Mrs. Snapes’s mouth grew even tighter. “Yes,” she muttered. “It was a difficult birth, but that’s neither here nor there. Can’t nothing at all be done about it. Come with me, and I’ll show you your room. You’ll share it with Emma.”
It was a large room, but the tan-and-brown wallpaper made it look dark and dreary. Lucy thought the wallpaper was ugly. But Mrs. Snapes said, “I see you’re admiring the paper. It cost dearly, but no one’s going to say we didn’t do our best for Emma.”
Lucy put her parcel on the bed and opened it. She shook out the dress that had been packed inside and hung it inside the wardrobe. Then she put her change of underwear into the cupboard drawer Mrs. Snapes had opened.
“Only one pair of shoes?” Mrs. Snapes asked. “Well, can’t say I didn’t expect it.” She pointed at the shoes Lucy was wearing and said, “You can save those for Sundays. Until it turns cold, you can do what most of the children around here do—go barefoot.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lucy answered.
Emma picked up Baby. She mumbled something, but Lucy easily picked out one word: “Doll.”
“Yes,” Lucy said. “She’s my doll. Her name is Baby.”
“Baby,” Emma said.
“That’s right. Baby,” Lucy answered.
“I don’t know that it’s good for Emma to have you pretend to understand her,” Mrs. Snapes said.
“But I did understand her,” Lucy said. “She said ‘doll’ and ‘Baby.’ ”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Snapes said. Lucy could see the pain in her eyes. “No one’s ever been able to understand Emma. She makes sounds, but she’ll never be able to speak words. It’s like I told you. Her brain was damaged when she was born.”
“Back in New York City there was a boy named Henry,” Lucy said. “Mum could talk to Henry. He was … well … like Emma. Mum taught me to really listen to what Henry said. I could understand him, and I can understand Emma too.”
Lucy could see that Mrs. Snapes didn’t believe her. “Let’s get things straight, right from the start,” Mrs. Snapes said. “You’ll have regular chores, just as if you was one of the family. You’ll help with the tidying up and weekly cleaning. You’ll make Emma’s bed and yours each morning and change the sheets on Fridays. You’ll lend a hand with the washing, too. And you’ll set the table and do the dishes after every meal. In September you’ll go to school. I don’t much like the schooling part, but rules are rules.”
Just when Lucy thought that Mrs. Snapes was through, she added, “And you’ll watch over Emma. Keep her busy so she won’t be into tantrums or breaking things. Keep her happy.”
Partly closed curtains darkened the bedroom. But through the sun-streaked glass Lucy could see a garden and green grass.
“May I take Emma outside to play?” Lucy asked.
Mrs. Snapes thought a moment, then nodded. “If you watch her closely,” she said. “Don’t go near the well, even when it’s covered. And stay away from the near pasture where Mr. Snapes brings the bull to graze.”
Lucy held out a hand to Emma, who took it eagerly. They followed Mrs. Snapes down the stairs and through the large kitchen to the backyard. Lucy went right to the vegetable garden, hungry to taste the good things growing there.
Before Lucy could stop her, Emma pulled up two carrots. “Oh, no,” Lucy said. “How do we put them back?”
Emma gave one carrot to Lucy. Then she slapped the other carrot against her thigh, knocking off the dirt. With a loud crunch, she bit into the end of the carrot and began to chew.
Lucy did the same. The fresh, juicy, crisp carrot tasted better than any carrot she’d ever eaten in her whole life.
Lucy led Emma to a back-porch swing. Holding Baby, Lucy rocked and patted her as she sang, “Rock, rock, my baby-o. Rock, rock, my baby.”
When the song was finished, Emma grinned and clapped her hands. “Baby-o,” she said.
“All right. I’ll sing it again,” Lucy said. “My mum sang that song to me when I was sleepy or sad.”
Emma reached out toward Lucy, her fingers wiggling.
Lucy caught the hand and stroked the fingers until they were still. Then she laid them against her cheek. “You don’t know what sad is, do you, Emma?” she asked, as if she were talking to herself. “Sad is not having a mother and father anymore. Sad is wishing for new parents—happy people to love, with a baby sister to cuddle.”
Lucy’s voice cracked. A tear rolled down her cheek and onto Emma’s finger. “Sad is making a wish and finding that it will never come true,” Lucy said.
Emma pulled her hand away and studied the wet spot on her finger. Then she tugged on Lucy’s arm, saying, “Baby-o.”
Lucy sang the song over and over again for Emma, until the back door swung open. Mrs. Snapes called out, “Lucy? Time to bring Emma inside. There’s potatoes to scrub and the table to set.”
“Come on, Emma,” Lucy said. She jumped up and pulled Emma to her feet.
Lucy was glad to help with the supper and cleaning up. It was only fair to do her share in exchange for living in a cozy house with good food to eat. She was ready to try out her bed, too. It had been a long day, and she was tired.
But after supper, Mrs. Snapes handed Lucy a metal hoop and a needle and thread. “Idle hours are wasted hours,” she said. “Before bedtime you can embroider a sampler.”
“I don’t know how to embroider,” Lucy said.
Mrs. Snapes’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’ve never made a sampler?”
Embarrassed, Lucy shook her head.
Mrs. Snapes sighed. “I suppose I should have expected it. Well, it’s about time you learned.”
Mr. Snapes put down his book and said, “Mabel, the child’s worn out. Why don’t you let Lucy and Emma go to bed? You can teach Lucy needlework tomorrow.”
Mrs. Snapes studied Lucy intently. “You do look tired,” she said. “Can you help Emma to the privy? Afterward, you can wash her hands and face and help her into her nightgown.”
“I can do that,” Lucy said. She was eager to escape.
Emma seemed happy to please Lucy. She giggled when Lucy made a game of washing her face. Lucy drew soap circles on Emma’s cheeks, nose, and chin.
I wonder if Mr. or Mrs. Snapes has ever tried playing with Emma, Lucy wondered.
Lucy helped Emma into bed, smoothing back her hair and tucking the quilt under her chin. “Good night, Emma,” she said.
Emma smiled as Lucy blew out the oil lamp that stood on the table.
In the dark Lucy changed into her nightgown and climbed into bed, holding Baby. She was so tired that she thought she would fall asleep as soon as she closed her eyes.
Instead, she lay awake. She looked at the patterns of moonlight that shone through the window and listened to Emma breathe. This was the same moonlight that had streamed through the small window in the room she had shared with her mother in New York City. Sometimes Mum had snuggled with her, pointing out shapes and designs in the spots of moonlight that had brightened the table and floor.
“Oh, Mum, I miss you. I miss you so much,” Lucy whispered. She hugged Baby and wished with all her heart that Mum hadn’t died, and that they were still together. The idea of living forever with unhappy Mrs. Snapes made her begin to cry. She couldn’t stop the tears, and she hid her head under the quilt so she wouldn’t awaken Emma.
Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Baby-o,” Emma said softly, and began to pat Lucy. “Baby-o, Baby-o.”
During the next few days Lucy worked hard on her household chores. She thought she must be pleasing Mrs. Snapes, because Mrs. Snapes did not complain. Every day Lucy helped Emma dress and undress. She sat beside Emma during meals and helped her eat.
“Hold the spoon like this, Emma,” Lucy said. “Then you won’t spill.”
Mrs. Snapes frowned. “That’s not the proper way to hold a spoon,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am, I know it’s not proper,” Lucy said politely. She was glad Mum had taught her good manners. “
But it’s easier for Emma.”
Mr. Snapes looked up from the soup he was spooning into his mouth. He watched Emma, who was happily eating her soup with her fist gripping her spoon. “It makes good sense to me,” he said.
Mrs. Snapes just shrugged and sighed.
Lucy spent hours of play time with Emma. She took Emma walking. She sat with her on the grass, weaving dandelion crowns. She told Emma stories and sang to her. Lucy let Emma hold her marble, and she told her about Henry. And sometimes—when Emma was paying attention—Lucy tried to teach her new words. Emma couldn’t always learn them. But even without the words, Lucy could understand what Emma wanted and needed.
On Sunday Lucy went to church with the Snapeses.
“You’ll meet some of the other children,” Mrs. Snapes told her as their wagon came near the church grounds. “Come September, you’ll be going to school with them.”
Lucy was excited. She couldn’t wait to make friends with the girls her age.
Mrs. Snapes had filled a big basket with fried chicken, slices of ham, fluffy biscuits, carrots, and jars of pickles. “After services there’ll be dinner on the ground,” she said.
“What’s dinner on the ground?” Lucy asked.
“We all spread out cloths and sit down on the ground to eat,” Mrs. Snapes answered. “There’ll be fiddlers and we’ll sing hymns. It’s a time for neighbors to get together. We do this once a month, in good weather.”
As Lucy followed the Snapeses into church, Emma clung tightly to her hand. Lucy could hear whispers and even a few giggles. Some of the children stared at her.
It’s because I’m new here, Lucy told herself.
After the services, some of the children clustered around Lucy and Emma.
“You’re the new orphan,” a girl with long blond hair said.
Lucy tried to smile. “I’m Lucy. Lucy Griggs.”
A little boy tugged at the blond girl’s skirt. “What’s an orphan?” he asked.
“An orphan is somebody who has no mother or father,” the girl answered.
The boy looked puzzled. “How could you not have a mother or father?”
A bigger boy grinned at Lucy. “Orphans aren’t like the rest of us. Orphans are found under rocks.”
One of the other girls giggled. “So was Emma,” she said. “They make a fine pair.”
Everyone laughed. Lucy could tell that Emma didn’t understand what they said or why they were laughing, but Emma laughed with them anyway. And this made the other children laugh even harder.
Lucy’s face burned with anger and embarrassment. It was bad enough that her wish hadn’t come true. Now it seemed as though she wouldn’t have a single friend. She took Emma’s hand and began to walk away. “Come on, Emma,” she said.
They found Mrs. Snapes dishing up heaping plates of food, all the while keeping an eye on what her neighbors had brought. “You weren’t very pleasant with the other children,” she said to Lucy. “Look at them all laughing and playing. Why didn’t you join in?”
Before Lucy could explain, Mr. Snapes said, “Lucy’s shy, Mabel. Give her time. She’ll make friends.”
Even though she wasn’t hungry, Lucy bit into a chicken leg. It tasted like straw. There was no way she could tell the Snapeses what the children had said. The part about Emma would only hurt the Snapeses. It was her problem, and she’d have to handle it herself.
On the following Sunday, Mrs. Snapes announced, “After church we’ll be having dinner at the home of some relations.” To Lucy’s surprise, after the services she found out that the blond girls and the tall boy who had taunted her and Emma were Emma’s cousins.
Mrs. Snapes made the introductions. “This here is Lucy,” she said. “And these are my sister Grace Porter’s children—Janetta, Abigail, and Tom.”
“Pleased to meet you,” they all said politely. Abigail even bobbed up and down in a curtsy.
Don’t they remember last Sunday? Lucy wondered.
“Seems like the cat’s got Lucy’s tongue,” Mrs. Snapes prompted.
Lucy quickly said, “How do you do?”
Mrs. Porter was a small good-natured woman. She smiled and said, “We’re glad to have you here, Lucy.” She turned to the others. “Children, go outside and play. You won’t have any fun inside, under the grown-ups’ feet.”
Lucy, with Emma in hand, followed the Porter children to a shady area under an oak tree.
Emma plopped down on the grass. Tom said, “Emma, do you want little, sizzly fried bugs for dinner?”
Emma smiled and nodded, and Tom’s sisters giggled.
“Or how about a lizard? A roasted and stuffed lizard? Isn’t that what you usually eat?”
Janetta and Abigail laughed. Emma laughed with them.
“Stop it,” Lucy said.
Tom looked at Lucy with surprise. “Stop what?”
“Stop making fun of Emma,” Lucy said.
“Why?” Abigail asked. “She doesn’t know we’re making fun of her.”
“But you do, and that’s just plain mean.”
“It’s only teasing. We always do it,” Abigail insisted. She looked at her brother and giggled. “Tom can be so funny!”
“If it’s so funny, do you tease Emma in front of your parents and hers so they can laugh, too?” Lucy asked.
For a moment there was silence. Then Janetta asked Lucy, “Are you going to be an old spoilsport? Are you going to tattle?”
“I don’t tattle,” Lucy said. “But one of my jobs is to take care of Emma. I want you to stop making fun of her.”
Tom, Janetta, and Abigail looked at one another. Then Abigail’s pout turned into a smile. “Oh, let’s stop talking about Emma,” Abigail said. “We brought you here to show you our secret treasure hole, Lucy.”
Abigail reached into a hole in the trunk of the tree and pulled out a box. Opening it, she held up a sleek black feather.
“A crow’s feather?” Lucy asked.
Janetta shook her head and whispered, “A magic feather. Bad magic. All we need is to find the spell.”
“Where’s the spell?”
Janetta sighed. “We don’t know.”
“We’ll know it when we see it,” Tom said.
“But why do you want to do bad magic?” Lucy asked.
“Just because,” said Abigail. “Don’t ask so many questions.”
“All right,” Lucy said. She was interested in what else lay in the box.
There was a three-inch rattle, taken from a dead rattlesnake; a small gold ring; a dead and dried frog; and five agate marbles—lucky marbles, Tom said.
“Now we’ve shown you our treasures,” Abigail said. “That means we’re friends.”
“Friends? Really?” Lucy asked.
“Wait,” Tom said. “We haven’t shown Lucy our secret handshake.”
He held out his right hand, thumb up, and he and Abigail slapped hands and shook. Then they showed Lucy how to do the same.
“That does it,” Tom said. “Now we’re friends, and we stick together, no matter what.”
Lucy smiled. She was glad to have friends. And best of all, she got to share their secret.
Emma looked up and babbled something. Lucy tried to catch a word she could understand, but she couldn’t.
“Emma, when you grow up, why don’t you join a group of traveling actors?” Tom said. He bowed as if he were on a stage. Then he began to babble, making fun of Emma.
Abigail and Janetta both burst out laughing.
Then Emma joined in, laughing loudly.
Abigail threw a glance at Lucy.
Lucy didn’t know what to do. Emma was laughing. And after all, these were her new friends. All the laughing made Lucy want to laugh, too. Before she knew it, she was giggling. Abigail squeezed her hand in delight.
Janetta put an arm around Lucy’s shoulder. “Friends,” Janetta whispered in Lucy’s ear.
Tom, Janetta, and Abigail were right, Lucy told herself. Emma was laughing. The teasing didn’t hurt h
er.
But late that evening, as the Snapeses rode home, Lucy thought about what she had done. In the back of the wagon, Emma snuggled against Lucy. Lucy thought she heard Emma say, “Love you.”
Lucy hugged Emma. She felt sick as she remembered laughing at her. Emma had trusted her, and she had betrayed her—all for the sake of having friends.
But Emma didn’t know she was being made fun of, so she wasn’t hurt, Lucy told herself. I didn’t really do anything wrong … did I?
Two days later Abigail and Janetta arrived with their mother for a visit at the Snapeses’ farm. Lucy wasn’t happy to see them. No matter what the girls had told her, Lucy knew they weren’t her real friends.
Mrs. Porter’s arms were filled with printed fabric. She was going to sew kitchen curtains. “You’re kind to help me hem these, Mabel,” Mrs. Porter said.
“The girls can help, too,” Mrs. Snapes said. “With five of us at work, we’ll be done in no time.”
Mrs. Porter smiled at her daughters. “Let’s just you and me hem them, Mabel,” she said. “The girls do so hate to sew. We’ll send them all outside to play.”
Mrs. Porter shooed Lucy, Emma, Janetta, and Abigail out the back door. Lucy could tell that Mrs. Snapes didn’t like the idea.
Lucy didn’t like the idea, either. She was still ashamed of laughing while Tom made fun of Emma. Thankfully, Tom hadn’t come, so maybe Abigail and Janetta would leave Emma alone.
They were no sooner away from the house than Abigail began to make fun of Emma. “Big old Emma’s still got a dolly.”
She and Janetta laughed, but Emma held up Baby and spoke back to them. Lucy could pick out the words Baby and doll.
“She’s telling you that the doll is named Baby,” Lucy said.
Janetta and Abigail exploded in laughter. “Emma can’t talk!” Janetta said.
“And don’t tell us that you can understand her!” Abigail screeched.
Lucy took a deep breath. “Don’t tease her,” she said.
“Why not?” Abigail answered. “Emma doesn’t know what we’re talking about. It’s so funny when she laughs with us.”
“It isn’t right,” Lucy insisted.
“There you go being a spoilsport again,” Janetta said. “Come on. Let’s play a game.”
Lucy’s Wish Page 4