The Middle Moffat (18 page)

She wondered where Joey and Rufus were. Maybe they would go with her. At this moment, Rufus staggered out of the backyard with two huge squares of corrugated paper tied to his shoes.

"Just like snowshoes," he muttered, climbing over the embankment of snow at the side of the walk.

"Rufus," said Jane. "Where are you goin' to look at the eclipse?"

"Me and Joey are goin' to look through Wallie Bangs's telescope."

"Oh..." Jane was impressed. Like the scientists. She was disappointed, though, because she wanted someone to go with her to Gooseneck Point.

Well, here was Sylvie coming out of the house with a piece of smoked glass in her hand. Maybe she would go with Janey. But no.

"Our science teacher is taking our class up on the roof of the high school. We're going to look through his telescope," said Sylvie.

"Oh..." said Jane. More telescopes. She didn't want to be bothered with telescopes and such paraphernalia. These things did not last long, these eclipses. You had to look fast. Anybody might miss the eclipse while they were getting their eyes used to looking through a telescope. Once, Mrs. Stokes had taken her and Nancy to see the great dancer Pavlova. Mrs. Stokes let Jane look through her little pearl opera glasses. But by the time she got her eyes adjusted to see anything, Pavlova had left the stage. Furthermore, Jane saw that what she had thought were real pine trees was nothing but painted cardboard. Better without glasses.

Well, it was lucky she had a best friend. Perhaps Nancy would go with her. Jane went into the house to fix her rubbers and shoes before going on the long walk. Thank goodness, the hole in her rubbers was in the heel and the hole in her shoes was in the toe. The snow would have a harder time working into her stockings than if the holes were in the same spot. She warmed her hands over the kitchen fire.

Joe was smoking pieces of glass to look through. Jane carefully took two of these and then she went into the dining room to kiss Mama good-bye. She felt as though she were starting on a long trip.

"Don't get too cold," Mama said, pinching her cheeks and pulling her collar tight around her neck.

"No," said Jane. "Good-bye." And she ran through the kitchen waving a good-bye to Joey, too.

"Where are you goin'?" Joe asked.

"To the eclipse!" Jane yelled, and ran out the door.

She looked at the sky. The sun was still round and whole. She hoped Nancy would go with her. But she hoped that if she did they would not see any stray dogs on the way. Then, instead of going to the eclipse, they would probably have to come home, bathe and feed the dog. They would miss the eclipse, the way they had the geyser in front of the oldest inhabitant's house.

"Do you want to go to Gooseneck Point to see the eclipse?" she asked Nancy.

Nancy was delighted. "Sure," she said. "And there might be a blizzard, and we might get lost in it."

Adventure! That's what Nancy liked. She and Jane picked their way through the snow. Nancy had her arctics on.

"Step in my footsteps," she told Jane. "So you won't get snow in your shoes."

If only we don't meet any dogs, prayed Jane. Or horses. Nancy always spent a great deal of time stroking a horse's nose and examining him critically to see that he was well fed and well treated. Jane kept her eyes open for horses and dogs. If she saw one, she pointed at a cloud in the sky to divert Nancy's attention.

They hurried down the street. Wherever the snow was cleared away Janey made Nancy run.

"Hey," remonstrated Nancy. "After all, we can really see this eclipse from anywhere."

This was true, but Jane's heart was set on Gooseneck Point. This was the very best place to look at this eclipse, she was sure. Maybe there would be a lot of other people there. Maybe some of the scientists from across the world would be gathered there. That wouldn't surprise Jane one bit. She glanced at the sun. It was still the same sun. Nothing was happening yet.

They turned in to Second Avenue. A bright yellow trolley came along.

"How are those people on the trolley goin' to see the eclipse?" asked Jane.

"Perhaps the motorman will stop the trolley for a while so they can all take a look," suggested Nancy.

"I'm afraid they'll all miss it," said Jane. "These motormen have to be a certain place by a certain time. Of course, if he hurries and gets ahead of schedule, maybe he can stop for a few minutes," she decided.

But goodness! There was a little dog across the street.

"Hey!" shouted Jane. "There's a cloud up there. Do you think it will spoil the eclipse?"

"Of course not," said Nancy. "It's miles from the sun."

The cloud got them safely past that dog. Jane breathed a sigh of relief.

"Another thing is this," said Jane. "The sun and the snow are so bright I see spots and circles in front of my eyes. We might get snowblind and think the eclipse has come, and all the while the darkness will really be our snowblindedness..."

Nancy burst out laughing at this. Ha-ha! That good way she laughed. Like a firecracker going off. Jane had to laugh, too. But, there! Another dog! A little brown one coming around that house! It didn't look like a stray dog to Jane, but you couldn't tell how Nancy would feel about it. All dogs, unless she knew them well, like Bosie the fireman's dog, looked stray and hungry to Nancy.

"There's another cloud," she yelled, pointing frantically at the heavens.

"Oh," said Nancy. "It's the same one. Stop worrying about clouds."

Safe again,
thought Jane. But for not long! For here, running around the corner, dragging a broken rope from his collar, came a little bedraggled poodle, running right toward them.

"Another cloud," said Jane, grabbing Nancy's arm. But clouds would not help her now. Nancy had seen the dog. Naturally she could not help seeing this dog since it was running right straight toward them.

"Oh, Jane," said Nancy. "The poor little thing! Lost and hungry. Come here, pup," she coaxed.

The little dog turned around and ran up the street in front of them, his tail between his legs. Nancy raced after him.

Jane felt like crying.

"He doesn't look hungry," she yelled, following her best friend. "You can't see any ribs," she added.

"He's lost and hungry," insisted Nancy. "His rope's broken. Maybe he was stolen and just got away. He doesn't know where he is. Nice warm bath..."

Now Jane wondered if they would ever get to the tip end of Cranbury. Or would they have to take the dog home to Nancy's house, bathe and feed it, hunt for the owner, and miss the eclipse of the sun?

Fortunately at the present moment the dog was running in the direction of Gooseneck Point. At least, so far, nothing had been lost.
If he only doesn't turn around and go the other way,
thought Jane.

Jane was a fast runner, and her feet were not weighted down with arctics as Nancy's were. So now she outstripped Nancy, running after the dog. But instead of coaxing him with, "Here, pup! Here, pup!" the way Nancy did, she kept saying, "Shoo! Shoo! Run away, puppy."

She was chasing him right down Second Avenue in the direction she wanted to go.

"Catch him! Catch him!" shouted Nancy. "Don't let the poor pup get away."

"Run! Run!" said Jane to the little dog. For she was sure this little dog was neither lost, strayed, nor stolen, but just happy to be running around loose for once. He had a well-fed look about him. Not a rib was visible.

Now they were all racing down the street toward the end of Second Avenue. There were fewer and fewer houses. And here at last, jutting out into the harbor, was Gooseneck Point! Now the only house they could see was the watchman's house at the very tip end. The going was easier here. The wind had swept away most of the soft new snow and left a hard icy crust to walk on.

And the little dog half slid and half ran right out on Gooseneck Point.

"You'd think he had decided to watch the eclipse from Gooseneck Point, too," Jane said to Nancy.

But just then Jane broke through the crusty snow. In went one leg up to the knee!

"Too bad we don't have snowshoes," she laughed, thinking of Rufus's cardboard ones.

"Don't worry. I'll catch him," said Nancy.

This is just what Jane hoped Nancy would not do. But suddenly, ahead of her, she saw Nancy sprawl on the snow, slide the way a baseball player does at the plate, and there! She had the dog's rope in her hands.

"She's caught him," moaned Jane.

She examined the sun through her smoked glass. If only the eclipse would begin now, Nancy would wait until it was over to take the dog home and bathe him. But there was no sign of the eclipse so far.

Nancy was having a hard time with this dog. He did not want to turn around and start toward town. Nancy tried to pull him back toward Second Avenue. No, he would not go. He tried to grip his paws in the crusty snow, he scrunched himself up in a little ball, and he almost slipped his head out of his collar. He wanted, apparently, to just keep on going out on Gooseneck Point. Jane's heart warmed to him. He wants to see the eclipse, too, she decided.

"This dog does not like to walk on the leash," said Nancy.

He certainly did not. He gasped and choked and snorted and would not yield an inch.

"Perhaps he wants to see the eclipse?" suggested Jane.

"What does a dog know about eclipses? Look! He's shivering. Poor little thing. He's so cold and hungry."

Jane said, "Maybe he will come for me?"

She took the rope and she started walking. But she did not try to persuade the dog to walk nicely back toward Second Avenue. She kept going right out on the point. The little dog did not seem to mind in the least going in this direction. In fact, his tail wagged happily.

"He wants to go this way," yelled Jane.

"Well, we might as well go along with him then," said Nancy. "He'll get used to us, and after a while he will go wherever we say."

"And we can all see the eclipse," said Jane joyfully.

"Oh ... yes ... I'd almost forgotten," said Nancy.

My, it was deserted out here! And the thin curl of smoke coming out of the watchman's house only added to the loneliness. Jane and Nancy could see the watchman's footsteps frozen in a straight line in the snow to and from his house. Also the footsteps of a cat, or a dog.

"Don't you think it's funny," said Jane, "that nobody else thought of coming here to watch the eclipse except us?"

"Nobody else had the bravery," said Nancy.

"Of course," continued Jane, "you wouldn't expect scientists from Honolulu to know about this spot. But I am surprised that everybody in Cranbury isn't here."

"Just lazy, I suppose," said Nancy.

Jane and Nancy found themselves whispering. All of a sudden it seemed more quiet and still than before. It was so quiet their ears hurt, the way they did in church sometimes. Jane was certainly glad that Nancy had come with her. She would have felt too little if she were here alone. The seagulls circled about, their wings catching the glint of the sun. Suddenly they all swooped to earth and settled on the ice, all facing the same direction^ like so many Muslims at prayer. The little dog whined and shivered.