The Year of the Book
Page 5
“Neither does my mom.” Suddenly there’s something I have to know. “Why do you invite Allison over to your house?”
“Each time she comes, I hope she’ll be nice.” Laura wipes her face with her sleeve. “I know you don’t like her, but sometimes she’s nice.”
“Not most of the time.”
“Nobody’s nice all the time,” Laura says.
I reach for the next branch and pull myself around. From there, I can see the whole neighborhood all the way to our school. I know what Laura means. Even Ms. Simmons gets irritated sometimes.
David and Andrew come out even though they’re supposed to still be in their rooms. They are making some kind of tennis ball shooter with two big springs on the sides that’s pretty neat. I think maybe I can launch one of my airplanes from it when it’s done.
Laura is telling me that her mom is looking for another job because she lost the first one.
“You mean the typing one?” I ask.
Laura nods. “She had this terrible boss.”
Then David says, “Do you guys want to help?” He lets us hammer in some of the nails for the crossbow.
When Mom comes to get me, Laura’s mother says she thinks we had a nice time.
“Can you come back tomorrow?” Laura asks.
“I don’t think so,” I say quickly.
She looks sad. Then her face lights up. “If David and Andrew finish the tennis ball thing, I’ll call you.”
Nine
Spending the Night
It’s after ten o’clock and I’m in bed reading A Wrinkle in Time. The librarian at school gave it to me. I don’t usually like science fiction books bui this one is different. Meg reminds me of me and Charles Wallace is a lot like Ken. The phone rings, and I hear Mom say, “Okay, yes, I understand. Yes, of course, no problem.” When she hangs up, she says, “Laura is coming over.”
But it’s late and I have my pajamas on. “Right now?”
“Their family is having problems,” Mom says.
“What problems?”
“I don’t know the details, but Laura will stay with us for a few days.”
“What about her brothers?”
“They’re going to one of David’s friends, but Laura doesn’t want to go there.”
My stomach drops. Even a few hours seems like a long time when someone comes to our house. What will I do with Laura for a few days? This is winter break. I want to make the airplanes in the book with Ken and read all the novels I took out of the library. On Christmas day, we’ll open our presents in the morning, and then we’ll have dinner with Auntie Linda and some of the other families from Chinese school.
“How many days is Laura staying?” I ask.
“As long as they need us,” Mom says.
“What if she’s still here on Christmas?”
“I don’t think she’ll be here so long. But if she is, she’ll come with us to Auntie Linda’s.”
I sit up in bed and my book falls to the floor. “I don’t see why she doesn’t call Allison,” I say. “She invited Allison to go to Michigan with them over Thanksgiving.”
“Anna, that is not our business,” Mom says. “Her mother asked us a favor. We will try to help.”
Laura is carrying a small black bag and her eyes are all red. She stands in the doorway of my room.
“We have two fold-up mattresses,” I say. “Do you want the red one or the blue one?”
“Blue,” Laura says, looking at the sleeve of her blue striped pajamas.
I go into Ken’s room, get the mattress out from underneath his bed, drag it into my room, and open it up on the floor.
“Where’s your brother?” Laura asks.
“Spending the night at his friend’s house. As usual.”
Laura pushes the mattress over closer to my bed. I open the linen closet and take out a sheet, purple with blue dots. “That’s pretty,” she says, helping me spread it on top of the mattress. I find a pillow and a pillowcase and a blanket. When the bed is ready, Laura lies down and pulls the covers up to her chin.
I go back to bed and open A Wrinkle in Time but my eyes keep moving over the same words without knowing what they are saying. I hear the front door close so I know Laura’s mother has left. Then Mom and Dad are in the kitchen, putting the dishes away. I could ask Laura about her parents, but maybe she doesn’t want to talk about it. Her eyes are closed but I don’t think she is asleep.
Tomorrow is Saturday. There is no Chinese school because of winter break. My stomach drops. Saturday is Mom’s cleaning day. Ken will still be at Michael’s. Laura and I can stay home by ourselves. But what will we do all day long?
Laura is lying perfectly still. Then I see that the pillowcase has darker spots where her tears have landed.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper.
“My dad’s not supposed to come over to our house anymore.” She swallows. “But he comes anyway.”
“And then what?”
“My mom won’t let him in.” She is crying and talking at the same time. “So he just waits there.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. A long time.”
A car goes down the street and the headlights shine on the wall. Laura sits up. “Do your mom and dad fight?” she asks.
“They argued a lot when my mom was learning how to drive.”
“I hope my dad didn’t see me come over here,” Laura says. She looks around. “You have a ton of books.” “They’re mostly Christmas presents,” I say. “Do you want to read?”
She shakes her head.
“Do you want me to read you A Wrinkle in Time?” She lies back down. “Sure.”
I start at the beginning or else Laura won’t understand what’s going on. She’s really quiet while I read. Later Mom comes up, and then Dad. They don’t tell me to turn off my light like they usually do. I read through chapter six. Finally when I think Laura is asleep, I look over at the mattress. With her eyes closed, her face looks soft.
I hear the doorbell ring. Who would be coming to our house this late? Laura must be a deep sleeper because she doesn’t move. I hear Dad go to the front door and turn on the porch light. I tiptoe to the top of the stairs just as Dad opens the door.
“I am Mr. Morgan,” a man’s voice says.
I hold my breath. Dad does not invite him in. “Can I help you?” he asks.
“I’ve come to get my daughter,” he says.
“I’m sorry. You must have come to the wrong house,” Dad says.
The man stands there for a minute. “I’m sorry,” he says.
Dad closes the door. I hear the man’s footsteps on our front steps, and when I look out the window, he is getting into his car.
My heart is beating so hard I can feel it in my throat. Then I run down the stairs into the living room. Mom and Dad are sitting next to each other on the sofa and I climb onto Mom’s lap like a baby. Dad rubs my back with his warm hands.
“The family is having trouble,” Mom says.
“Maybe he just missed his daughter,” Dad says.
“Then why did you tell him he had the wrong house?”
Dad is quiet for a minute. “I wasn’t really sure what to do. Mom told me that Laura’s mother asked us to take care of her, so that is what we should do.”
“Poor Laura,” Mom says. “Family trouble is not easy.” Mom puts my hair behind my ears like she used to when I was little. “You’re tired, Anna,” she says. “Time to sleep.”
***
Laura’s blond hair is spread all over the pillow. When I tiptoe past her mattress, she moves, but she doesn’t wake up.
I turn onto my side and stare at the cracks in the paint on the wall. In Chinese class, the cracks are big like rivers, but here they are thin like a spider web or a wrinkle in time. One crack goes into the next into the next until they fade into the wall. Maybe tomorrow Laura and I can play that tangrams shapes game. We can cut the shapes out of cardboard and try to make pictures out of them like I did
with Camille. That would be something Laura would like to do.
Chapter Ten
Saturday
We have Corn Pops for breakfast.
“I thought you guys had those small cereal boxes,” Laura says.
“Only once in a while.”
“Do you eat with chopsticks?”
“You can’t eat cereal with chopsticks,” I say.
Laura pours herself a big bowl and covers it with milk. Mom always tells us not to take more than we can eat, but when Laura leaves half of the cereal and milk in her bowl, Mom doesn’t say anything.
After breakfast, Mom says, “You two can stay home while I go clean the apartments.” I wish she wouldn’t have said that about cleaning, but it’s too late now. She goes down to the basement to get her cleaning supplies.
“I like to clean,” Laura says. “Can we go?”
“My mom does the cleaning.”
“You said she cleans in one of those high-rises, right?” I nod.
“I’ve never been up there.” Laura looks down. “Where’s your dad?”
“At work.”
“I don’t want to stay here alone,” she says quickly.
“I thought you and Allison stay alone all the time.”
Laura’s eyes get watery. “Not anymore.”
Mom comes up with her bucket full of supplies. “We want to go with you,” I say.
She looks surprised. “Mr. Shepherd will be happy. Now hurry so we don’t miss the bus.”
The wind is strong and snow flurries are blowing around. We zip our jackets all the way up. Laura’s has a hood but it won’t stay on so Mom ties her scarf around Laura’s head. I pull my hat down almost to my eyes. The bus comes as soon as we get to the stop.
“I’ve only ridden the bus once before,” Laura says.
“In your whole life?”
“Yup. My mom drives us everywhere.”
We introduce Laura to Mrs. Lukens. She gives us each two thin mints.
Laura smiles as the elevator goes up. “I love that feeling in my stomach,” she says. “Just like a roller coaster.”
When the door opens, Mr. Shepherd is waiting for us. “Now, who’s this?” he asks when he sees Laura.
“Laura Morgan,” I say.
He holds out his hand. Laura looks like she’s afraid to shake hands with a man in a wheelchair, but finally she does.
“I’ve set some things aside for you,” he says, wheeling himself ahead of us into the apartment. In the middle of the living room is a big cardboard box. “Take a look.”
The box is full of scraps of fabric. “Wow,” Laura says, picking up a piece of blue silk and waving it around. “I bet my mom would really like this.”
“It’s yours for the taking,” Mr. Shepherd says.
“Where did you get all this material?” I ask.
“Mrs. Shepherd used to sew up a storm,” he says.
He watches us rummage through the box. Then he wheels himself over to the window and reads the newspaper in the sunshine.
Laura and I sort the fabrics into the ones we like a lot, the ones we sort of like, and the ones we don’t like at all.
Mr. Shepherd moves himself into the bedroom. “Where’s he going?” Laura whispers.
“He usually takes a nap about now.”
We keep on sorting and talking. “I wish I could sew,” Laura says.
“It’s not that hard.”
“Can you teach me sometime?”
“Yup,” I say, picking up a piece of black velvet.
“I’m going to ask my mom if we can get a sewing machine for Christmas,” she says. “But I bet she’ll say no.” Laura puts a piece of orange fabric around her head like a headband. “Now that they’re splitting up, there’s not that much money.” She sees Mom scrubbing the kitchen floor. “Do you think your mom gets paid a lot?”
“I don’t know.”
The afternoon goes by so fast, we can hardly believe it when Mom says she’ll run down and help Mrs. Watson for a few minutes, and then it will be time to go home.
“This is fun,” Laura says. “Can I come with you next Saturday?”
“If you want to,” I say.
“It’s peaceful with your family,” she says.
“I fight with Ken sometimes,” I say.
Suddenly we hear a loud bang like something is falling. Laura looks at me. “What was that?”
“Mr. Shepherd?” I call.
“No problem,” he says. “I’m just a little clumsy.”
I open the bedroom door, and Mr. Shepherd is sitting on the edge of the bed. “I lost my balance there for a minute,” he says, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. He has a small cut above his eye where he fell against the headboard.
Laura puts her hand to her mouth. “Are you okay?” “A little cut never did much harm.”
“We better go get your mom,” Laura says.
Mr. Shepherd waves his hand. “No need to bother Mary. She tells me to stay put, but do I listen?” He shakes his head. “Anna, wet this handkerchief for me, will you, please?”
I run it under cold water, wring it out, and give it back to Mr. Shepherd.
“A little coldness can go a long way,” he says. “Now, let me tell you what I was after. You see that basket there on the floor?” He looks at Laura. “Get that for me, will you, please, and set it up here on the bed.”
Laura gets the basket and Mr. Shepherd opens the top. “Needles, pins, thread, scissors. You girls take whatever it is you need. Take the whole basket. It’s not doing much good here gathering dust.”
While Mr. Shepherd takes a nap, Laura and I sit on the living room floor with the basket between us. There are lots of spools of thread of all different colors, a pin cushion full of needles, a box of snaps, a roll of Velcro, several zippers.
“He bumped his head getting this sewing basket for us,” Laura says.
I nod. “Mr. Shepherd hates to ask for help.”
“I’m like that, too,” Laura says. She picks up the blue fabric. “I think my mom will really like a scarf out of this.” She winds it around her wrist. “It’s so soft and silky.”
Mom comes back in. “Time to go home now,” she says, gathering her cleaning supplies.
Laura is looking out the big window at the river. “Mr. Shepherd is really nice,” she says.
Mom tiptoes over to the bedroom and opens the door. “Looks like he cut himself.”
“He knocked it on the headboard,” I say.
Mom shakes her head. “I told him to ask when he needs something.”
“He was getting the sewing basket,” I say. “For us.”
It’s already dark as we walk to the bus stop. Laura takes a deep breath. “Smells like snow,” she says.
I sniff. The air is damp.
“You want to go sledding tomorrow?” Laura asks.
I want to make more airplanes with Ken and I want to read my new book. Anyway, it might not snow. But it has been fun having Laura around.
“Do you?” she asks again.
“If it snows,” I say, stepping onto the bus.
“It will,” Laura says. “I can tell.” She scoots in next to me on the seat. “I can’t wait to give my mom the silk fabric.”
Eleven
Christmas
Laura’s mom comes early on Sunday. “Thank you very much,” she says to Mom. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate your help.”
“Laura can come anytime,” Mom says.
Laura holds on to her mother’s arm. “Can we get a sewing machine?”
“We’ll see,” her mother tells her.
“Anna’s going to teach me how to sew,” Laura says. Then she feels around in her pocket. “I lost it,” she says to me.
“What?”
“The silk,” she whispers into my ear. “Remember?” We run upstairs, but it’s not there. Laura looks really upset. “If I find it, I’ll call you,” I say.
I search the house, but the blue silk isn’t anywhere. M
aybe it fell out of Laura’s pocket when we got off the bus.
I finish A Wrinkle in Time and start The Prince and the Pauper about two boys who switch places. I wonder what it would be like to switch places with Laura. What would it be like to have your parents split up? And what would Laura do if she were me? I don’t think she’d like Chinese school. She wouldn’t understand a thing. And it would be strange for her to be with all Chinese kids. But then, she always seems so interested in Chinese stuff.
When Ken gets home, we make three more airplanes, so that brings our fleet to nine. If we throw them gently with the nose tipped down a little, they loop. When Dad comes, we have a contest to see whose can loop the best. We’re so busy with our airplanes that we almost forget tomorrow is Christmas.
“Can I spend the night in your room?” Ken asks.
“What for?”
“So you won’t wake up before me and open your presents.”
“You know we have to wait for Mom and Dad anyway,” I say.
“The blue mattress is already in your room,” he says, running to get his pillow.
I can’t believe I got the whole set: A Wrinkle in Time, A Wind in the Door, A Swiftly Tilting Planet, and Still Waters. Mom and Dad always know exactly which books are my favorites. I want to start reading the second one right away, but Ken is hopping around like a jumping bean. “Don’t read now, Anna. Please.” He is grabbing my arm. “First let’s go downstairs.”
Mom and Dad lead us to the basement, where there are two brand-new silver scooters with bows on the handlebars. We race around the furnace until we’re totally dizzy. Ken tries all kinds of fancy tricks like riding on one wheel. Then he wants to ride outside but it’s too cold.
Dad and I start folding wontons to take to Auntie Linda’s when the phone rings. I think it’s going to be Laura because it finally snowed and I know she wanted to go sledding, but it’s Camille. She says her mom told her I was good at writing, and she wonders if I can help her with a biography report that she has to turn in after break.