Daphne's Book (11 page)

Tracy nodded and held it up for him to see. "Does it look okay?"

Mr. O'Brien took "The Nightmare Slumber Party" and flipped the pages. "Fine, it looks fine." Handing it back to Tracy, he told her and Michelle to go back to their seats.

When they were gone, he looked at "The Mysterious Disappearance of Sir Benjamin Mouse." Patting my arm, he smiled. "It looks beautiful, Jessica, really lovely. Is Daphne feeling any better?"

I nodded, ashamed to look at him. It was one thing to lie to Michelle, but Mr. O'Brien was different.

"Did you talk to her grandmother about the tutor?"

"I gave her the letter," I said uneasily.

"I hope she gets one soon. I'd hate to see a girl as intelligent as Daphne fail a grade." He smiled at me. "Next time you see Daphne, tell her I miss her and I'm looking forward to having her return to school. Maybe I'll drop by her house one afternoon and see how she's doing."

I nodded, and he moved on to another desk to check the work Tony and Scott were doing on their war story. As I put the finishing touches on my book, I hoped Mr. O'Brien wouldn't have time to drive out to Daphne's house. One look at Mrs. Woodleigh would probably send him to the Board of Education, and then Daphne and Hope would end up in an orphanage for sure.

W
EDNESDAY EVENING
I was in my room doing my math homework when the phone rang. Josh bellowed up the stairs that it was for me, so I put down my pencil and went to answer it.

To my surprise, it was Daphne. "I thought you didn't have a telephone," I said.

"I'm at the pay phone at McDonald's." Daphne's voice sounded high and worried.

"You didn't walk there, did you? Not by yourself?" I was horrified. It was dark and cold outside.

"It's not far." She paused, and I could hear a car start up and drive away. In the background, cars roared past on Route 210.

"Aren't you freezing?" I pictured the pay phone outside McDonald's with nothing around it to shelter it from the wind.

"A little." Daphne paused again, her voice uncertain. "I just wanted to talk to somebody. Hope and Grandmother are both asleep, and I got kind of lonely."

I twisted the telephone cord around my finger and tried to think of something interesting to tell her. Here she'd walked all the way to McDonald's in the dark and the cold just to talk to me, and I didn't know what to say. "We bound the books Monday," I finally blurted out, "and ours is definitely the best one in the whole class. Mr. O'Brien loves it, and he told me to tell you he misses you."

"Did he really say that?" Daphne sounded pleased.

"Yes. He sent all the books off to be judged yesterday, and he said we'll probably hear early in April."

"That's a long time from now," Daphne said. "What are you doing in English?"

"We're finishing up grammar and we're starting a unit on poetry next week. That should be a lot more interesting."

"Yes," Daphne said. "I like poetry."

"Me, too."

There was another silence. "Would you be able to come out and see me after school tomorrow?" Daphne finally asked. "I know it's a long walk, but maybe your mother could pick you up after she gets off work."

She sounded so lonely that I couldn't refuse. "Will you meet me at the mailbox?" I asked.

"Are you sure you don't mind? I don't want you to come if it's inconvenient or anything." Daphne's voice was filled with uncertainty.

"No, no, it's fine. I'd like to come," I said. "I'll bring the mice."

"Thanks, Jessica. I'll see you tomorrow." Daphne sounded happier.

After I hung up, I went to my room and looked out the window. It was almost ten o'clock, and the night looked cold and scary. I tried to imagine Daphne walking along Route 210, cars speeding past her, their headlights flashing across her face. Picturing Cook's Lane in the dark, I shivered. The very thought of being alone in the night frightened me, and I hoped that Daphne would get home safely.

 

When I left school on Thursday, the weather had turned raw and cold. The sky was heavy with dark clouds, and the wind had a damp, cutting edge that pierced my parka and chilled my bones. By the time I got to Cook's Lane, I was cold all the way through.

As I reached the top of a hill, I saw Daphne and Hope waiting for me, huddled together by the mailbox. Their parkas were the only color in the wintry landscape of brown fields and gray skies.

"Did you bring them?" Hope ran to meet me and seized my hands. "Is Baby Mouse in your pocket?"

I pulled him out and gave him to her, and she capered away, squeaking her Baby Mouse song. Daphne and I looked at each other and laughed at Hope.

"You're so silly, Hopesy-Dopesy!" Daphne ran after her sister, and tried to tickle her, but Hope squirmed away, giggling, and darted ahead of us toward the house.

"Do you want to come inside for a while?" Daphne asked. "Grandmother's asleep now. She doesn't usually wake up until four or four-thirty. I'll fix you a cup of tea."

"Are you sure she won't wake up?" While I hesitated, a gust of cold wind buffeted me. The icy edge of it took my breath away, and I decided to risk encountering Mrs. Woodleigh.

Very quietly we slipped into the house. While Daphne fixed tea, I played with one of the cats, and Hope crawled around the floor with Baby Mouse. I knew they both wanted me to enjoy myself, but it was hard to relax, knowing that Mrs. Woodleigh was upstairs. Every creak the house made sounded like her getting out of bed and coming downstairs.

"I like those ribbons in your hair." Hope leaned against me and toyed with the ribbons hanging from my barette. "They look pretty."

"Thank you, Hope." I gave her a little hug. She felt tiny, all bones, but she snuggled against me happily and walked Baby Mouse up and down my arm.

Daphne put our teacups on the table and sat down. "Did you bring me any homework?"

I pulled some sheets of paper out of my pocket and smoothed them flat. "This is our poetry assignment."

She looked at it and smiled. "That looks like fun."

"It is." I handed her another sheet. "This is math homework."

She frowned. "I hate math."

"Me, too."

Hope stirred sugar into her tea and smiled at me. "Can we go to your house after we finish our tea?" she asked me.

Daphne looked shocked. "Hope, you don't ask people things like that. And besides, you know we can't leave Grandmother here by herself."

Hope frowned. "Grandmother is a grownup, isn't she? We don't have to take care of her all the time." She twirled a long strand of hair around her finger. "Besides, I'm hungry. Maybe Jessica's mother would invite us to stay for dinner."

"We have our own dinner right here, Hope!" Daphne sounded very upset.

"Just cereal. I'm tired of cereal, Daphne. And we don't even have any milk. She fed it all to the cats." Hope got up and opened the refrigerator door. "See? There's nothing to eat."

"There's soup and tuna fish and Dinty Moore stew." Daphne's face was flushed.

"No, there's not." Hope climbed up on the counter and opened the cupboard. "One box of corn flakes, that's all. And some pickles."

"You don't have any food?" I stared at Daphne, horrified. Josh and I loved to complain to Mom that there was nothing to eat, but it was never really true. We meant there weren't any doughnuts or cookies or strawberry yogurt. But here I could see for myself there was nothing on the shelves or in the refrigerator.

"She must have fed it all to the cats." Daphne looked as if she were going to cry.

"My mother would be glad to give you dinner," I said. "When she comes to pick me up, you can just come home with us. Mom wouldn't mind a bit."

But Daphne shook her head. "We can't leave Grandmother. It upsets her too much."

"But what will you eat?"

"The cereal." Daphne shrugged. "I guess we should be glad that cats don't like cereal."

"I want a real dinner, like our mommy used to fix. I don't want cereal!" Hope started to cry. "And I don't want to live here anymore!"

Daphne scooped Hope up into her lap and tried to comfort her. "I'm sorry, Hope, but we have to stay here. We can't leave poor Grandmother all alone. Please try to understand."

"Do you have money to buy food?" I stared at Daphne, trying to understand.

"Grandmother gets Social Security checks, but she hasn't felt well enough to go to the bank to cash them. Right now all we have is what we get for the bottles and cans. I haven't got much more than a dollar."

"And soon we aren't going to have any gas or electricity," Hope said, "because she won't pay the bill. But Daddy's coming back soon, and then everything will be all right."

I looked at Daphne. "What's she talking about?"

Before Daphne could say a word, Hope continued, "Grandmother saw him in the woods yesterday, and he told her that he was coming home soon."

"Hope, I told you not to believe Grandmother. You know Daddy can't come back." Daphne shook Hope gently. "Grandmother imagined she saw Daddy. She didn't really see him."

"Grandmother wouldn't lie!" Hope's face was white, her eyes enormous. "Daddy is coming back, he has to! What will happen to us if he doesn't?"

Daphne shook her head. She was crying now. "Hope, Hope, please, everything will be all right. I can take care of us, I can do it. I won't let anything happen to you."

Just then Hope froze. "Grandmother's awake, she's getting out of bed."

All three of us looked at the ceiling. Sure enough, I could hear footsteps, slow and faltering, on the floor overhead. Jumping up from the table, I pulled on my parka. "Listen, I better leave before she comes down here. Do you all want to come with me?"

"We can't." Daphne hugged Hope, trying to keep her from running after me.

"Please come." As I fumbled with my zipper, I could hear someone walking downstairs. I didn't want to run away like a coward, but I was afraid to face Mrs. Woodleigh.

"No, we can't, Jessica." Daphne's eyes pleaded with me to understand.

"Well, good-bye, then." I hesitated, my hand on the door knob.

"Who's this?" Mrs. Woodleigh appeared in the doorway, clutching a soiled bathrobe around her thin body. "I thought I told you not to come here, girl!" She glowered at me fiercely.

"It's Jessica, our friend." Hope looked worriedly at her grandmother. "She wants us to have dinner at her house, but Daphne says we can't." Hope's lower lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears.

Mrs. Woodleigh took a tottering step toward me. "I know what you want, you can't fool me. Your father's one of those fast-talking Adelphia real estate men, isn't he? He sent you out here to soften me up so he can get my property. Well, it won't work. I won't sell. Not for any price." She shook her fist at me, inches from my nose. "Now, go on home. Get out of here!"

"Jessica's our friend!" Hope shouted. "She doesn't want our farm. She doesn't even have a father!"

"Doesn't have a father?'" Mrs. Woodleigh looked at me,
her face filled with sympathy. "Why do the fathers always go away? Is he over there in Vietnam too?"

"He's in California," I whispered.

"California?" Mrs. Woodleigh sounded confused. "Are they keeping them in California now?"

"He just lives there," I said. "He and my mother are divorced."

The old woman frowned. "I might have known. That's all Adelphia is. Divorce, alcohol, drugs, sex, crazy stuff." Sniffing loudly, she sat down at the table. "Well, where's my tea?"

Daphne grabbed a cup. "I was just going to fix it."

As she turned to the stove to check the kettle, I whispered, "I better leave now, Daphne."

"Oh no, not yet. You haven't finished your tea." Hope tugged on my arm. "And we haven't played mice. Please stay just a little longer, Jessica."

"Tea looks awful strong!" Mrs. Woodleigh scowled at the cup Daphne had set before her. "I bet it doesn't even have sugar in it." She took a sip and made a face. "When will you ever learn to do it right?" Dumping two or three heaping spoonfuls into her cup, she began drinking noisily.

"I'm going to walk partway down the driveway with Jessica," Daphne said.

"That's right. Leave me here all alone to drink my tea. What does it matter? I'll be dead and gone soon enough." Mrs. Woodleigh stared into her cup. "See my tea leaves? You don't have to be a gypsy to read them. Here's one little one all by itself. That's me. All the others are going somewhere together, leaving me all alone."

Hope bent over the cup. With one dirty little finger, she pushed the lonely tea leaf over with the rest. "Now you're with all the others, Grandmother. See?" Hope smiled at Mrs. Woodleigh.

"Humph." The old woman didn't return the smile. "Where are you going?" Her sharp tone stopped Hope as she started to follow Daphne and me out the door.

"With them," Hope said, her smile fading.

Mrs. Woodleigh's hand shot out like a claw and grabbed Hope's arm. "No, no, baby. You stay here with Grandmother. It's too cold out there for you." She drew Hope close to her. "You love your grandmother, don't you? You don't want to leave me all alone in the shadows with that crack running over my head."

Hope looked uncomfortable. "Can't I come?" she asked Daphne.

"Stay here, Hope. I'll be right back."

"You aren't going to play mice?"

"Not today," I said.

"Then here." Hope held Baby Mouse out to me. "Take him."

"You can keep him for a while, Hope. I'll get him next time." With relief, I heard Daphne open the door. I slipped out behind her, glad to escape from Mrs. Woodleigh.

"Are you sure you can't come home with me?" I asked Daphne as we walked down the driveway.

"I told you no!" She looked angry and unhappy.

"But what are you going to do? You've got to have food and electricity and heat!"

"I'll get the checks cashed. I can forge her name if I have to. And we have plenty of wood for a fire and candles for light. We can get along just fine!"

"But she's crazy!" I screamed at Daphne. The word came out without my even thinking. "She's crazy and you know it! How can you live with a crazy person?"

"Don't ever say that again!" Daphne's voice was tight and tense. "She's just old, she's not crazy." With tears running down her cheeks, Daphne glared at me. "Just go on home. I don't need you or anybody else!" Turning her back on me, she ran up the driveway toward the house.