Authors: Virginia Hamilton
“You better shut up, or I’ll hex you!” Dreenie warned.
At once, Willie stopped. Her mouth turned down.
Scaring her little sister. It served her right. Willie’s talking drove her crazy. She had Willie believing she could put a magic spell on her.
“Here’s something you don’t know,” Willie said, getting her courage back. “The word
hexagram.
It’s a six-sided star the Pennsylvania Dutch painted on their barns. You know why? To ward off bad vibes. But now it’s just decoration. Sometimes called a hex sign.”
“Will you quit?” Dreenie yelled. “I do not care to hear it!”
Willie thought she was so smart. She turned out dictionary stuff without even looking it up. Just from memory.
“I’m going to tell. You’re being mean to me again.” Willie began to whine. “Mommy’ll give you kitchen duty for a week.”
Just once, Willie had gotten the nerve to tell on her. Dreenie did get extra kitchen duty for a week. So then Dreenie had held her breath so long, her eyes bugged out and her face turned purple. Scared Willie half to death. But that was the only time.
There were kids in school who could take a million deep breaths and then fall to the floor. But to do that, you had to have friends there to catch you, ease you down. And Dreenie was still new in school. She didn’t have a lot of friends. Well, maybe she had one. And she knew that any minute her so-called new best friend might catch up with them. Dreenie braced herself.
Y
OU COULD HEAR
T
ULI
coming a block away. Singing. Sounded like, “Chica-chica, chica-chica, boom-may, bahm-ba!” Over and over. Coming at Dreenie’s back.
“Chica-chica-chica!” Screams, and Tuli, Tuli-sound, in the midst of all the street noise, cars, trucks, and horns.” Mira, ho-ney, I eh-saw you looking at you-know-who! You better
be
-have yourself, or I’ll tell your mah-me!” Herself a holiday decoration, laughing and getting the boys to look at her.
Some kids didn’t like her. They thought she was making fun of the Spanish kids. And Tuli liked to act older, too.
Most of the girls liked her hair—brown with lighter streaks, long over her shoulders and bright in the dull day. Just the springiest curls, and she swung them from side to side as she walked, for all to see. They were like her own private jingle bells.
Tulifoolie. A year and a half older than Dreenie but in the same fifth grade.
Tuli never stopped jumping, shoving, hugging, running, talking. And most of the kids enjoyed her bopping sillies.
“Chica-chica, chica-chica, I see you, Joey! Oh, you got a girlfren’! A little chica-chica-dee tole me. Don’t you lie!”
And Tuli screaming, screaming, chased by Joey as he yelled, “Girl, I’m goin’ get you good!”
“Tuli, you better quit it!” someone’d yelled. Tuli this and Tuli that, up and down the avenue— Dreenie could hear them close behind her now.
“Tuli! Where’d you get the ankle boots, Tuli?”
“Ho-ney, I got frens, I got my ways—y mucho mas, splendido, girlfren’!” Chica-chica-chica. Eleven years old, but acting like a teenager.
Dreenie and Willie were at the intersection. “Watch out, Willie,” Dreenie warned her sister. “There might be ice under the slush.” But Dreenie never got a chance to tell Willie to watch out for Tuli.
“Hooo!” Tuli was there. “I’m right wit you, chiquita, Willie! WILL-EEE!” Tuli slid by them. “HEY … !” She was yelling at the top of her lungs, “HELP, WILL—I AM GO … ING!” And she went sailing off the curb into the crosswalk.
Tuli hit the slush below the curb with both feet. She made a big splash all over Dreenie’s coat. Unable to move, Dreenie stood there, looking down at the mess Tuli had made. She felt the wet slide down her coat and onto her tights.
Seconds later, Tuli slipped, and her feet flew out from under her. “Ahhhh!” she cried out. “Ohhhh, my tailbone!” She lay flat on her back in the middle of the intersection. Her books were still clutched in her arms. A few loose papers sailed through the icy air and settled down on top of her.
“Oh, girl! Tuli!” Dreenie cried. She and Willie ran to her.
Tuli stared up at the bleak, after-school sky.
Trying to figure if she should cry or show off,
Dreenie thought.
“Get up, girl,” Dreenie said. “Come on, are you hurt? We’ll go to my house.”
Tuli grinned. She loved going to Dreenie’s house.
She must not’ve been hurt,
Dreenie thought.
“You look very comfortable there, darlin’. You taking a rest?” It was a crossing-guard woman, walking over to them.
Sheepishly, Tuli grinned.
“Come on, Tuli, shoot!” Dreenie said.
“Young lady, the light is going to change any minute. If you’re okay, get up,” the guard told Tuli. She glanced at the light, gave Tuli the once-over.
“I think I’m okay,” Tuli said easily, getting up. And to Dreenie, “I coulda been hurt. You don’t care! I was looking for you guys up ahead, an’en, there you were!” She was steady on her feet now. “I’m all wet,” she said, looking into Dreenie’s eyes.
Now I’ll have to take care of her, too,
Dreenie was thinking. “Come on,” she said. “Take your books. I’m not carrying them.”
“Okay,” Tuli said. She looked all disheveled but happy.
“Wow, Tuli, that was a good one!” Willie said.
“Gracias, for inviting me over,” Tuli said shyly, to Willie. “Thanks, Dreenie.”
Not exactly inviting you,
Dreenie thought, but she didn’t say it. “Come on,” she told Tuli. “You hold on to Willie for a while.”
“Ain’t nobody needs to hold on to me!” Willie said. But she liked Tuli. Tuli was older and paid attention to her.
“Come on, chiquita, you don’t want to fall like me, eh? Bueno, then. Hold on to my arm, I’ll hold my books.”
They went home that way, with Dreenie just ahead of them, glancing back often and telling them to be careful.
“Hokay, ho-ney, we take care. Cuidado!”
“Tuli, shut up,” Dreenie said. Thinking,
It does sound like she’s making fun of Spanish people. Why can’t she be herself?
They turned off of Amsterdam, going west on the street where Dreenie’s family lived. Dreenie’s building didn’t have anything fancy, like a uniformed doorman. It had Mr. Palmer, who stood at the door from the time school was out to 10:00
P.M.,
when the grown-ups were home. Sometimes Mr. Palmer opened the door for people if they had groceries or were older.
The building had double outer doors and a large space before the inner locked doors. Dreenie had her key, always on a cord around her neck. Willie had an extra one in a plastic envelope taped to the inside bottom of her lunch box. In case Dreenie’s got lost somehow. It never had.
Mr. Palmer watched as Dreenie unlocked the door.
“Whyn’t he ever open it for yous?” Tuli muttered.
“We’re supposed to open it with our own keys,” Willie said.
Dreenie said nothing.
Mr. Palmer held the door open for them once she’d unlocked it. “Student ladies,” he said.
“Hi, Mr. Palmer,” both Dreenie and Willie said. They felt the warmth from the radiators and were happy to be inside.
Tuli was looking around at everything in the lobby, the way she always did. When they were in the elevator, she said, “Can’t get over it. They put that little Christmas tree and lights and stuff right on that pretty table. And with pretty presents all under the tree? And nobody takes nothing? Ho-ney, hush!”
“Those packages are just for decoration,” Dreenie told her. “They’re empty boxes.”
They went up to the third floor. Dreenie had her key ready. At number 3F, she unlocked the door and let them in. Once inside, she led them to the room she shared with Willie.
“So nice!”Tuli said to them. “You get to have your own room.” Tuli always said this when she came to Dreenie’s apartment.
Someday, to have her very own room by herself, and in their own house, was another one of Dreenie’s most secret wishes.
“Take off those wet clothes before you sit, Tuli. You can leave on your sweater,”-Dreenie said. “I’ll put them in the dryer so you can wear them home.” She took out some pajama bottoms for Tuli to wear.
“I can put my things in the dryer,” Tuli said.
“Just … entertain Willie.”
“Yeah!” said Willie. “Entertain me with some food!”
“I can make her something,” Tuli called. Dreenie knew Tuli would love to get into the things in the kitchen.
“What can I have to eat?” Willie whined. “I’m starving, Drain!”
“Don’t call me that! You wait,” Dreenie hollered back, on her way to the dryer. “I’ll get to you in a minute.”
“Me, too?” Tuli called.
Sometimes the two of them made her sick. “In a minute!” she called.
I’m only ten,
Dreenie thought.
She went to a hall closet where they had a built-in washer and dryer stacked one above the other. She put Tuli’s clothes in the dryer and took off her coat. She did nothing about the damp tights she had on. They would dry on her.
Next, in the kitchen, she found potato chips.
Good,
she thought.
That’ll make ’em happy for a minute.
She made chocolate milk and heated it. And made sandwiches. Poured the milk into glasses. Put napkins under her arm and carried a bag of chips in her left hand. Called for Tuli. “Get the hot chocolate I made for you guys.”
Tuli ran to the kitchen to get it.
“Sit on the floor,” Dreenie told them, back in her room. “And be careful, don’t spill anything.” They listened to her and were careful. No smart-mouth from Willie, either. “Chocolate, I love it!” Willie said. “Umm, umm, umm.”
Dreenie got herself some orange juice. She sat back down on the space they’d made for her. Tuli was on one side of her and Willie on the other. She let herself melt down in comfort. Eased her shoulders into a comfortable sag.
Just the three of them. Silence and calm were streaming through the windows into them. And now she could take a first deep breath.
Dreenie saw when Tuli’s face relaxed into quiet. She didn’t have to cover up anything with the sillies. What was it? Being lonely? No mom at home?
Covering up how she feels with noise and
chica-chica-ing
all the time?
Dreenie tried to never let herself think unhappy thoughts. She held herself in. But it was kind of hard coming home each day to an empty place. All day, not knowing what was going on with your mom or dad. And it was hard to go to a new school. Tuli had been the first kid to be nice to Dreenie, to become her friend.
Noises of the day, buses, cars, people, seeped into the room.
Sounds of my city,
Dreenie thought. She loved New York. Every kid she knew loved New York. It scared them sometimes. But now, in their slow time of enjoying a snack, the city sounds didn’t upset them.
Tuli watched, doing exactly as Dreenie and Willie did. Take a bite. Put the sandwich down. Wipe your mouth. Take a sip of hot chocolate.
How many times had she brought Tuli home with her?
Not for any special thing,
Dreenie thought,
but because Tuli didn’t want to go to her own home.
Dreenie was pretty sure Tuli had “staged” her slide into the slush. She probably hadn’t meant to fall down. Still, she’d done what Dreenie and her mom called a “Tuligram.” It was a message telling them that Tuli needed to be someplace, with somebody in a normal life for a little while.
“Am I staying for supper?” Tuli asked, finally.
Willie knew to be quiet.
“No, Tuli,” Dreenie said. “Your granmom Gilla will be looking for you.”
Sometimes they let Tuli stay. But today, Dreenie didn’t feel like it.
“I can call her. She’ll want me to stay.”
“She’ll want you home before dark. And anyway … you know how soon it gets dark now,” Dreenie said. “Winter.”
“But I promised Willie I’d read to her,” Tuli pleaded. She looked at Willie, didn’t dare look at Dreenie. Willie kept her eyes on the potato chips.
“Tuli …” Dreenie began, and stopped. She knew it was Willie who read to Tuli. Willie could read a lot better than even Dreenie could. Willie never stumbled over words or was stumped by them as Tuli was. Tuli would take up the book and start out. But then, all eager, Willie would take the book out of her hands. “You can read for fifteen, twenty minutes, but then you have to go.”
“Call my granmom—”
“Take it or leave it, Tuli,” Dreenie said. “And I’m not being mean. I’m really not.”
Maybe I am,
she thought. She sighed and finished her food. Then she carried the plates and glasses into the kitchen. Dreenie stood a moment at the sink, cleaning up. She could hear Willie and Tuli in the bedroom, laughing about something.
I’d love to have some girl as a friend. Not like Tuli. But a girl I could talk things over with. Do special things with,
Dreenie thought. Having Tuli around was like having a slower Willie. Yet she was Dreenie’s only close friend. And why?
I
NEVER KNOW WHEN
she’s going to be there in class. When she is, she’ll move her chair to a study table or by the teacher.
I figure some days she’s friendlier than others. Some kids say she’s not feeling well. Other kids don’t seem to care about her.
Jamal tried to snatch her hat. Bluish made this bad noise in her throat. I thought she was choking. She vomited. It smelled bad! In class, in front of everybody. Ms. Baker took Bluish out and went to get a custodian. The kids went: E-ew! E-ew!
Me and Tuli and Max the aide put paper towels over it. Made me feel sick.
When Ms. Baker was gone, the kids got raucous. When they get rowdy they listen to me telling them to quit it, even though I haven’t been in school that long—because I’m the biggest girl. Mommy says it’s not my size, but that I have the way of a leader. So I told all of them to shut up and sit down. And most did!
“Who needs a vomiting kid in class?” Dassan said.
I said, “Shut up, Dassan.”
“Girl, you can’t tell me what to do,” he said.
“She just did!” Jamal said. Everybody laughed. I think Jamal likes me. E-ew!! But this is not about me. It’s about Bluish.