The Kindness Club: Designed by Lucy

by Courtney Sheinmel

  “Your mom might say no,” I said. To be honest, part of me hoped that she would. Then I wouldn’t be the only person with a parent who wouldn’t have a party for Serena. I knew that thought made me an unkind person, but I couldn’t help it.

  “I’m sure she’ll say yes,” Chloe said.

  And she was right. When we got to her house, Chloe called Mrs. Silver and explained the situation.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Chloe said. She gave Theo and me the thumbs-up sign, and when she hung up, she turned to us and said, “We’re all set!”

  “That’s great news,” Theo said. “We can still decorate and make things look festive.”

  “Definitely,” Chloe said. “But not right now. My mom wants me to do my homework before she gets home to take me to my dad’s.”

  “That’s fine,” Theo said. “I have an experiment set up in my basement, and I need to move the grass under the blue light to under the red light.”

  “Lucy, do you want to stay?” Chloe asked. “We could do homework together.”

  I shook my head. “I better get home, too.” Not because I had an experiment in the basement, and not because anyone wanted me home. I just wanted to be by myself for a while.

  I walked down the block with Theo, toward both of our houses. He lives two blocks away from Chloe, and I live three. For the first block, we didn’t talk at all. That was something good about Theo I’d never realized before—when you’re in the mood for things to be quiet, it’s easy to keep things that way, because most of the time he’s happy just thinking things in his head. I was thinking things in my head, too. Things I didn’t want to say out loud. Things I didn’t even want to have to think about.

  “Hey,” Theo said suddenly. “I just realized we should’ve called Vanessa to tell her to spread the word about the change of venue. We can call together, if you want.”

  “Don’t you have work to do?” I asked.

  “Yeah, but if you want some company, that’s okay, too.”

  I shook my head. “No, thanks,” I said. “Would you mind calling Vanessa without me?”

  “I don’t mind,” he said. We were quiet again for another half block. I could see Theo’s house from where we were. With the sign staked in the yard, it was hard to miss:

  THE BARNES CLINIC

  STEPHEN BARNES, DVM

  “I know you’re upset,” Theo said. “But it’s not your fault. You know that, right?”

  “It is,” I said. “It’s so dumb that I made my name ‘Lucky Lucy’ when we bowled. I’m actually the opposite. I’m letting everyone down. That means I don’t have any luck at all.”

  “You only feel that way because of what happened to you.”

  “You’d feel that way, too, if your dad said you could have a party and then he unsaid it.”

  “I don’t mean what happened at the alley,” Theo said. “I mean what happened when you were little, with your mom. Kids whose moms die have more sadness and more fears, because they’re missing someone who mattered so much.”

  Tingles.

  So. Many. Tingles. From the tippy-top of my head to the tips of my toes.

  “Did you read that in one of your textbooks?” I managed to ask.

  “No,” Theo said. “I heard my parents talking about it last night.”

  “Well, I think they’re wrong. This isn’t about my mom. I wasn’t even thinking about her. I was thinking about Serena and her mom. I feel really bad … badly … whatever.”

  “Bad,” Theo said. “Do you need me to do something kind for you right now to get your serotonin levels up? I have some of Anabelle’s candy left. You could have some.”

  I shook my head. “I just want to go home.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Lucy,” Theo said.

  “Yup. See you.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Dad didn’t come home for dinner that night. Grandma said it was because he wanted to put a little space between us.

  “You mean he’s avoiding me?” I asked. As far as I knew, no one in my family had ever had a reason to avoid me before.

  “He just needs a break today,” Grandma said. She just stood and brought her bowl to the sink. I noticed she’d left most of her beef stew uneaten. So had I. I set my spoon down in the bowl with a soft clink. “You done?”

  “Yeah.”

  She picked up my bowl. For the first time since the dishwasher had broken, I didn’t offer to help her clean everything up.

  “I have homework,” I said.

  “Well, go on then,” Grandma said.

  “Okay.”

  I was halfway out the door when she called me back. “Oh, hey, Lucy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I spoke to Valerie at the Community House. She said she thought you were coming in again.”

  “Right. I promised the kids I’d bring the quilt in. I almost forgot.”

  “Now who’s forgetting things?”

  “I said almost.”

  “Okay, well,” Grandma said. “Tell everyone I say hello.”

  “You’re not coming,” I said. “Are you avoiding me?”

  “Don’t be silly, mago. I’m just working hard these days, too—and luckily I have the Kindness Club to fill in for me.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, okay,” I said.

  The next morning, I folded up the quilt and slipped it neatly into a brown paper bag. I briefly considered telling Grandma that I didn’t feel well enough to go to school. I didn’t want to face Chloe and Theo, even though I knew they’d be really kind to me. But still, I didn’t feel like facing them. But if I played sick, Grandma probably wouldn’t let me go to the Community House after school. She’d think I’d infect the kids or something, and then I’d end up letting them down, too.

  On the way to school, Theo told me he’d talked to Vanessa, who’d promised to spread the word to everyone else: Serena’s party would be at Chloe’s house, still at noon, and still a surprise.

  But at lunchtime, we found out that wasn’t the case after all.

  The first sign of trouble was that Serena didn’t come sit at our table. She was with the It Girls instead, and while I was disappointed that she picked lunch with them over the Kindness Club, I understood: Vanessa was there, and Vanessa was her best friend. She was just sitting with her best friend, the way I was sitting with my best friends.

  But when I raised my hand to wave to her, she didn’t wave back. That was the second sign of trouble.

  The third and final sign came when we’d finished eating and were taking our trays over to the conveyor belt. And it wasn’t so much a sign as it was an in-your-face, impossible-to-ignore statement. Serena came up to drop her tray, too. She was with Vanessa, plus Rachael, Anjali, and Monroe. Having five of them there was intimidating. Five against three. I was still hoping that there wasn’t a problem. But a bad feeling had settled inside me at the bowling alley, and it had been growing bigger and bigger ever since.

  It was Monroe who spoke first: “Lucy, Serena has something she wants to tell you.”

  From the tone of her voice I had a feeling that whatever Serena wanted to say wasn’t going to be good. I tried to ignore that feeling.

  “I can tell her if you want,” Vanessa offered.

  Serena shook her head. “No, I can.” She looked at me. “I’m sorry, Lucy.”

  “You don’t have to tell her you’re sorry,” Monroe interrupted.

  “I know you were trying to do a nice thing,” Serena went on. “But I don’t want my birthday party to be a project for the Kindness Club. That’s even worse than the DML.”

  “Your birthday party? You know?”

  “I told her,” Monroe said.

  “But … but …,” I sputtered.

  “I wasn’t going to,” Monroe said. “But we were talking about her birthday, and she said she didn’t want to do anything this year. Then I had to tell her, so she’d know not to show up. It’s her birthday after all. She should get to decide.”

  I couldn’t argue with tha
t.

  “Are you sure?” Chloe asked Serena. “We moved it to my house.”

  “I know,” Serena said. “But I don’t want a party anywhere. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said. There was nothing else to say.

  Vanessa put her arm around Serena. Then Monroe put her arm around the other side. They walked away, and I just stood there, with Chloe and Theo beside me. I couldn’t even look at them. I’d told Vanessa and Monroe that they hadn’t been treating Serena quite right—that they’d been making her feel worse about her mom. But this whole thing had been my idea, and that meant I’d made her feel the worst of all. My eyes felt hot, and my heart felt like it had been jabbed with the hot dog tongs behind the concession stand at Tanaka Lanes.

  The bell rang, and slowly, slowly, I followed Theo and Chloe back to class.

  After school, there was only one thing I wanted to do, and that was go home and get under the covers and never come out. I told Chloe and Theo to bring the quilt to the Community House without me.

  “Oh, but we couldn’t!” Chloe said. “It wouldn’t be right. You’re the one who did all the work.”

  “You guys helped.”

  “Not really. Look at this, Lucy.” She pulled a corner out of the bag. I could see the blue tie-dyed back of the quilt, and on the front, the patch that Wendell had made: a lizard breathing fire.

  “It didn’t come out the way I wanted it to,” I told Chloe. “The patches got a little bunched up.”

  “I didn’t even notice,” Theo said. “It looks great. It’s the best quilt I’ve ever seen.”

  “That’s only because you haven’t seen many,” I told him.

  “Come on, Lucy,” Chloe said. “It wouldn’t be the same without you there. And we want to help you feel better—seeing the kids get the quilt would make you feel better. You know that—that’s how serotonin works.”

  I didn’t think there was any way my brain could make any serotonin. I was too upset. “Please,” I said. “The thing you could do to help me is take the quilt to the kids and just leave me alone. I think I’m an introvert after all.”

  “No, you’re not,” Theo said. “You’re just an extrovert having a bad day.”

  “Well, I still need some alone time.”

  “Okay. Well. I’ll call to check on you later, then,” Chloe said.

  “Me too,” Theo said.

  “’Bye,” I told them.

  CHAPTER 22

  The next morning, I did something I’d never done. I stayed home from school when I wasn’t really sick.

  Or maybe I really was sick. I couldn’t even tell. I certainly felt horrible. My stomach felt like it was doing a gymnastics show inside my body. My eyes were achy and my head was heavy. Lifting it up off the pillow felt like too much work.

  Grandma’s hand on my forehead was as cool as a piece of paper. “You don’t have a fever,” she said. “But I can take you to the doctor if you’re unwell.”

  “No, I don’t want to go anywhere,” I said, burrowing my face in my bed. “I just want to sleep.”

  “That’s fine,” Grandma said. “I’ll let Quinnifer’s know I have to stay home from work today.”

  I shook my head in my pillow. “No, you should go,” I mumbled.

  “What’s that, mago?”

  I rolled over and pushed myself up on my elbows. “You should go.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind. My number-one job is to take care of you.”

  “I’m not a baby. You don’t have to stay home.”

  “All right, then. You call me if you need anything.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “And I’ll let Mrs. Gallagher know that you’re home, too.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she’s close by,” Grandma said. “If you need me, I’ll be home as fast as humanly possible. But in an emergency, Mrs. Gallagher can get here even faster.”

  “I won’t need anything,” I said, burrowing back down again.

  I didn’t do anything but lie in bed all morning. Once I’d gotten up to go to the bathroom. And once I’d gone downstairs to get a snack from the kitchen. Grandma had left some rice crackers out on the table, with a Post-it note attached:

  But I didn’t feel like eating them. I got a glass of water and headed back upstairs.

  When the doorbell rang, the clock on my dresser said it was 12:31. I was still in bed. I hadn’t changed into regular clothes, not even plain-looking ones. I grabbed the robe off the hook on my door and went downstairs as the doorbell sounded again.

  Grandma didn’t say anything about someone coming over to visit. And if it were Dad or Grandma coming to check on me, they’d just use their own keys. I thought back to a “safety assembly” we’d had in the third grade: Don’t get into a car with a stranger, don’t eat anything a stranger offers you, and don’t let a stranger into your house.

  I had no plans to let a stranger into my house. I was just going to look through the peephole. If it wasn’t someone I knew, I’d call Grandma. No, I’d call the police. And I’d hide in the closet before they got there. Better yet, the bathroom, because there was a lock on the door. I’d lock myself in and wait for help to arrive.

  Whoever was at the door started to knock. Three raps.

  My heart began to beat faster. Why’d I have to tell Grandma to leave me alone this morning?

  I tiptoed toward the door, crouching down so that whoever was outside wouldn’t be able to look through the peephole and see me.

  But when I looked out, it wasn’t a stranger. It was Mrs. Gallagher. I unlocked the door and opened it.

  “Hi,” I said. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?”

  “Oh, yes, dear,” Mrs. G said. “I’m absolutely fine. The question is, are you okay?”

  I shrugged.

  She held her arm up to signal she’d brought me something in a brown paper bag. “I took a walk into town and picked up a little soup for you. They say chicken noodle soup has medicinal properties. I’m not sure if that’s real or just wishful thinking. Either way, it tastes good.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Maybe I’ll have some a little later.”

  “Have you eaten anything today?”

  “Not really. I’ve just been sleeping.”

  “Well, may I come in? I’ll fix you a bowl?”

  I wanted to say no, but I didn’t want to be rude, so I murmured, “mmm hmm” and held the door open wider.

  Mrs. G came inside. “The kitchen is this way?” she asked, her body turned toward the right.

  “No, it’s the other way. Our houses are opposite.”

  “Well, what do you know? They are.”

  I followed her into the kitchen. She told me to sit down. It was weird having a guest tell me to take a seat at my own table, but I did as she said. She had a much easier time finding things in my kitchen than I had finding things in hers. She opened a cabinet and closed it. Opened another and found a bowl. I watched her pour in some soup. She brought it over to the table along with a spoon.

  “Thank you.” I dipped my spoon down and lifted it up to my mouth to take a small slurp.

  “Feeling any better?”

  “I guess. I’ll take a nap again after this. Did you ever have one of those days when you just wanted to fall asleep and wake up when things had changed.”

  “Yes, dear,” Mrs. G said. “But you’re too young to feel that way.”

  “I may be young,” I told her. “But I still felt that way. Young people can feel just as bad as old people can—no offense to your age.”

  “None taken,” Mrs. G said. “For what it’s worth, sleep wasn’t really a solution. I had to learn to keep myself busy in other ways.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as being friends with you.”

  “I’m glad we’re friends, too,” I said. “But I still want to sleep through the rest of fifth grade. Maybe through sixth, too. I tried to do something kind, and it pretty much blew up in my face.”

  “Oh?”
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  “Remember the birthday party I wanted to throw for Serena?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well, you were right. We never should’ve planned one for her. She didn’t even want one. But her aunt said yes, as you know, and we told everyone that we were going to have it at the bowling alley. Then, after all that, my dad said we couldn’t have it there. Even though he’d already said yes, he said no. So then Chloe said … oh, it doesn’t matter what Chloe said. The point is, I let Serena down and now everyone knows about it.”

  “That sounds like a tough day,” Mrs. G said. “But if it was your worst, consider yourself lucky. There are worse things that can happen, and I think you know that.”

  “I know you mean my mom, but I don’t remember that.”

  “That may be true. But I don’t believe for a second that it doesn’t affect you.”

  “I really wanted to do something for Serena, you know? Now I feel so bad. I wasn’t even in the mood to take the quilt to the community house yesterday.”

  “Quilt? What quilt?”

  “The kids in the after-school program decorated patches, and I sewed them together.”

  “I didn’t know you quilted. I love quilting.”

  “It was my first time. It wasn’t perfect, but I was excited to give it to the kids. Then all this bad stuff happened, and I didn’t want to be kind to anyone. Chloe and Theo brought the quilt over for me. I did zero kind things yesterday, and so far I’ve done zero today. I’m supposed to do at least three.”

  “It’s hardest to help others when we’re feeling our saddest.”

  “It sure is,” I agreed.

  “But,” Mrs. G went on, “I think that may be when it’s most important. We can lift people up as we try to lift up ourselves.”

  “I didn’t even do a very good job on the quilt, if you want to know the truth. It doesn’t look like I wanted it to.”

  “It’s the thought that counts, Lucy, and it was a lovely thought,” Mrs. G said. “You’ve had a lot of lovely thoughts lately. You are kind, and your kindness is part of what makes you powerful. But no matter how hard you worked on Serena’s birthday—if you had it at the bowling alley, or at Disney World, or even on another planet—you can’t change the fact that her mom is gone. It’s awful, but there’s nothing you can do about it.”