by Julie Bowe
“Did you see that quilt at the museum?” Jolene asks, breathless from running. “The one with all the names sewn on it?”
Meeka nods, untangling her hair from her tiara. “An old-fashioned friendship quilt, just like Mrs. Eddy told us about.”
“I’m just glad to finally be out of there,” Brooke says, throwing back her arms and knocking my tagboard bonnet off my head. It dangles down my back. Brooke’s crown glitters in the sun. “I need my space.”
“Looks like you need mine too,” I mumble, putting my bonnet back on my head.
“Whoa, big lake,” Randi says as we step onto the rocky beach of Lake Pepin. A truck with a boat trailer rumbles past us. People laugh and shout from the docks that stretch like giant fingers into the choppy water.
Jenna huffs. “Lake Superior is way bigger. My family goes there every summer.”
“Lake Superior is a bathtub compared to the ocean,” Brooke sasses back. “Has your family been to the ocean, Jenna?” She does quote marks with her fingers when she says the word family. Then she smiles sweetly. “My family has. Tons of times.”
Jenna gives Brooke a scowl and turns away.
We scramble around on the beach for a while. Rock skipping. Stick throwing. Bug poking. I think about Laura and Mary coming here when they were little. And how they threw rocks into Lake Pepin just like we are. I bet they thought it looked big too.
“How about a picture, girls?” Mom asks, walking up to us with her camera.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Brooke says, draping her arms around Stacey’s neck like they’re posing for the cover of a magazine.
Mom clicks a few shots. Stacey and Brooke. Meeka and Jolene. Me and Jenna. Randi and Rusty. Then she gets us all huddled together.
“Girls only,” Brooke says, shoving Rusty away.
Rusty stumbles back. “But Brookey,” he says, all pouty. “You’re breaking my heart!”
“I’ll break your nose if you don’t go away,” Brooke says, giving Rusty another shove.
“Surprise, surprise,” I hear Jenna mumble.
We smile at the camera.
The boys make faces behind us.
“Good one,” Mom says, looking up. “You girls make such a cute group of friends.”
We fidget and glance at each other, remembering that we’re not supposed to be friends. Cute or otherwise. We’re supposed to be fighting.
Stacey, Brooke, Meeka, and Jolene wander off in one direction.
Me, Jenna, and Randi wander off in the other.
“Don’t go too far!” Mom calls to us. “The bus will be here any minute. Then we’ll go see the Little House.”
I look across the lake again. Motor boats purr by. Buildings poke up through the trees along the opposite shore. It must look a lot different now than it did when Laura and Mary were here more than a hundred years ago.
I pick up a rock and think about what Laura wrote in that letter the museum lady read. How so many things change over the years, but the real things stay the same.
“Rocks don’t change much,” I say to myself. “Even after a hundred years. Even after a hundred more years.”
I look around at the other girls.
“And I bet running down a hill with your friends felt just as good back then as it does today. And fighting with them felt just as bad.”
“C’mon, Ida!” Jenna calls to me. “The bus is here.”
“I’ll be right there,” I call back.
I hunt along the shore, looking for the oldest rock I can find. One that will stay the same forever.
The school bus rumbles into the parking lot, but I keep hunting.
“Hurry, Ida, or we’ll lose our seat!” Jenna shouts.
“Coming!”
I snatch up a rock that looks older than all the rest.
Then I grab a few more and stuff them into my pockets as I run to the bus.
Seven rocks altogether.
Chapter 9
“Hysterical marker?” Brooke reads as we drive past a sign along the road that leads to the Little House in the Big Woods. “I don’t see anything funny about trees and fields and tractors.”
“Historical marker,” Jenna corrects her, leaning over the back of Brooke and Stacey’s seat. “As in history? Ever heard of it?”
“Oh,” Brooke says, slouching. “Historical. As in boring.”
“Boredom must be popular,” Tom replies, looking up from a pamphlet he got at the museum. “It says here hundreds of people visit the Little House in the Big Woods every year.”
“Hundreds of bored people,” Brooke mumbles.
“Look!” Stacey says, pointing out her window. “There it is! Laura’s cabin!”
“Where?” Brooke says, gawking. “Ohmygosh! Look, Jenna. It’s almost as tiny as your tree—”
“House,” Jenna cuts in. She glares at Brooke, then turns to Stacey. “It’s a little house, Stacey. Not a cabin.”
“Same difference,” Tom says, tucking the pamphlet into his pocket.
“Oops,” Brooke says, glancing away from Jenna. “That’s what I meant. It’s as dinky as Jenna’s . . . house. Don’t ask me how they’re going to fit another kid in there.”
Jenna’s jaw goes tight. She looks past Brooke at Tom. “Tom,” she says loudly, “do me a favor and tell Brooke that we’ll have plenty of room for the baby now that she’s not hanging around all the time.”
Tom does a puzzled frown. “I’m sure she heard you loud and clear,” he says to Jenna.
Jenna gives Tom a squint. “Thanks for being so helpful.”
“I’m very helpful,” Tom replies. “Just not useable.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jenna asks.
“It means he’s not your little messenger boy.” Brooke whips a look at Jenna. “If you have something to say to me, then say it yourself. Don’t make your boyfriend do your dirty work.”
Jenna’s eyes go wide. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Brooke laughs. “Your crush then. Whatever. You do still like him, don’t you? Ever since third grade?”
Jenna sits back, her eyes bright and her cheeks burning.
I look at Tom. He turns away quickly. His ears are as red as Jenna’s face.
The bus jerks to a stop near the little log house and everyone starts scrambling off. There are only a few trees around it, but they’re tall and old and I wonder if maybe they’re left over from the Big Woods. Maybe Laura and Mary even planted the seeds they grew from, just like Rachel and her sandbox seeds.
My mom and the other chaperones carry the picnic stuff to a shelter.
Mr. Crow leads the rest of us into the quiet little house. We’re the only ones there.
The main room has a window, a fireplace, a table, and that’s all. Still, we’re squished because it’s so small. Two tinier rooms are off to one side. Upstairs there’s a loft where Mr. Crow says Laura’s family would have stored their food for the winter.
“Imagine what it would be like to live in this small space with your whole family,” Mr. Crow says.
“Nuts,” Randi replies.
“Murder,” Rusty chimes in.
“Look!” Joey shouts, pointing to the cobwebcovered window. An enormous spider is crawling across the four panes of glass. Brown and hairy. Like the ones you see on nature shows.
“Ta-ranch-u-la!”Joey says, wiggling his fingers.
“Common barn spider,” Tom puts in. “Big, but harmless to humans.”
A hand clamps around my wrist. Strawberry-scented breath blows in my face. “Somebody kill it!” Brooke cries.
“Anything for you, Brookey,” Rusty says, picking up a stick that’s lying near the fireplace. He tiptoes toward the window. “Herrrre . . . spidey!” he calls.
“Rusty.” Mr. Crow frowns from across the tiny room. “Drop the stick. Step away from the spider. Now.”
“Spiders are good luck,” Meeka says. “Remember? That’s what Mrs. Eddy said when she showed us that quilt with a spider sewn on it. Yo
u’d be crazy to kill it.”
Jenna huffs. “I’ve killed hundreds.”
“Yeah, but that sucker’s huge,” Randi says, stepping closer to Rusty. “You’d be doomed.”
“Rusty,” Mr. Crow says again. “The stick. Drop it.”
Rusty sighs. He gives the windowsill a sharp tap, then flicks the stick away.
The spider scurries onto the wall.
Close to me.
Closer to Brooke.
Four fingernails cut a crooked path across my wrist. Brooke screams and dives. She clings to Jenna’s back like a crazy cat.
“Get off!” Jenna shouts, squirming.
Brooke hangs on. “Spiders lay eggs, you know!” she wails. “In your hair!”
The spider moves.
Brooke howls.
Jenna slips off a shoe.
She lunges toward the wall with Brooke on her back.
Whack!
The spider falls to the floor and scurries to a shadowy corner.
“Jenna!” Mr. Crow shouts. “I said to leave that spider alone!”
“I had to do something,” Jenna says, slipping her shoe back on. “Brooke was freaking.”
“Don’t blame me,” Brooke says, straightening her tiara and smoothing her hair. “I didn’t force you to commit murder.”
“Attempted murder,” Tom says.
“It looks mad.” Jolene steps closer to the spider. “See? Its hair is standing on end.”
“Bad luck,” Meeka says, shaking her head.
“For Jenna,” Brooke puts in.
“Outside,” Mr. Crow says. “Everyone. Game time.” He holds open the door and shoos us into the sunshine.
“Been nice knowin’ ya,” Rusty says, giving Jenna’s shoulder a pat.
Jenna jerks away. “I didn’t kill it.”
“You tried,” Rusty says. “I saw the gleam in your eye.”
“Yeah, work on your aim, Spidergirl,” Quinn adds.
Rusty snorts. “Your aim, Spidergirl, your aim!”
They gallop away, laughing.
“It’s good you missed,” Tom says, coming up behind us.
“Go away, Tom,” Jenna grumbles. “I don’t need one of your brainy lectures right now.”
“No lecture,” Tom says. “It’s just that spiders are useful. They get rid of unwanted pests.”
Jenna squints at him. “Right now you’re the only pest I see.”
Tom’s face falls.
Jenna tugs me away.
“He was just trying to be nice,” I say to her, glancing back at Tom. “Besides, I thought you liked him.”
“I do like him,” Jenna says. “But I don’t want everyone to know it. And I was trying to be nice. But all she did was accuse me of attempted murder.”
“Who? Brooke?”
“Who else?” Jenna says. “Some former best friend.”
We catch up with the others in an open area near the picnic shelter. Mr. Crow teaches us some pioneer games. Drop the handkerchief. Shadow tag. Blind man’s bluff. By the time the chaperones have lunch ready, my bonnet looks like it’s been through a stampede. But I don’t mind.
Jenna waves me to a picnic table after I get my buffalo burger. I sit next to her and what’s left of her egg salad sandwich. Everyone fills in around us, eating and talking about the fun day we’ve had.
And actually, parts of it have been.
Quinn and Rusty are huddled across the table, whispering and giggling. I try to ignore them even though I wonder what they’re talking about. I fiddle with the yarn around my neck and nibble at my burger. Maybe Quinn is telling Rusty what he said to me this morning. About looking like a tulip. About not stinking.
I hope he isn’t, because there are some things you don’t want to share around.
Quinn gives Rusty a jab. “Go on,” he whispers. “Do it.”
“Okay, okay,” Rusty whispers back, glancing at Jenna. He holds his buffalo burger out to her. “Hey, Spidergirl,” he says. “Dare you to take a bite!”
Jenna munches a carrot stick, studying the burger. She takes a sip from her juice pouch and squints at Rusty. “What will you do if I do?” she asks.
Everyone leans in, waiting for Rusty’s answer.
Rusty takes time to think things through. Ketchup drips from his burger like fake blood. “If you take a bite,” he finally says, “I’ll wear your bonnet.”
We gasp.
And giggle.
And shift back to Jenna.
“Will she do it?” someone whispers.
“No way,” someone else whispers back. “She doesn’t even eat regular meat. She’ll never go for buffalo.”
“Cluck, cluck, cluck!” Quinn does nose pecks at Jenna and flaps his arms like wings.
My eyes go wide. There’s nothing Jenna hates more than being called a chicken.
Jenna’s eyes narrow under her red brim.
Then she plucks the burger out of Rusty’s hand.
And takes an enormous bite.
We gasp again.
“Whoa!” Randi says. “She did it!”
“Huh?” Rusty blinks. Ketchup clings to his empty hand.
Jenna smirks around the buffalo in her mouth. “Huh,” she replies. Then she leans over her waxed paper and spits the whole thing out.
Triple gasp.
Jenna looks at Rusty and licks the corner of her mouth. “You lose,” she says, untying her bonnet.
“But you didn’t eat it!” Rusty cries.
“You didn’t dare me to eat it,” Jenna replies. “You dared me to take a bite. Which I did.” She jabs her bonnet at Rusty. “Pay up.”
“But that . . . but that . . . but that’s not fair!” Rusty’s eyes dart around, looking for the other guys to back him up.
“Actually, it is fair,” Tom says. “She did exactly what you dared her to do.”
“She did.” Even Brooke agrees.
Everyone nods.
“Thank you, Tom,” Jenna says. She gives him a smile.
Tom smiles back.
Rusty slumps.
Quinn snatches the bonnet from Jenna and plunks it on Rusty’s head.
“Hey there, little lady,” Zane says all twangy to Rusty. “You look mighty pur-dee!”
We all laugh like a tuba band.
Mr. Crow and the chaperones look up.
They see Rusty and start laughing too.
I catch Stacey’s eye.
She lets a smile slip.
A real smile.
Brooke flings a skinny arm around Stacey’s neck and reels her in before I have a chance to smile back.
Then she snags Meeka and Jolene.
The four of them flit away.
Chapter 10
Later that night, I help with the supper dishes and take a bath and give my Lake Pepin rocks a shampoo. I line them up on the windowsill in my bedroom to dry. “Seven rocks,” I say to George. He’s watching from my bed. “Just like us girls.”
Then I do some rearranging.
Three rocks here.
Four rocks there.
I look at George. “Do you think we’ll ever be seven again?”
George stares at me with his black button eyes. Then he glances at one of the rocks.
I pick it up and set it between the others. “Me,” I say. “I’m the rock in the middle. The one who has to get the other rocks to roll back in.”
My stomach squirms a little. Like it did this afternoon when we all got on the bus to head back to school after our class trip. Brooke beat me and Jenna to the best seat. Randi squished in next to her because she loves to win, even if it means having to sit with Brooke.
Without even thinking, I sat in Brooke’s old spot, next to Stacey. That left Jenna with Randi’s old spot, next to Rusty. But as soon as Rusty saw Jenna coming, he reached across the aisle and yanked Quinn in.
Jenna had two choices. Sit in Quinn’s old spot, next to Tom. Or sit with the chaperones.
Jenna chose Tom.
Brooke made smoochie sounds a
t them all the way back to school.
I kept waiting for Jenna to shoot dagger eyes at her.
But she didn’t.
She shot them at me instead.
The more she shot, the more I glanced at Stacey. I was still mad at her for ignoring me all week and for laughing at me this morning. But I wondered if she meant to give me that real smile in the picnic shelter, to make up for the fake smile she had given me earlier. And did she let Brooke and Randi beat her to the best seat? Was she hoping I’d sit with her?
I tried talking a little, to test if she wanted to talk back.
But all she said was “Mmm-hmm” and “Mmmmmm.” You can’t have a conversation without vowels, so I stopped trying.
Jenna stormed off the bus when we got to school. She didn’t say a word to me. She didn’t even come home with us after school. She told my mom she had a stomachache from the buffalo burger she bit. So we dropped her off at home.
But I don’t think a buffalo made her stomach hurt.
I think I did.
Because I ditched her to sit with Stacey.
At least that’s how it must have looked to Jenna. And instead of trying to explain that I hadn’t ditched her, I just pretended that I didn’t know she was mad.
I rub my stomach. And look out my window. I can’t see Jenna’s house from here, but I know it’s there, just a few blocks away.
And I know she’s there too. Or at least I think she is.
Maybe looking out her window.
Maybe feeling squirmy about today too.
“You can’t unditch someone,” I say to George. “All you can do is say you’re sorry and hope they yank you back in.”
The telephone rings and a moment later I hear my mom all light and chatty downstairs.
I look at the clock on my desk.
7:46 p.m.
I’m allowed to call friends until 8:00.
My stomach does triple-flips as I hunt around for our cordless phone and take it back to my room. When Mom is done talking on the other phone, I sit on my bed and punch in Jenna’s number.