Read Just Claire Online

Authors: Jean Ann Williams

Just Claire (8 page)

11

FROM EVERY STORMY WIND THAT BLOWS

W
ith her other hand
, Belinda squeezed ClaireLee's three times.

“I'm scared.” ClaireLee gripped harder.

In a gentle motion, Belinda pulled ClaireLee into a one-arm hug. The very act released the pressure within ClaireLee's ribs and she could breathe. It nestled her into a place safer than the stark reality of Mama's sobs on Daddy's chest.

ClaireLee had lost track of Lolly, but under the table fort where the boys slept one of her siblings whimpered. As Feather wailed—adding to the chaos—Belinda left and returned to hand the baby to ClaireLee. The two friends sat on the living room bed. Waiting. ClaireLee rocked her brother. “Shh, shh, Feather, shh, shh.”
Lord, help Mama. Help us all.
A sob struggled to free itself from ClaireLee's throat. She fought it and won. For now.

Daddy guided Mama to her bed and said to her, “I'll stay home from work in the morning, so you can rest.”

Following Daddy, ClaireLee carried Feather in her arms. At Mama's bedside, she positioned the baby next to Mama on the mattress. He latched on and drank fully, his grunts and gulps louder than Lolly's muffled cries in the kitchen.

“I need to step outside for a minute.” Studying Mama and combing his fingers through his bearded chin, Daddy asked ClaireLee, “Will you stay, Claire Bear?”

Every muscle in ClaireLee shuddered.
Don't leave me alone with her. What if she cries?

But, ClaireLee nodded, for Daddy's eyes had filled with tears.
I don't want Daddy to cry, too.

She caressed Feather's head as he sighed and suckled, while Mama rested. ClaireLee gathered her courage—wanting to put aside her fear of Mama's outburst. “You'll feel better soon, Mama,” she said, as she traced her fingers along the soft lines of Mama's forehead. “I just know it.”

A tear streaked and pooled on Mama's cheekbone.

ClaireLee's eyes misted. She could no longer keep her tears to herself. They spilled and sprinkled onto the baby and his blanket.
What is happening to our once-happy mama?

M
uch later
, the cabin quieted with only the sounds of the river in the background. ClaireLee tossed in the bed next to Lolly, unable to chase away the frightening image of Mama falling to pieces.

The mattress sunk, and Belinda rolled onto her elbow. “Your ma's sure sad.”

Right then, an idea came to ClaireLee. She slipped from under the covers and crawled out. “I'm going to stay by Mama.”

In the shadow of the porch light, Belinda's voice came soft. “Good.”

Feeling her way to her parents' room, ClaireLee knelt on the hardwood floor at Mama's side of the bed.
How can I make Mama feel better?
She considered this. To do this thing, which had never before occurred to her in her thirteen years.
What makes Mama glad? What does she love?
It came to her, then, fluttering through her thoughts like a whisper.

Beginning, ClaireLee sang Mama's favorite song in a quiet soprano voice. “From ev'ry stormy wind that blows, from ev'ry swelling tide of woes, there is a calm, a sure retreat. 'Tis found beneath the mercy seat.” ClaireLee pondered what mercy seat meant, when Mama reached for her hand. They both hung on.

Long moments passed.

The floor hurt ClaireLee's knees, but she snuggled between Mama's arm and near Feather's soft spot on his head where his heart pulsed in the darkened room
.

O
n Monday before first bell
, ClaireLee dragged herself into the classroom like a dark cloud ready to gush rain. How much could she trust Belinda? Would her new friend tell the kids at school about Mama's crying spell?

Mrs. Reed pushed back from her paperwork. “How was your weekend, Claire?”

She stifled a yawn. “Belinda spent the night.”

“What did you girls do?” Mrs. Reed laid aside her red pen.

“We made pudding, and Belinda helped me with chores.”
I should have made Belinda cross her heart to not breathe a word of what happened.

“Ah, so nice.” Mrs. Reed's eyes crinkled with mystery. “Do you own any books, Claire?”

The question threw her off, and she had trouble organizing her words. After a moment, she recited her list. “
Really So Stories
,
Mother Goose
,
Childcraft of Fairytales
, and
Secret of the Old Clock.

Bending, Mrs. Reed reached for a handle to the right side of her desk. “How would you like another?”

The ol' gray cloud lifted. ClaireLee couldn't help it—she chuckled. Her dry lips split a smidgen, and she pressed it with a finger. “It would be neat, Mrs. Reed.”

Mrs. Reed opened the drawer, and her fingers disappeared inside. “Claire, I'd like to give you this.” She thrust out her hand for ClaireLee to take the shiny black book. “A New Testament tells about God's Son Jesus and what he did for humanity.”

She inhaled the leather scent, and ClaireLee's fingers caressed the cover's texture. Opening the pages, she read the
thees
and
thous
. Mrs. Reed hugged her, forcing ClaireLee's eyes shut.
My teacher smells of cocoa, red lipstick.

“How's your family doing?” Mrs. Reed let go of ClaireLee. “Your mother?”

Grabbing a braid, ClaireLee twirled it around a finger.
I don't want to fib, but
—

The bell rang, and Mrs. Reed stood to meet the students at the door.

ClaireLee opened the top of her desk and nestled the Bible inside.
School will be good today, if Belinda doesn't tell anyone about Mama.
If she told, the day would be a catastrophe.

A
t first bell
, ClaireLee followed Belinda to the tetherball court. The gift of the Bible cheered her, but she still worried by lunchtime the whole school would know about Mama.
This is our family's private business.

Nibbling on a nail, she stood next to Belinda in the tetherball line. She waited for Belinda to pause in her discourse of how she enjoyed the weekend.
I'll make her swear to keep quiet about Mama.

Behind ClaireLee, Kaye's voice interfered with her concerns. “If you win the next game, Monteiro, you better understand I'm real good.”

She scrunched her face at Kaye and said, “We'll see.”
What a brat.
Why do I want to run the other way every time she opens her mouth?
After a few games, and when Belinda lost to ClaireLee, Kaye took her spot. “I'm ready to win, Shrimp.”

I'll show her.
ClaireLee shrugged off her jacket and flung it in the air toward Belinda, who caught it with one hand. “Step all over her, ClaireLee. Beat her.” ClaireLee bobbled her head in response, ready to beat Smarty Britches.

ClaireLee gripped the ball, pulling the rope taut. Several girls ClaireLee didn't know well waved. She stood as tall as her four-foot-eight frame allowed and dug in her toes within her patent leathers.

“Are you scared?” Kaye shouted. “Let's get this game going.”

Making a fist, ClaireLee socked the ball, and it zoomed over Kaye's head. The rope circled the pole twice, but Kaye gained control with a slam of her two fists. Kids hooted. ClaireLee leaped in the air and grunted through clenched teeth.
Pow.
A blood vessel burst in her hand—
ignore it
—and she shook off the pain.

The rope
zipped
, but Kaye's fists threw another punch. ClaireLee laced her fingers together. She made her own fist and walloped the ball back to Kaye.
Gotcha, Smarty.

Panic exploded across Kaye's face. Her mismatched hops kept her from within reach of her target.

Shouts, whistles sounded throughout the playground. The ball tagged the pole for a win. ClaireLee raised her arms in the air. “Yea.”

When Kaye had stumbled on her last skip and hop, she fell hard on her knees.

Snagging the ball, ClaireLee stopped it before its unwind down. She stood over Kaye. “Are you”—she inhaled—“hurt?”

Face shriveling like an old mushroom, Kaye grabbed her injured leg. “I'm bleeding.”

ClaireLee let go of the ball and removed a tissue from her skirt pocket. “Let's see.”

As she reached to dab at Kaye's knee, Kaye pushed ClaireLee's arm. “Don't touch.”

Ignoring her, ClaireLee applied slight pressure.
What a big baby.
“It's not too bad.” She offered Kaye her hand. “I'll help you to the office. We'll get a bandage.”

“Go with her, Kaye,” Wendy called, “and I'll start another game.”

Valerie stood next to Kaye. “I'll help, ClaireLee.” The two girls waited, and Kaye locked arms around them for support. She limped on ClaireLee's side.

“Good game, little buddy.” Belinda patted ClaireLee's back.

She flinched from Kaye's weight. “Thanks.”
She called me little buddy. If Belinda's a true friend, then she won't tell what happened with Mama.

By the time they reached the outside hall, Kaye was bawling like a calf separated from its mother. Though Valerie's face became sorrowful, a giggle bubbled in ClaireLee's stomach for how silly Kaye sounded.
Tough girl? Not a chance.

In the nurse's office, Kaye sat on the couch, while Mrs. Humphrey applied the red medicine. Squeezing her eyes shut, Kaye gasped. “Ow, ow, ow.”

The nurse applied the gauze and tape. “This should do.” The bell rang and she said, “Go to class, girls.”

They walked at a turtle's pace, again, and Kaye swiped at her damp cheeks. “Thanks, ClaireLee. Valerie.”

Kaye does know how to act nice.

“Though—you seemed out to get me, Monteiro.”

Should have known better.
“No, I wasn't.”

“I heard, Kaye,” Valerie said, “you challenged her.”

“You play a tough game, ClaireLee.” Kaye's expression was now sly.

The girls crossed the classroom doorway, and Mrs. Reed stared at Kaye's knee. “What happened?”

“I fell.”

“Are you all right?”

Kaye raised her chin. “Of course.”

At her desk, ClaireLee relaxed. Not only was Kaye somewhat nicer, but no one stared at her, or asked about Mama.
I don't need to talk to Belinda after all.

Later, when the bell rang for lunch, ClaireLee snatched her lunchbox from the coat closet. Someone tapped her elbow. “You're eating with us.”

“Am I?” She followed Wendy like a puppy after a treat.

The other Lavenders joined them, and all four girls walked out the door. Each of them talked and laughed in the outside hall, right as Belinda passed. She glared at ClaireLee, and her cheeks burned with shame. “Let's invite Belinda to our table.”

On her right, Wendy and Kaye snorted like two porkies rooting through a corncrib.

“You see, Belinda's done nothing wrong.” ClaireLee swished her arms in frustration.

“You don't get it.” Wendy halted her steps.

“But, you don't know Belinda like I do.”

Wrinkling her nose, Wendy said, “I'm not inviting her anywhere near me.”

Willing to defend Belinda, ClaireLee said, “It just seems—”

Wendy cocked her hip to one side. “Mean?”

Squinting, ClaireLee prayed for everyone to get along.

“What
are
you doing, ClaireLee?” Kaye was smirking.

“I, um, am. . .” Since she was tired, she said, “I need to lie down.” As she entered the nurse's office, the Lavender Girls' voices grew animated. Then, it became quiet as they left ClaireLee behind.

On the nurse's narrow cot, ClaireLee stared at the painted clouds on the blue ceiling. She was exhausted from Mama's abnormal outburst, and her stomach rumbled like a bear in a steel trap.
Why did I follow Wendy to the cafeteria? I've hurt Belinda's feelings. But, I left the Lavender Girls, didn't I?

12

OH HAPPY DAY

W
here am I
?
ClaireLee woke with a fuzzy brain. The nurse's clock showed five minutes before the bell. She hurried to the bathroom. As she washed her hands, the door opened behind her.

Mouth first. Belinda. “Me and you,” she said, “need to have a serious discustion.”

Laughter played on ClaireLee's mouth.

Belinda raised her arms and let them fall. “I'm trying to get to the bottom of what stinks, and you act like something's funny.”

“It's just, ClaireLee cranked out a paper towel, “you mispronounced another word. It's funny, is all. Not in a mean, ha-ha, but a ‘you make me chuckle' kind of way.'”

Puckering her bottom lip, she said, “Don't go and get me off track, ClaireLee Monteiro.”

“Okay.” ClaireLee stiffened.

“You ignored me as we were going to lunch today, and after I stayed at your place and whatnot. I held your baby brother, for Pete's sake, and helped Lolly when she got upset over your ma.”

She met Belinda's eyes head-on. “I know you're a true friend, and I want us to become Lavender Girls.”

Eyes wide, Belinda slapped her own forehead. “You think I'm dumb, don't ya, ClaireLee?”

“Please, don't take it wrong.” She hugged herself. “It'd be neat to belong to a club, is all. For the time I'm here.”

“You're not the only one who'd like to be accepted by them. I've been where ya wanna be. They lifted up their high-and-mighty noses.” She pointed. “All because of my scars, and I'm poor.”

Each girl stared down the other in the mirror's reflection.

“I'm sorry, Belinda. I didn't know.” ClaireLee reached the door. “We've got to get back, or Mrs. Reed will—”

“Have our hide?” Belinda's face softened.

ClaireLee bowed her head. “I do like you, Belinda Cruz.”

“Me too, ClaireLee.” She nodded. “I like you.”

Heading down the hall, ClaireLee hooked an arm at the elbow with Belinda's. Being poor worried ClaireLee, also. How could she convince the Lavender Girls to think she wasn't?

T
he same day
after the last bell, ClaireLee shivered outside in front of the double doors of the school and zipped her coat. “Liam, I want you to get a snack for everyone.” She remembered the boys' new after-school adventure. “No going to the pond. You guys are to watch over Lolly at the cabin.”

Shoving hands in his pockets, Liam sat at the bottom step with Grayson. “What're you doing now?”

Eager to leave, she longed to disappear back inside school. “Mrs. Reed needs a volunteer to clean chalkboard erasers.”
And I need a break from Mama and our cramped living quarters.

“The teacher doesn't need help.” He pointed to himself. “What about us?”

“I won't be long.”

“I mean it, ClaireLee.” He frowned. “I don't want to be at the cabin without you.”

The comment made her heart tender. “You're scared.”

“Nah.” Liam's chin lifted. “I just won't know what to do if Mama starts her crying.”

She clenched her fists in a hodgepodge of frustration for herself, sorrow for her siblings.
So, I have to give up something else.
She glanced longingly at the doors of escape before stepping down to her brothers. “Let's go to the cabin, then.”

“I guess it'll be fine.” He nodded at Pit Street. “I can always grab the kids and come get you.”

“Yeah, ClaireLee.” Grayson squeezed between his brother and sister. “We're bigger now.”

“Make sure you guys give Lolly a snack.” As an afterthought, ClaireLee gave Liam a peck on the cheek.

Grunting, he screwed his face into the Yucky Look and wiped off the kiss.

Stepping backward to her after-school job, ClaireLee waved. “Thanks, guys.”

Grayson called after her, “I won't wipe off your kiss.”

She pranced over and planted one on his cheek and pinched his nose. “You little rascal.” Inside the entryway, she leaped as though she could will herself to fly.
Freedom.

Soon enough, out by the playground, she clapped dust from the erasers. Making sure no one lurked about, she sang at the top of her voice, “When Jesus washed. . .washed my sins away . . .” For extra effect, she even spun a few times, the skirt of her plaid jumper twirling. ClaireLee sang and danced three rounds of the song before she finished the dusty chore.

Afterward, she and Mrs. Reed met at the chalkboard. “Thank you, Claire. It's messy, isn't it?”

Following the teacher's gaze, she stared at her powdery dress. “Mama's gonna be upset.” However, she pictured Mama in bed asleep and in no condition to care. She shook off those thoughts and replaced them with happier ones because of the woman standing before her. “You favor my grandmother in Oregon. It's your hair and eyes.”

Beaming, Mrs. Reed said, “Are you writing letters back and forth?”

“I should write and tell Nana about the new baby.” ClaireLee tapped her chin. “I'll even ask for her syrup and biscuit recipes, since Liam's hard to please and doesn't like mine.”

“I make those every Saturday.” She lifted out a note card from her drawer and wrote with her red pen. “I'll give you my recipes to try.”

ClaireLee's eyes widened. “Liam will be glad for something else besides gravy with my too sour biscuits.”

“Claire.” Mrs. Reed kept writing. “You may clean erasers every Friday.”

“Thank you.” She pressed her lips and then said, “I'll try to always come.”

Fastening an approving stare at ClaireLee, Mrs. Reed said, “Good enough.”

Back to listing the ingredients, Mrs. Reed wrote, while ClaireLee peeked over her shoulder. As Mrs. Reed was checking over her words, ClaireLee said, “Mama used to make biscuits and syrup.”

“Used to?”

“She sleeps a lot now.”

Eyes flickering with what seemed to ClaireLee like concern, Mrs. Reed gave ClaireLee the note card, and she clutched it to her chest.
Oh, for heaven's sake, why did I say this?
“I better go.” She hurried out the door before her teacher could ask another question.

A
s ClaireLee approached
Holcomb's Market, Wendy and Kaye walked down the market steps with candy bars. ClaireLee waved and Kaye said, “Where'd you come from?”

“Class.”

Tearing off her wrapper, Wendy's bar was covered in nuts. “Whatever for? Did you get into trouble?”

Spreading her skirt to show off the remains of chalk dust, ClaireLee said, “I cleaned erasers for Mrs. Reed.”

Kaye chuckled. “Teacher's pet.”

Here she goes, again.
ClaireLee shrugged. “I'm just helping.”

Wendy stopped chewing. “Helping
is
a teacher's pet.”

Unsure of what to say, ClaireLee fiddled with her braid.
I can never let my guard down with these girls.

“Better watch it.” Wendy squinted. “Kids will believe you're getting special treatment from Mrs. Reed.”


Are
you getting favors?” Kaye bit off a hunk of candy.

“Because I'm cleaning erasers?” ClaireLee's skin pricked. “How silly.”

“Why are you doing it, then?” Wendy nibbled on her candy.

Her heart walloped against her ribs. She hadn't figured on the Lavender Girls snooping around for answers. All she wanted was to avoid Mama, the kids, and more work at the cabin. “Mrs. Reed asked me to help.” The lie slid from her mouth as easily as a snake on a tree.
Well, I need to protect Mama's problem, don't I?

Passing by them, ClaireLee swung open Holcomb's creaky door. The screen slammed shut, and her knees wobbled.
Macaroni and cheese. Think macaroni and cheese.

Having to weave in and out of the aisles, she stopped in frustration. Where did he keep the macaroni? ClaireLee reached for the shelf.
Aha.
Rising on tippy toes, she hooked the edge of the package with a finger. It fell into her cupped hands.

Nearby, in a darkened corner, a rustling sounded. A head of brown hair ducked behind a line of wooden crates. ClaireLee tiptoed closer to the stack of soda pops. She craned her neck and peered into the narrow space. “Are you hiding?”

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