The Year of the Book

by Andrea Cheng

  How to Fold a Won Ton

  “About who?” I ask.

  “George Washington Carver,” she answers.

  “Sure. Come on over.”

  Camille has perfect handwriting, but her report is too short and she has lots of words spelled wrong, like she wrote wood instead of would and are instead of our. We look through the biography she brought, and it talks about all the different things you can make out of peanuts. “You could write about how to make oil and soap,” I say.

  It takes Camille a long time to write one more paragraph and she doesn’t know how to spell lots of words. When she’s finally done, she asks me if I like North Fairmount Elementary.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “I really like my teacher, Ms. Simmons, and the other teacher, Mr. Schmitz, is pretty nice too. And then there’s the crossing guard, Ray.”

  “What about the kids?”

  I shrug. “They’re okay. But they’re not really my friends. I mean ... they go back and forth.”

  Camille nods. “I know what you mean. I have a friend Beth at my school. But sometimes she thinks what I say is stupid.” Camille looks down at her paper. “I hope I’ll do better at your school than at mine. My mom says they have lots of services, like a reading van and everything.” Her face is wide and open, as if she doesn’t mind telling the whole world what she’s bad at.

  “My handwriting isn’t half as good as yours.”

  Camille smiles. “We’d make a good team. You read and I write.”

  ***

  When we eat dinner at Auntie Linda’s, Camille wants to sit next to me. After dinner, all of us kids play tangrams and charades and Twister. I can hardly believe it when Mom says it’s time to go home.

  Twelve

  Icicles

  Sunday night the wind picks up. In the morning, it’s twelve degrees and there’s a layer of ice on everything. We turn on the radio. School is on plan B, which means we start an hour later than usual. I hope Ray listens to the radio.

  Ken grabs his jacket and hurries outside to meet Michael. They are slipping and sliding in the driveway. I read A Wind in the Door for half an hour before heading to school.

  I take two icicles carefully off the stone wall where the poison ivy was.

  “Can you get poison ivy even in winter?” I ask Ray when I get to school.

  He thinks so.

  “From icicles?” I show him the two I found.

  “Those won’t hurt you. Now you better hurry. You only have about two minutes today.”

  I drop the icicles and cross the street.

  Ms. Simmons asks us to write about what we did over winter break. Allison taps me on the shoulder. “We went skiing,” she whispers. “What about you?”

  “Nothing special,” I say. I write about making paper airplanes. Ms. Simmons asks if anyone wants to read their paragraphs out loud. Laura raises her hand.

  “I went with Anna to the apartment that her mom cleans,” Laura reads. I can’t believe Laura is telling that to the whole class! Allison is looking at me with a frown on her face. “This really nice man named Mr. Shepherd lives there. He has to use a wheelchair to move around but he does everything by himself. He gave us a bunch of fabric and a sewing basket when we left. Going to Mr. Shepherd’s was the best part of my winter break.”

  I am counting the tiles on the floor. Brown, white, brown, white, then white, brown, white, brown. “Can I go with you guys next time?” Allison whispers.

  I can’t believe Allison wants to go to Mr. Shepherd’s. I don’t know what to say. Three kids might be too many for him and I don’t really like Allison. But I know what it feels like to be the one not invited. “Maybe,” I whisper.

  When I get to the crosswalk, Ray has a huge icicle for me. “Wow, this is the biggest one I’ve ever seen,” I say. “Thanks a lot.”

  Ray nods. “Can’t say I’ve seen them get much bigger than that. I guess if we were to go to Alaska, we’d see some, but not around here.”

  I hold it carefully the whole way home so it won’t break. As soon as I get inside, I open the freezer. The icicle only fits in diagonally.

  Mom looks up from her flashcards. “You still have the one from last year,” she reminds me.

  “I know. I’m saving it.” I shut the freezer door.

  We sit at the kitchen table and have my favorite bean paste, bao zia, for a snack. Then Ken goes back outside and Mom starts reading her biology book.

  I go into my room. Mom’s right, I do save everything. I still have the small acorns from Ray by my bed and the watercolors and the sewing basket from Mr. Shepherd, and a box of leftover yarn from Camille’s mom. I find a blue knitted square. It would be perfect for a hat, I think, holding it around my head. I use a big needle to sew up the side. On top, I make a fluffy pom-pom.

  In the morning, I run down the hill to show Ray my hat. But where is he? He’s never been late.

  Laura joins me at the curb. “Do you know where Ray is?” I ask.

  She shakes her head.

  Finally Miss Johnson, the playground monitor, comes out and helps us cross. I ask her if she knows anything about Ray but she hasn’t heard. Ms. Simmons doesn’t know either. All day I worry so much that I can hardly do my math problems. I take my library book out of my backpack, but my mind keeps thinking about Ray instead of the words on the page. Laura writes me a note with a sad face.

  Maybe he's sick.

  Mom says maybe Ray went to Florida for the rest of the winter, but I don’t think so. He wouldn’t miss schooldays for Florida. And he would have told us he was going.

  I call the school to get his full name. Ray McAlister, the secretary says. I look in the telephone book. There is an R. McAlister at 3624 Whitaker Street. I put on my jacket, but I’m scared to go by myself. What if R. is not Ray?

  Mom cannot come with me. She has to finish a lab report by tomorrow. Ken is outside with Michael. In my pocket is Laura’s note with the sad face. All day she kept looking out the window just like me. I pick up the phone and call her.

  “Want to go with me to Ray’s house?” I ask her. “I think I found his address.”

  “Meet you at the corner,” she says.

  We walk the six blocks and ring the doorbell. A lady opens the door. “Excuse me. We’re looking for Ray,” I say, “the crossing guard.”

  There he is, all propped up on a hill of pillows. His leg is wound in a huge orange cast the color of his vest.

  “Ray!” we shout, running right past Mrs. McAlister.

  “How do you like the color?” Ray asks.

  “It matches your vest,” Laura says.

  Ray tells us how he was getting another big icicle off the porch roof when he slipped and broke his leg. Mrs. McAlister shakes her head. “Raymond and his icicles.” Laura looks at me and we giggle. We never knew he could be Raymond.

  Ray notices my new hat. “Great thinking cap,” he says. “Wish I had one myself.”

  “It might help,” Mrs. McAlister says.

  “How many minutes until you get the cast off?” I ask.

  “A lot,” Ray says.

  Mrs. McAlister makes us hot apple cider. I tell Ray that Miss Johnson is not very good at helping us cross the street.

  “She doesn’t even know what time it is,” Laura says.

  “Now, that’s a problem,” Ray says. “Believe me, I’ll be back to work in a couple of weeks.”

  “Raymond,” Mrs. McAlister says in a warning voice.

  Ray looks at us and winks.

  Thirteen

  Sewing

  The next time Laura comes over, all the snow has melted. We take out the sewing basket from Mr. Shepherd. Laura picks up a big piece of bright yellow fabric. “I bet Allison would like this,” she says. “But she hardly talks to me anymore.”

  “Is she mad at you again?”

  Laura shrugs. Then she picks up a piece of brown wool. “My dad has a suit like this.” She looks up. “He has his own apartment now.”

  “Are your parents
divorced?”

  “Separated.”

  “Maybe they’ll get back together.”

  Laura shakes her head. “All they do is fight.” She holds up a big piece of orange fabric. “I wonder what Mrs. Shepherd was planning to make out of this?”

  “Maybe a Halloween costume for one of their grandchildren,” I say. Suddenly I have an idea. “Hey, we could make orange vests like Ray’s to help kids cross the street.”

  “But we’re not crossing guards,” Laura says.

  “I know, but we could help Miss Johnson.”

  First we measure ourselves and make patterns out of newspaper. Then we cut out the pieces and stitch them together at the shoulders. Finally we ^ put them on and look into the mirror.

  “Perfect,” Laura says, dancing around the room.

  “Is that an Irish dance?” I ask.

  “Just a dance,” she says, twirling me around.

  In the morning, Laura and I get to the curb early. The sun is starting to rise behind the school building.

  “Thank goodness I’ve got helpers today,” Miss Johnson says.

  Lucy and Allison are waiting to cross the street. “We have about six more minutes,” I say, glancing at my watch.

  Allison looks at our orange vests. “Are you two crossing guards?” she asks.

  “Just substitutes,” I say. “Until Ray gets back.”

  “Hey, Laura,” Allison says. “Want to see my new belt?”

  We both look at Allison, but you can’t see her belt with her coat on.

  “Come into the bathroom, and I’ll show you,” she says with her back to me. “It’ll only take a second.”

  Miss Johnson stands in the street and we all cross.

  “Are you coming?” Allison asks, looking only at Laura.

  “Not now,” Laura says.

  “Now or never,” Allison says. Then she grabs Lucy’s hand and they hurry toward the building.

  I look at Laura. Maybe I should tell her that she can go with them if she wants. I can help Miss Johnson until the bell rings, and after that I can read A Wind in the Door. But we sewed the orange vests together. We told Ray we would help Miss Johnson until he got back. And if Laura leaves, I will be alone.

  Laura is looking at her watch. “We have five more minutes,” she says.

  On Friday after school, Laura and I stop by Ray’s. He has gotten pretty good at getting around in the wheelchair, and he has a cast he can walk on, too. “Only problem is my toes get cold,” he says.

  “How many more minutes until you can cross us again?” I ask.

  Ray looks at the clock. “I’d say about nine hundred.”

  Quickly I divide by sixty. “That’s only fifteen hours from now.”

  “That’s tomorrow morning!” Laura says.

  “You got it,” says Ray.

  “I think you might be pushing it, Raymond,” Mrs. McAlister says.

  At home I look through the yarn. There is another knitted square sort of like my hat, only smaller. I fold it in half and stitch up the side. There. That should work to cover Ray’s toes. Mom helps me put a piece of elastic around the top to make sure it stays on. I put it into my book bag so I won’t forget to take it to Ray tomorrow.

  When I wake up, my room is strangely light.

  “February snow,” Mom says. “So heavy and wet.”

  I call Laura. “Want to visit Ray before school?” I ask her.

  “Meet you at the corner!” she says.

  I put on my boots.

  “Isn’t it too early to leave for school?” Mom asks.

  “Laura and I have a stop to make on the way,” I say.

  Ray’s kitchen light is on. I knock on the side door and he pulls the curtain back. When he sees us, he opens the door wide and hurries us in. “Hey, little ladies, so nice to see you before the sunrise.”

  Ray's sock

  I hold up the knitted sock. “Well if that isn’t the perfect way to warm up my toes.” Mrs. McAlister puts it over Ray’s toes. “I’m warmer already,” he says.

  Laura looks at the clock on the wall that’s shaped like a house. “We better hurry,” she says. “Only eleven more minutes.”

  Ray puts on his jacket. “Are you sure you’re okay to go out in all this snow, Raymond?” Mrs. McAlister asks.

  “Not to worry,” he says. “I got my helpers today.”

  Ray leans on us and we step into the snow.

  Fourteen

  Absent

  Laura is not at school on Monday. Maybe she has a stomachache like she gets sometimes. She’s not there on Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday either. I read A Swiftly Tilting Planet in two days. “Have you seen Laura?” Ms. Simmons asks me and Allison and Lucy.

  None of us has.

  “I wonder what happened to her,” Allison says to me. “Her mom’s weird, don’t you think?”

  I shrug. I don’t really know Laura’s mom. Mostly she just seems tired to me.

  When I get home, Mom is making a noodle dish to celebrate Chinese New Year. “Long noodles for a long life,” she says.

  “Laura has been absent all week,” I say.

  Mom dries her hands on a towel. “Let’s walk to their house.”

  We ring the doorbell, but nobody answers and their car is gone.

  “Do they have family here?” Mom asks.

  “Her aunt. And she has more relatives in Michigan.”

  “Maybe they went there,” Mom says.

  I wonder what it would be like if they decided to stay in Michigan and I never saw Laura again. Thinking that makes my eyes water.

  At home I look through the fabric scraps. There are some pieces that would be big enough for small drawstring bags like the one I made for my lunch bag. I cut out rectangles and lay them out in a row on the floor. I could match dark blue and light blue, but then it might look better with red. I wish Laura were here to help me decide. I don’t really feel like sewing the bags without her.

  Ken starts rearranging the fabric on the floor.

  “Don’t.”

  He tosses a handful of rectangles into the air. “They’re just a bunch of rags.”

  “They are not,” I say.

  I look out the window. The sun is shining behind the branches of the mulberry tree outside my window. Soon the buds will get fat and the funny-shaped leaves will open. When the berries fall, Laura and I can collect them to make berry stew.

  I take a piece of paper and on the top I write, Dear Laura, I hope you come home soon. From, Anna. Then I cut out tiny rectangles of fabric and glue them onto the bottom of the card. It’s bright and cheerful, but it still needs something. I know. On the back I use my watercolors to write peng you in Chinese characters. Underneath I write the meaning: Friend.

  Mom is at the dining room table, putting chocolate coins into special red envelopes that we get for Chinese New Year. “Can I have one of those envelopes?” I ask.

  Mom hands me one with the Chinese character for happiness in gold on the front. I fold my card and stuff it into the envelope. Mom gives me a chocolate coin to go with it. Then I ride my scooter down to Laura’s house and slip the red envelope underneath their door.

  Fifteen

  Staying Home

  Saturday morning Mom gathers her cleaning supplies. “Are you coming with me today?” she asks.

  I can’t decide. Mr. Shepherd might be expecting me. But it’s cold outside and I don’t feel like getting dressed and it’s not as fun there without Laura. Plus I have ten Chinese characters to learn for this afternoon. “I think I’ll stay home,” I tell Mom.

  Mom is putting on her jacket. “Dad closed the store last night, so he’s still asleep. When Ken wakes up, keep an eye on him until Dad wakes up.”

  I am just reaching for my book when the doorbell rings. I look out the window, and Laura is standing there without even a jacket on. I hurry to open the door.

  “I thought you’d probably be cleaning with your mom,” she says. “But I wanted to check just in case.”


  “I decided to stay home today.” I grab her arms and practically pull her into the house. “It’s freezing out there.”

  Laura is shivering so much that her teeth are chattering.

  “Where’s your jacket?” I ask.

  “I left it at my cousin’s house.” Laura looks down. “My mom told me not to bother you so much. But I showed her the card you left for me and then she said I could come over. If you’re not busy.”

  “I’m just reading.”

  I want to ask Laura why she wasn’t at school all week, but her eyes are puffy and she’s still shivering. We go into my room and cover ourselves with a blanket. Then I reach over to my bookshelf and take off some of my old picture books.

  “Hey, I remember that book,” she says, pointing to George Shrinks. “It used to scare me to death.”

  “Why?”

  “I was afraid that maybe someday I’d shrink too,” she says. “I still don’t like it.” She sets the book aside and picks up another one. “Hey, here’s Little Blue and Little Yellow.”

  We read it together.

  “Remember how everyone thought we were a Visa card?” Laura asks.

  “Except for Mr. Shepherd. Ken and I went over there with the costume, and he knew who we were.”