Dancing Through the Snow (14 page)

14

“M
Y MOTHER’S COMING BACK TOMORROW,”
Toby grumbled on New Year’s morning. “She reminded me, on the phone, that school is about to start up again.”

Min had forgotten about school. It had been almost two weeks since she had gone to Mrs. Willis’s office with Enid Bangs. And so much had happened in the meantime. She had a totally new life. Must she ruin it with school?

“Sybil asked me if you want to stay in the school you’ve been attending,” Jess said. “But I have a feeling you might like to make a fresh start there too. Am I right?”

Min gaped at her. How had Jess guessed how miserable she was at school? Then it dawned on her that she had never spoken of any girls, that she had never phoned anyone or asked to have a friend over. She supposed it hadn’t been all that hard for a smart woman to figure out.

Up till he moved, Laird had always been the one who started the name-calling, but there were others who had followed his lead.

“The Throwaway Stray,” Dawn Rushton had sneered once. “Why would we want
her
on our team?”

Most of the others had ignored this. They had ignored Min too. As a rule, they had behaved as though she were invisible or as though she were in the way.

Once Mrs. Willis had asked her about friends and, when Min growled that she had none and didn’t want any anyway, she had said, “Most people make friends with people who look friendly. Could you be holding them at arm’s length? Have you tried smiling?”

Min had been infuriated. She remembered the week last October, when a new girl had moved into the neighbourhood. Min had liked the look of her. For one thing, she had had a longish braid that began on the crown of her head and dangled down her back. Meredith, her name was. And she had come from England. But before Min had had a chance to get to know her, the others had guided her away and whispered Min’s shameful history. At least, Min supposed that was what they were whispering about. Afterwards, Meredith had hung out with Beth and Asmira.

Who cares? Min said to her bruised self. She had not lost Meredith’s friendship, because she had never had it. She had just hoped. Once or twice, during November, she had caught Meredith looking at her, and once she thought she had even seen her smile, but Min had closed that door out of loneliness and was not about to risk trying to open it again.

“What school would I go to?” she asked, looking into the bright flames in the gas fireplace.

“Victory is closest,” Jess said calmly. “It’s at the far end of the park. It’s an old school. I went there myself for a couple of years when I was a child.”

Min’s head jerked up. But she managed to keep her voice level and a bit bored. “That sounds okay,” she said.

“I have a surprise for you. I’m going to be going to school myself,” Jess announced. “I had decided to take some time off, not long before I brought you home. I was toying with the idea of starting on a new career. That might have been part of what freed me to act on impulse that day in Sybil’s office. I’ve applied to take a couple of courses to complete my certification as a family therapist. I almost finished it last year, but I still need two more courses. I’ll be attending classes at the university until the end of the spring term. Then I’ll be able to work during the day and be home with you during the evenings. Perfect, wouldn’t you say?”

Min laughed at her. “I’ll help you with your homework,” she said.

“I intend to practise everything I learn on you,” Jess said.

The night before school began again, Jess knocked at Min’s bedroom door.

“Come in,” Min called, holding onto Cassie, who was cavorting around on the bed and in danger of tumbling over the edge.

“How would you like a new name to use at your new school?” Jess asked, smiling. “On several of your school reports, teachers call you Minerva or Minna. I know you hate Minerva, and Minna doesn’t sound like you either. Look here for a moment.”

Min stared at her, bewildered but curious. Jess held out several books.

“These belonged to my mother,” she said. “My adopted mother, that is. They were written by an American writer called Jessamyn West. One of them I think you’d enjoy now. It’s about a teenage girl called Cress Delahanty. It’ll sound old-fashioned to you, maybe, but I liked it enough to read it several times. But it’s her name I want you to think about.”

“Cress?” Min echoed, mystified.

“No, Jessamyn. When I was young, I wished I had been named Jessamyn instead of Jessica,” Jess said. “I liked the sound of it. Then the other day it came to me that it’s a combination of our two names, Jess and Min — Jessamyn. If you claimed that your given name was Jessamyn instead of Minerva, you could still be Min and nobody would call you those names that rile you so. If anyone did, you could just set them straight: ‘I’m not Minerva; I’m Jessamyn.’”

“Jessamyn,” Min repeated, trying to take in what on earth Jess was suggesting. “Jessamyn.”

A new name. A name to use at school. Min sighed. Never again to be called Minerva. Or Minnie!

It was such an unexpected idea that it took time to get her brain to absorb it. Jess did not keep talking. She simply waited for Min to consider the idea, to sound it out and decide for herself.

“Jessamyn,” Min whispered at last, her eyes lifting and beginning to sparkle.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come up with it sooner,” Jess said. “But I happened to see the books just before supper, and the notion came.”

“I like it,” Min said. “Would it be all right if I tried it? It isn’t against the law or something?”

Jess laughed aloud. “No law I know of,” she said. “And if you decide you want to keep the name for life, once you’ve given it a fair trial, we could actually make it legal.”

After she went out, Min murmured her new name over and over into Cassie’s soft ear. She loved its sound and, even more, she loved the way it linked her with Jess.

The following morning, the two of them got ready to walk to Min’s new school. Jess had Min’s records with her — report cards and test results and all. She had shown them to Min at breakfast.

Instinctively, Min had averted her eyes from the teachers’ comments. “How …?” she started to ask.

“Sybil had copies. They were in your file. I got her to hand them over when I went to see her last week.”

Then Min made up her mind to face what had been said about her. Jess had told her once that she had guts. Well, she’d prove her right. She swallowed and scanned the remarks. Almost every one made her wince.

Minerva lacks self-esteem and refuses to participate in class.

Minerva needs to learn how to work with others.

Minna has poor communication skills and is insolent at times; make an effort, Minerva.

Min is a stubborn child not interested in learning. Her tragic past is no excuse for her insolence. Mend your manners, Min.

Min seems withdrawn and I believe therapy is indicated.

Although her test scores show Minna to be intelligent, her behaviour reveals scant evidence of this. Perhaps she should be retested.

Minna, you must try harder or you will end up dropping out before you finish high school. Think this over. Join in more and leave that sullen look at home.

Min seems to find school irrelevant.

That last was the Gym teacher. If she had not insisted on calling her Minna, no matter how often Min corrected her, Min would not have given her the look that they all called “insolent” and “sulky.”

There were lots of
U
s for Unsatisfactory.

But there was her Art mark.
A
-plus. Nobody seemed to see it except Jess, who now pointed her finger at it.

“I’d like to see some more of your art,” she said. “In case you’re wondering where my Christmas tree picture is, it’s at Wyndham Arts getting framed. Don’t worry unduly about this stuff. They don’t know the Min I know — and I think things will improve fast.”

Framed! Min had fixed her eyes on the toes of her shoes and tried not to blush with pleasure.

The two of them entered the front office side by side.

“This is my foster daughter, Jessamyn Randall,” Jess told the principal, Mrs. Wellington. She said it so smoothly Min almost missed it. “She likes to be called Min for short.”

“Jessamyn?” Mrs. Wellington said. “I haven’t come across that name before. It’s attractive.”

“Isn’t it,” Jess replied without a blink. “It matches the girl who bears it.”

The principal studied Min. “I see that it does,” she said quietly.

To her surprise, Min warmed to Mrs. Wellington right away.

Jess rose then. She squeezed Min’s shoulder.

“I’ll leave her in your capable hands. See you later, Min.”

When she was gone, the principal looked around for someone to take Min to her new homeroom: Ms Spinelli, Grade Six.

“It’s a split Five/Six,” Mrs. Wellington said. “Oh, there’s Penelope! Penny, would you please take Min with you and show her where Ms Spinelli’s room is. You’ll be in the same class.”

“Sure,” the girl said.

They walked down the hall together. When they reached the foot of the stairs leading up to the second floor where the classroom waited for them, they stopped and studied each other.

Penelope was brown-skinned and small. Her black hair was long and curled up at the ends. Her dark eyes were friendly. Her flashing smile looked as though she meant it. “Did she say your name was Minerva?”

“No,” Min said, fighting to keep her new smile in place. “She said Min. It’s short for Jessamyn.” She waited for a reaction.

“Nice,” Penny said. “I’ll call you Min unless you make the mistake of calling me Penn-elope.”

Min relaxed. She laughed. “I won’t,” she said and they began to climb the stairs.

Ms Spinelli was surprised to learn she had another girl in her class, but she was pleasant about it. “Do you go by Jessamyn or just Jess?” she asked.

Min almost changed herself into Jessamyn then and there, but she realized in time that she might not remember. So much else was new that day. “I’m Min,” she said simply.

“Very good, Min,” the teacher said. “There’s an empty desk in the second row. Try it out for size this morning. We can make a final decision later. Penny’s desk is right across the aisle.”

Min turned to see how Penny felt about this and found that her smile had widened into a happy grin.

“Follow me, kid,” she said and led the way.

Ms Spinelli went back to writing something on the chalkboard.

“Where were you before Christmas?” Penny asked.

“Paisley School. But I’m living on Glasgow Street now.”

“Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“No,” Min said, looking down at the ballpoint she was getting out of her pencil case. “But I have a nine-week-old Pekingese puppy named Cassie.”

“Wow!” Penny said, looking impressed. “I have two big brothers and three little sisters. My mother says we can have pets when we can look after them. We did have a hedgehog, but he escaped and got lost in the basement. When my little sister found him, Mum made us give him to our cousins. They’re more organized.”

“Was he nice?” Min wanted to know. She’d never known anyone with a pet hedgehog.

“My sisters thought so, but I wasn’t all that keen, to be honest. He had really sharp quills and he hissed. I was scared of him — although I never admitted it.”

Min laughed out loud and Penny chuckled.

Then Mrs. Wellington’s voice boomed, “Good morning, students,” over the loudspeaker and they all stood up for the national anthem.

While they sang, Min glanced back at the class. Some of them were staring back. Then she saw, through the open door, a boy running past. Laird Bentham!

Min stiffened. What was
he
doing here? She knew his family had moved, but surely he couldn’t be going to Victory now. Min had thought it was her lucky day when he’d left Paisley School.

“What’s the matter?” Penny whispered.

Min hesitated. Then she asked, “Does that Laird Bentham go to this school?”

“Yeah, worse luck,” Penny answered, rolling her eyes. “He started coming here in November. He’s in the other Grade Six and he’s bad news.”

“Tell me about it,” Min muttered, opening her binder.

“Min, please come up and get a math book and a copy of the novel we are studying. Penny, I believe you have work to do …”

“Yes, ma’am,” Penny said, ducking her head down over her book and snatching up a pencil.

Once everyone had settled and Ms Spinelli had introduced Min, she said quietly, “I am sure you have all been deeply shocked about the devastation caused by the tsunami. I thought perhaps, if we all put our minds to work on it, we could come up with some way our class could raise some money to send to help the people. We should consider carefully. We would want to do our best. Everyone think hard and we’ll brainstorm about it tomorrow morning. We’ll begin by collecting everyone’s ideas, so be sure to come prepared.”

Min was glad the teacher was thinking of the people who were suffering, but she was uneasy at the thought of doing something to make money. She could not come up with anything she was good at. She liked drawing and had always gotten her best marks in Art, but that was not something to sell.