if that’s okay.”
“You bet! Take her some for me, as well. Heather’s such a nice lassie. I’m happy you met her so soon.”
“Does she go to school?” Allison asked. “I mean . . . since she’s blind.”
“You bet she does,” Grandpa replied. “Between Grace and the boys, Heather gets around just fine. She’s quite an independent gal, considering. We’ve tried to stock the Tamaqua school with plenty of Braille books. Next year she’ll start high school in Port View—I hope she’ll do all right there.”
“Where’s Port View?”
“It’s a large town south of here—about twenty miles. All the kids here ‘bouts go to Port View High.”
“Hellooo?” called a female voice down the hallway. “I knocked but no one answered, so I let myself in.”
Allison turned in surprise to see Shirley. She looked like an advertisement for a fashion magazine. Her bright red clam diggers and red-and-white-striped jersey were a bit on the snug side. Her hair was styled high and tied with a red silk scarf that matched her earrings and lipstick. Her perfume preceded her and nearly ruined Allison’s breakfast.
“Come on in, Shirley. Care for some coffee or tea?” Grandpa offered.
“I’ll take a cup of coffee,” Shirley said, plopping down across from Allison. Grandpa picked up the newspaper, and Allison quickly finished up her last piece of toast.
“Excuse me, I’m going out to cut some roses for Heather,” Allison said, thankful for a reason to escape her unwanted guest.
“Oh murder! I forgot it’s a birthday picnic. Dear Mr. O’Brian, you won’t mind if I cut some flowers, too?” Grandpa nodded absently.
Allison glared at Shirley. Why did Shirley have to copy her? Allison forced a smile and held the door open.
Out in the garden, Shirley cut a little of everything, ending up with the wildest bouquet Allison had ever seen. Good thing Heather didn’t have to look at it! Allison selected several sweet rosebuds and ran upstairs to get her things.
She glimpsed at her image in the mirror. It looked rather plain in contrast to Shirley’s exotic outfit. She shook her head and rolled her eyes, remembering her own days of masquerading in New York. From now on she’d rather be fourteen. She scooped up her bag and skipped down the stairs.
George dropped the two girls off at Grace’s and waved good-bye. Winston ran up to Allison but stopped short when he saw Shirley. He eyed her up and down, then turned to Allison.
“I saw a dead porcupine on the road yesterday! It was flatter than a pancake, with blood and everything!” he exclaimed. Allison laughed, while Shirley backed off and gave them both an odd look.
“Come on over here, ladies,” Andrew called from the porch. “Shirley, come and meet the rest of the troops.”
“Oh, don’t you just love his accent,” Shirley gushed to Allison. Andrew quickly dispensed with introductions and continued to load the jalopy.
“Heather,” Allison whispered. “I have a present for you. Should I give it to you here or wait till later?”
“No time like now!” Heather smiled. She fingered and smelled the dainty rosebuds. “Oh, they’re lovely, Allison. I’ll bet they’re pink.”
“How do you know?” Allison gasped.
“I don’t know . . . they just smell so pretty and . . . pink.” They laughed and Heather ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the box. It was embossed with little flowers. She felt each one in detail. Finally she opened it. Her fingers traced the pear shape of the smooth glass bottle and gently opened the lid. “ ’Tis marvelous, Allison. It smells just like a meadow of wild flowers.”
“Oh, here you go, Heather,” Shirley said, holding the flowers a few feet from Heather. “Look, aren’t they just gorgeous?”
Heather laughed lightly, and Allison couldn’t help but giggle, too.
“What’s so funny?” Shirley asked. “I think they look real colorful and pretty. Sorry I didn’t have a chance to buy you a nicer present.” She stood before the two girls, awkwardly holding her flowers with a puzzled look.
Allison looked up at Shirley’s dazzling bright outfit and ridiculous bouquet and burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter.
“I’m sorry, Shirley,” Heather apologized between giggles. “It’s just that I can’t see your gift.” She exploded, “Because I’m blind!” She and Allison practically rolled off the porch in hysterics. Tears streamed down their cheeks, and Allison thought her sides would burst.
“Real funny! Blind . . . yeah sure!” Shirley muttered in disgust.
“It’s true,” Andrew said seriously. “But hey, what’s the joke with you two?”
Heather and Allison couldn’t even speak they were so overcome with hilarity. Allison tried to explain between giggles, and before long their mirth became contagious and Andrew burst out laughing, too. Shirley stood in the yard with an exasperated expression, the flowers hanging limply in her hand.
“All right, you clowns,” Grace said. “I think this is the last box.” She handed it to Andrew. “It’ll be a bit tight, but I think the girls can ride in front and the fellows in back.”
Shirley climbed into the truck silently. Allison figured she was in shock. Grace, Heather, and Allison sang songs from the hit parade all the way to Arrowhead Rock.
“Do you know that Bing Crosby one?” Heather asked. “You know, ‘Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy. . . .’ ” They sang it until everyone burst into laughter. Everyone but Shirley. She just sat in silence.
“Oh, Heather, the sun decided to show up for your birthday!” Allison exclaimed as they pulled into the parking lot. They carried the picnic supplies to a table near the beach. It was a perfect little cove protected from the wind, with a nice big strip of beach. Out in the water stood a gigantic rock shaped like an arrowhead.
“When the tide’s out you can wade right up to the rock, but at high tide you swim out to it and climb up to the top,” Heather explained.
“Have you climbed it?” Allison asked.
“Only once. Of course, Andrew helped me.” Heather smiled proudly. “Come on, Al, let’s get our feet wet.” They kicked off their shoes and rolled up their pants. Heather grabbed Allison’s hand and together they ran into the surf. Allison relished the feeling of being called Al. It made her feel wanted.
“That Shirley is really something else,” Heather commented when they were well out of earshot.
“You said it,” Allison replied, marveling at her friend’s intuition.
“Andrew admitted he was forced into inviting her.” Heather swished her toe through the wave.
“That’s about right. Actually, she kind of invited herself.”
“She’s probably just lonely. I guess we shoul
d be nice to her. I feel bad about what happened on the porch, but it just struck me so funny. I’ll have to try harder.”
Allison decided for Heather’s sake she’d make an effort, too. They found a warm bank of sun-baked sand to thaw out their feet.
“You know, Allison, I can tell you exactly what you look like,” Heather remarked as she leaned back on the sand.
“Come on, Heather,” Allison laughed. “You were right about the roses, but can you describe people, too?”
“Uh-huh. Now, let me think. . . . You have reddish hair, almost auburn, and it glistens in the sun like copper.” Allison was amazed. “Your skin is creamy white, sprinkled with a few freckles, just enough to give personality. And you have big brown, no, green—well, now, I’m not sure about the color. But they’re pretty eyes—”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Allison interrupted. “Grace talked to you!”
Heather laughed with glee. “Had you going, didn’t I? But you’re wrong . . . it wasn’t Grace. It was Andrew.”
Allison didn’t reply. She wondered if those were Andrew’s words or Heather’s. It surprised her how much she hoped they were Andrew’s. She glanced over her shoulder to see Andrew and Shirley down by the water’s edge. Winston was digging in the sand nearby. An unexpected twinge of jealousy shot through Allison.
“Lunchtime!” Grace called. Allison leaped up, grabbed Heather’s hand, and they dashed to the table.
“I’m so sorry, Grace,” Allison said. “I didn’t even offer to help.”
“There was nothing to it. It was just a matter of setting everything out.” She filled another glass of lemonade. There were deviled eggs, fried chicken, potato salad, rolls, coleslaw, and pickles, all arranged nicely across the red-checkered cloth. They stood around the table, but no one moved for the food. Then Grace grasped Heather’s hand on one side and Winston’s on the other. Andrew followed suit holding Allison’s and Shirley’s, and they formed a circle.
“Father in heaven,” Grace began. “Thank you for all you’ve done for us and for this fine day. Thank you for our new friends, Allison and Shirley. Please bless this food. And richly bless Heather as she celebrates her birthday today. Amen.”
Allison tried to concentrate on the prayer, but all she could think about was that Andrew was holding her hand. And it distracted her even more to think he was also holding Shirley’s. Soon they were all digging in and heaping their plates.
“Everything was too delicious, Grace. I’m incredibly stuffed,” Allison moaned as she finished her last bite.
“Heather, come see the neat dead crab I found. He’s this big.” Winston stretched Heather’s arms about a foot apart.
“Are you sure about that, Winston?” Heather asked skeptically. She let him take her by the hand. Andrew wandered off and Shirley trailed after him.
“I’ll help you clean up, Grace,” Allison offered, trying not to notice how Shirley seemed to be magnetized to Andrew. Instead, she kept herself busy by cleaning up the picnic, and soon the food was all nicely packed away. Heather and Winston were down on the beach, but Andrew and Shirley were nowhere in sight. That bothered Allison some, but the most troublesome part was that it irritated her, too. She hardly even knew Andrew. Why should she care if he wanted to spend time with Shirley? Besides, Allison had come for Heather’s sake. And since Heather was occupied, Allison decided this was her chance to find out what Grace might know about her dad.
“Grace,” Allison began, “I’ve been dying to know just how it was that you knew my dad.”
Grace shook the food scraps off the plaid woolen blanket and spread it on the sand. She sat down, slipped off her sneakers, and dug her toes into the sand. “Well, Allison, we met in high school and became friends.” Grace turned and looked at her. “Just how much do you really want to know?”
“Everything!” Allison demanded with a smile.
“Everything? That might take a while. . . .” Grace sighed and pulled the pretty silk scarf off her head. She ran her fingers through her hair and shook out her shiny chestnut curls.
“Just start at the beginning and we’ll see how far you get. We can always take it in stages. And from the looks of things, Grace, you’re the only one who’s going to tell me anything about my father.”
Grace eyed Allison quizzically. “Let’s see . . . we met when I was sixteen. My folks had just moved from Portland to Port View. I hated it at first, until I met James—then my world changed. We were in art class together. Most of the boys thought art class was a joke, but not James. He took it seriously and it showed. Everyone loved his work. He even sold a few pieces to teachers. We had our first date right before Thanksgiving—the Harvest Ball. . . .” Grace stared out over the horizon.
“You mean you were sweethearts?” Allison asked in amazement. Grace nodded and Allison was stunned.
“Hey, you lazy beach bums,” Winston yelled as he and Heather approached the blanket. “Don’t you want to go for a swim with us, Allison?” Just then Andrew and Shirley walked up.
“Sounds like a good plan, little man,” Andrew said as he grabbed Winston and threw him over his shoulder. Winston squealed in delight. Allison looked at Grace longingly. She’d happily pass up a swim to hear the rest of this story.
“More later,” Grace promised, pushing Allison to her feet.
They gathered their beach bags and trekked to the dressing rooms. Heather and Allison changed quickly and dashed out. Allison glanced down at Marsha’s Kelly green swimsuit, the most modest one that Allison could find in Marsha’s things. It was a little more sophisticated than she was used to, but at least she liked the color.
“Heather, do you want me to braid your hair so it doesn’t get all tangled in the water?” Allison offered. Heather agreed, and they sat in the sand while she carefully braided Heather’s long golden curls into one thick braid down her back. “Your hair is so beautiful. In your blue swimsuit, you look just like a mermaid.” Heather laughed, and soon the others joined them.
Allison blinked in astonishment when she saw Shirley’s bathing suit. It was a metallic-looking thing with gold reptile-like scales. It also appeared Shirley had touched up her makeup. Allison was about to describe Shirley’s strange appearance to Heather, but the others were approaching.
“Last one in’s a rotten egg!” yelled Winston.
“He sure likes gross things,” Allison commented with a laugh. Heather giggled and reached for her hand.
“Allison,” she said seriously. “Will you stay with me in the water? I mean, I know how to swim and everything, but I’m a little uncomfortable in the ocean. The waves can throw me for a loop. Andrew usually stays with me, but I don’t know where he went. Is he with Shirley again?”
“Where else?” Allison answered. She glanced back at Heather and saw the ocean reflected in her dark green sunglasses. She tried to imagine what it felt like to be blind. Heather seemed so normal, Allison found herself forgetting about her lack of sight. They waded in together, hand in hand. The waves were small and calm in the cove.
“It’s freezing! Sure you want to do this?” Allison asked.
“You’ll get used to it,” reassured Heather. Soon they were swimming and splashing. Together they swam the short way to the end of the large rock that jutted into the bay. Winston and Andrew took turns climbing high and jumping off into the deep end.
“That looks like fun,” Allison said.
“Come on up,” Andrew called.
“Yeah, unless you’re a sissy,” Winston teased.
“Go ahead, Allison, I’ll be okay,” Heather said. Shirley sat nearby on the edge of the rock, her feet in the water.
“Shirley, you keep an eye on Heather,” Allison commanded. Allison climbed out and scurried up the rock. Heights usually didn’t scare her, but when she got up to the boys she was a bit surprised at how far away the water seemed.
“It’s easy,” Winston said proudly. “You just plug your nose like this and leap way out.” And off he went with a piercing scream.
“It’s pretty safe as long as you do it at high tide—like now,” Andrew said. Allison looked over the edge with uncertainty.
“What’s the matter, Allison, chickening out? Afraid of the water?” Shirley taunted. Shirley, who hadn’t even gotten wet yet, had walked out on the rock without swimming.
“Allison, don’t jump if you don’t want to,” Andrew advised. “It’s no big deal, you know.”
“No—I’m not afraid,” Allison replied. She stood on the rock, her toes clinging to the edge, and looked down. The water seemed to get even farther away.
“Heather!” Winston suddenly screamed. “Heather disappeared beneath the water!”
Without a second thought, Allison leaped from the rock. She plunged down deep into the water and opened her eyes and looked around for Heather. Just as she began to come up, she saw Heather’s long golden braid floating under the water just a few feet away. Allison gave a big kick in Heather’s direction and grabbed for the braid. Fighting to the surface, she pulled Heather behind her. Both girls came up sputtering out of the water.
“Heather!” Allison gasped. “Are you okay?”
“Yes . . . I think so. Why did you pull me by the hair?”
“I was rescuing you!” Allison exclaimed. By now the others had gathered nearby.
“What happened?” Andrew demanded.
“She just disappeared!” Winston cried. “I was so scared. Heather was gone—I thought she drowned!”
“I lost my sunglasses,” Heather explained. “I felt them slip off and down my leg, so I tried to dive for them. I took a deep breath and dove as deep as I could and reached all around, but I couldn’t find them. The next thing I knew, someone was tugging me by the hair.”
Allison O'Brian on Her Own Page 11