“Thanks.”
“I’m glad I found you out here. I was wondering if you and Butter would be interested in making a last-minute appearance in the third-grade classrooms this morning? Their state assessments are today, and we think Butter could really help with the nerves.”
“Sure!” After our success with the lower school visit, I’m eager to do it.
I head down to the third-grade wing and wait outside the classrooms for the bell. Our job is to visit each class for a few minutes to spread peace and calm. Almost all the kids know Butter by now, so this should be easy-peasy, and the truth is, I am feeling proud as a peacock to be entrusted with this job. Butter and I are doing something special and making a difference.
The first visits go smoothly. All the third graders really appreciate having Butter visit them, and we’re almost done. Just one class left.
I open the door to the last classroom.
I have Butter do a few of her best tricks for the kids—she kisses, high-fives, and stands on her hind legs. The third graders love it.
My favorite way to end a visit is to let the kids feed Butter Cheerios so they can feel her muzzle tickling their palms. It’s always a hit.
I hand out Cheerios and the kids laugh when she eats them out of her hand, and that’s it. That’s all we have to do.
I’m getting ready to leave when Ms. Stewart stops me. “Do you think you could help me move some of these desks around for the test before you go?”
“I’d be happy to.” The desks are grouped for collaborative work, not the best formation for testing.
I let Butter’s leash go and tell her to stay. She gives me a pouty look. I pet her head. “You’ll be fine! It’ll just take a second.”
Ms. Stewart and I get to work moving the desks around. There are thirty of them. Every few minutes, I look over to make sure Butter is where I left her.
“Two more,” Ms. Stewart says.
“Great.” I help her move one.
“How do you get your goat to do all those tricks? I didn’t know goats could do that.” Ms. Stewart adjusts the desk we moved to line it up with the others.
“It’s not as hard as you think. Goats are really—”
“Ms. Stewart.” A third grader comes up and taps her on the arm.
“Hold on, Annie. Marvel is telling me something. Remember, we talked about waiting for your turn.” Ms. Stewart turns to me. “Go on.”
“Well, goats are really smart. They can do almost anything a dog can. Do you know they were one of the first—”
“Ms. Stewart.” Annie taps her again.
“Annie, I’ll be right with you, sweetheart. Marvel was talking, and she’s our guest. She gets to speak first, and we let her talk until she finishes.”
“Okay,” Annie says.
“They were one of the first domesticated animals.”
“Wow. That’s interesting.”
Speaking of animals, I haven’t checked on Butter for a few minutes. I turn my head and look for her.
Butter is still standing where I left her, but she has somehow pulled a box of papers off Ms. Stewart’s desk and onto the floor. They’re strewn all over the place, blanketing the floor.
Butter stands in the middle of the mess, happily munching on the papers like hay.
Ms. Stewart gasps and puts her hand over her mouth. “Oh no!”
Annie pokes Ms. Stewart again. “That’s what I was trying to tell you!”
I run over to Butter and take the papers away from her and try to put them back in the box, but there are too many sheets to clean up quickly and several are shredded, multiplying the mess. I’m still on my hands and knees trying to clean up when I say, “I’m sorry. I should have been watching her. Were they important?”
“Very. These papers are the state tests.” She looks stricken as she pulls the trash can over. She starts gathering up handfuls of the documents and dumping them in the trash, but the mess is overwhelming and she leans back on her heels as if defeated by the task.
I keep cleaning as she stands up and goes to the classroom phone.
A sense of growing doom makes my chest constrict. “Are you calling someone?”
Her kind face turns grave as she says, “Principal Huxx. There are very strict state rules about the tests. I have to let her know right away.”
My heart sinks. Eating state tests definitely falls under the category of being a public nuisance. Butter’s never going to be allowed to come to school with me again.
It takes about two minutes for Principal Huxx to get to the classroom.
She takes one look at the eaten tests and shakes her head in dismay. “Follow me to the office. We need to call your father to come pick up the goat. Innovative or not, I can’t allow her at school after this.”
My head hangs low and tears fall from my eyes as Butter and I follow Principal Huxx to the office.
For the first time in three weeks, I go to school without Butter, and it’s like a piece of my soul is missing. The whole day, I count the hours and then minutes until I can see her again.
Thankfully Butter is still allowed to be in the play. When the bell rings, Addie and Mercedes walk home with me to pick her up for play practice.
Mercedes chatters the whole way, talking about stage makeup tips she picked up from a ballerina on YouTube. While Mercedes talks, Addie playfully dances around Mercedes and me, making us giggle. I love hanging out with both of them and think I might like to try ballet class again if the play goes well.
When my house comes into view, Mercedes pauses mid-sentence and puts a hand on Addie to keep her from twirling. “Do you have company staying with you?”
“No. Why?”
Mercedes points to a white pickup truck with a trailer parked in my driveway.
“Huh.” I don’t know anyone who drives a truck like that. Probably one of my mom’s landscaper friends.
Addie’s stomach rumbles. “I’m starving.”
“Me too. Let’s check on Butter before I grab snacks.” I walk through the back gate and into the garden. As soon as I get close enough and see the top of Butter’s head, I breathe a sigh of relief to be near her again. I peek over the enclosure fence and see her nibbling happily on hay.
She senses me, and pops her head up. She chews peacefully while watching me with her ice-blue eyes.
I lean over the fence and pet the side of her face.
Addie, Mercedes, and I go into the enclosure, and smother her with love.
I snap her leash on her collar and hold the leash out to them. “Do you mind hanging with Butter while I run inside to get our snacks?”
“Yeah, we’d rather not,” Mercedes teases, and I laugh because I know they love Butter almost as much as I do.
Addie takes the leash, and Mercedes grabs Butter’s brush. “We’ll fancy her up. I can’t have my star performer going around ungroomed.”
Butter bleats as if she’s skeptical of Mercedes’s definition of fancy.
I smile at Butter and kiss her pink nose before departing.
“Mom!” I call as I walk inside. “Whose truck is that in the driveway?”
“It’s mine,” a woman’s voice says from the living room.
I pause mid-step and turn.
An older woman with gray hair is sitting on my couch. “You must be Marvel. Your mother’s been telling me about you.” The baggy sweater and loose-fitting blue jeans she’s wearing look oddly similar to my Grandma Prisbrey costume. It’s almost as if she took it out of my closet and put it on.
“Yes. Who are you?”
The older woman stands up. “My name is Gloria Fizzle. I’m thrilled to meet you. Your mom has told me how you cared for my sweet Butter. I don’t know how to thank you enough.”
“What are you talking—”
Mom comes into the living room, interrupting me. “Marvel, this is Gloria …” She pauses, uncomfortable. “Butter’s owner.”
“But I’m Butter’s—
“Honey, she saw the
posting on Nextdoor,” Mom says, her voice a mixture of guilt and regret.
I shake my head. I can’t be hearing Mom right.
Mom wraps her arms around me. “She’s come to claim Butter. She’s been searching for her.”
“No,” I snap. “Absolutely not.” This is outrageous. Who does this Gloria think she is? She can’t waltz into my home and take Butter.
Gloria looks remorseful. “I’m so sorry, dear.”
I push away from Mom. “How do we know this woman isn’t some imposter? The Internet’s full of dangerous scammers. Where’s the proof she’s Butter’s owner?” I twist my hands, frantic for a solution because Mom acts like she’s going to hand Butter right over.
Gloria shows me some documents. “These are Butter’s registration papers. I’ve been raising mini myotonics, a special breed of fainting goats, for about thirty years.”
For someone who has been raising goats for so long, she’s not very good at it. This woman lost Butter. Those papers don’t mean anything. She isn’t a fit caretaker for Butter. “You abandoned her! Left her to fend for herself. When I found her, she was being teased by a group of kids. She was all alone and terrified. She was eating garbage out of a trash can!” The volume of my voice shocks me, but I can’t help it. My fear, anger, and heartbreak pour out of me in a waterfall of uncontrollable emotions. She can’t take Butter. She just can’t.
“Marvel! That’s enough,” Mom says, appalled by my behavior. “This is Butter’s owner. She has every right to claim her.”
Gloria looks miserable. “I discovered a hole in the fencing around her pasture. I have no idea how she made it all the way over to your school. I searched everywhere for her. I’ve kept looking for her this entire time, but I feared the worst. I’m so thankful you found her and protected her. I hate to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t saved her.”
Gloria tries to put her hand on my arm. I jerk it away.
The front door opens, and a few seconds later, Dad stands next to me, taking in the scene. Relief washes over me like a wave. Now that he’s here, he’ll fix it. Ever since Butter came into my life, he’s been our ally. He loves Butter as much as I do. I slip my hand into his. “She’s trying to take Butter. Tell her she can’t.”
Mom quickly fills Dad in on the situation.
As she talks, his trustworthy, always-straight shoulders droop. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
My brow creases with confusion. “Tell her she’s not allowed to take her.”
He answers with stoic heartbreak. “You know I can’t.”
My heart fills with a dread so heavy I feel like I’m sinking. I squeeze Dad’s hand tighter. “Please,” I plead. “I need her.”
Gloria gives me a sad smile. “I didn’t mean to upset anyone. I should probably get Butter and head home.”
“Of course. I’ll take you to her.” Mom leads Gloria toward the back door and the garden.
“Dad, no! Don’t let them.” I try to run after Mom and Gloria.
Dad catches me by the waist. “Marvel, you can’t.”
“She’s taking Butter!” I break free from him and run after them.
Addie and Mercedes stand inside the enclosure and watch, confused, as Gloria takes Butter. As soon as they see my face, they seem to understand.
Dad catches up to me and holds me in place while Gloria leads Butter away.
Mom wipes her eyes. “I’ll walk you around to the driveway.”
Butter hesitates and looks back at me, bleating.
Gloria gently coaxes Butter forward, but she digs in with her back hooves, refusing to be led away.
Gloria glances in my direction, and I think she’s going to change her mind. Instead, she strokes Butter’s head. Then she picks her up and carries her away.
Tears pour down my cheeks as I stare at the empty space.
Addie and Mercedes come and stand beside me. One on each side, trying to comfort me with their presence, but I’m inconsolable. Gloria has stolen my heart, and I’ll never get it back.
I don’t feel well. I haven’t all day. Mom brought me soup and ginger ale in bed, so I must really be sick. I keep the thermometer near me and take my temperature at regular intervals. It always measures the same 98.6, but a thermometer can’t measure the degree of a broken heart.
I stare out the window at Butter’s enclosure and wonder if she’s okay. If I could only see her and know she’s being well cared for, I’d feel a little better.
Mom knocks on my door. She comes in without me inviting her in. She’s been in and out all day, checking on me, bringing me snacks and trying to coax me out. I’m mad at her, and she knows it. She never wanted me to have Butter in the first place, and she finally got her wish.
“You have some visitors.” She steps back from the door.
Addie, Mercedes, and Theo walk in my room. All three are dressed in their ballet clothes. They sure do have a lot on their plates. Busy. Busy. Busy.
Mercedes sits on my bed. “Dress rehearsals are starting soon. I roped my little brother into dressing up like a goat. It’s not the same as having Butter in the play, I know, but we still need you.
“You’re our Peter,” Theo says.
They don’t know what they’re asking. Without Butter, I’m not brave and I’m not different. I’m the same old Marvel who worries about everything and gets stage fright so badly I turn to stone. “I’m sorry. I can’t do it. Not without Butter. I’ll freeze up and ruin the play. Besides there’s no reason for me to be up there anyway. Anyone can play him now. Without Butter, none of it matters.”
Addie rubs my arm. “It matters to us.”
I feel a lump rise in my throat, and I swallow it down. I push everything down. “You’ll have to get someone to take over for me.”
“But we want you,” Mercedes says. “We need you.”
I sit up. “I can’t without Butter. Just give me my old townsperson part back. I’ll do that to make Principal Huxx happy, but not the other part.”
Mercedes says, “If you change your—”
I don’t even let her finish. “I won’t.” My answer is final.
None of us seem to know what to say after that. Finally, Mercedes says, “We have to go. We have dance class.”
When they get to the door, Addie turns. “Will we see you at school on Monday?”
“I don’t think so.” If I have my way, I’m never going back there.
I don’t get my way.
* * *
Sunday evening, Dad comes into my room.
I’m at my computer. I’ve been googling Can you die of heartbreak?
He peers over my shoulder and looks at the screen, but doesn’t comment on the content. “Ready for school tomorrow?”
Dad’s words cause dread to coil in my stomach and make me feel really sick. “I could homeschool and do all my courses online. You know how good I am with the computer and research.”
“Hiding from the world isn’t the answer.” Dad’s voice has that parental confidence that screams I know best.
I swivel in my desk chair to face him. “Without Butter to come home to, I can’t go back there.”
“I know you don’t want to. But sometimes that’s life. We do things even when we don’t want to, and in this case you don’t have a choice. Principal Huxx said no more absences or you’re going to fail.”
“Maybe you could call her and explain the situation,” I suggest, hoping Dad will take pity on me and arrange for me to stay home.
Dad shakes his head. “Sorry, honey.”
I sigh. They’re going to make me go.
“Once you get there, you might find you’re glad you returned.”
“I won’t,” I say, knowing without a doubt that it’s true.
“Sweetheart, I know you’re sad, but life has to move forward. So, tomorrow. School.” Dad slaps his hands on his thighs and stands up. Decision rendered.
* * *
As promised, Mom wakes me up in time to get ready for school.
No more ginger ale and soup in my room. My mourning period is over even though I’m still hurting.
“Are you walking today?” Mom asks cheerily, like nothing is wrong.
I glare at her. She knows I can’t walk to school without Butter. “No.”
“Okay, then!” Mom says, chirpy and happy like an annoying parakeet. “I’ll grab my keys.”
She drives me through the car line to drop me off.
Principal Huxx pulls open the car door. I step out, and she slams it shut. Mom waves as she drives away, but I don’t return the gesture. I know I should, but I don’t. I’ll forgive her eventually. Just not today.
“Your father called to tell me about Butter,” Principal Huxx says, peering at me with her authoritative glare, and I wonder if I’m somehow in trouble with her for bringing someone else’s pet to school.
“Yeah,” I say, filling the awkward silence that flares between us.
“I’m sorry to hear it. Butter seemed to help you become the person the rest of us know you to be.” She’s curt but caring, and the unexpected kind compliment from her makes my eyes well with tears.
“Thanks,” I say.
She pats me on the shoulder and then snaps back into her normal self. “Get to class before the bell. You can’t afford to be late.”
I have language arts first again. I sit down at my table. Addie, Mercedes, and Theo pull their chairs close to mine. Other than their weirdly close proximity, they act normal, which is nice because it doesn’t require too much from me and that’s good because I’m too miserable to make conversation.
The day drags on and on. Everyone but me wants to talk about Butter. When lunchtime rolls around I go to the library instead of meeting Addie, Theo, and Mercedes on the playground. There’s no point without Butter.
After school, I go to the auditorium for play practice.
Mercedes is both directing and playing Peter. Her younger brother crawls around on the stage trying to bleat like a goat. Everyone is moving on but me.
I take my place with the townsfolk and try to blend in until practice ends. There are two weeks until the performance, and I can’t wait for it to be over.
Better With Butter Page 17