Amazing Grace (15 page)

“Rubble Trouble!” I squalled, loud enough that time for Spot to start barking.

Johnny stuck his head around the corner wanting to know what I was yelling about.

I pointed to the red line running down the middle of the floor. “Your rubble has to stay on your half of the room, or there will be trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” that little scalawag had the nerve to ask.

“Big trouble,” I said. “I'll dump your rubble outside so Spot can chew it to smithereens. Spot likes rubble, especially your rubble. And if I find it on my side of the room, you'll find out how much Spot likes it.”

“Ah!” Johnny said, but I noticed he picked up his toys and put them in a box for safekeeping.

On Monday afternoon, when I had finished folding my clothes and putting them in a drawer, Grandma did something I hadn't heard her do in days. She laughed long and loud.

“Land's sake!” she said as she looked out the window.

Johnny and I dashed over to the window where Grandma stood. Mom pedaled down the path on a bright red bicycle. We dashed out the door to meet her.

“Mr. Wilson hired me to work at his store,” Mom said as she wheeled up to the steps. “He is letting me work for the money to pay off our bill. This bicycle is yours, Grace. You worked for it. You earned it.”

My heart pounded as I touched the handlebars. I couldn't believe that bicycle was really mine. All mine. I ran my hands over the black seat, climbed on and pedaled hard. The wind whipped through my hair as I cut right to miss a rock. The bounces and bumps of the rough ride made my heart race. I felt like Christmas morning had come early this year.

I rode down the path and waved at Mom, Grandma and Johnny as I pumped harder and harder. The bike glided down the trail, carrying me faster and faster. I spun around and turned toward home. Mom and Grandma clapped when I pulled up. Johnny stared. “Your turn,” I said.

He grinned and jumped on. He made figure eights in the yard before he pedaled off around the house.

Johnny had been keeping his rubble on his side of the room the last two days. All it took was the red line and a reminder of Spot's chewing habits. I figured if he kept our bedroom halfway picked up, he could ride the bike. When it came to neatness, halfway is good for Rubble Trouble.

We rode the bike until darkness wrapped around us. I put the bicycle in Grandma's garden shed; then Johnny and I hurried into the house to get ready for bed. I asked Mom if we had a letter from Daddy today.

“Not today, maybe tomorrow,” Mom answered. “But think positive.”

Chapter 23

More Surprises

Thanksgiving Day had everybody thinking positive. Grandma asked us what we wanted for our special supper.

“Beats me,” Johnny said as he threw up his hands and snickered.

Mom laughed. “Beets it is. Grace Ann, what do you want?”

I didn't have to think twice. “Pumpkin pie.”

By the end of the meal, the turkey wasn't the only thing stuffed. I had polished off two slices of the bird, dressing, shucky beans, pickled beets and, best of all, a second piece of pumpkin pie. My mind yelled
Bodacious
! but my belly pleaded for mercy.

On Monday morning, I pulled on my pants, and they rode high—too high, above my ankles. I tugged at the hem to try to stretch them, but my pants were as stubborn as my brother. The legs refused to stretch.

When I walked into the kitchen, Mom said, “Gracie Girl, you're getting as tall as a cornstalk.”

“Where's the flood?” Johnny joked when he saw me. “You're wearing high-water britches.”

I wrinkled my nose at him. He looked at me and laughed louder.

I scurried back to our bedroom to change clothes. I tore off my pants and jumped into another pair that climbed above my ankles, but not as high. I grabbed my books and called out to that pest of a brother, “Come on, Johnny. We don't want to be late.”

“Being late wouldn't bother me,” Johnny said, always wanting the last word.

At school, Vickie sat beside me, not behind me, like last year. Sometimes we whispered when Mrs. Howard wasn't looking our way.

“Thanks for the two pumpkins.” Vickie's voice was soft as velvet. “I made two jack-o'-lanterns, and Mom made a couple of pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving.”

I looked at Vickie and smiled. “Thanks for the seeds.” At least once a day, Vickie thanked me for the pumpkins. When she thanked me, I thanked her for the seeds. I noticed that Vickie was growing taller too. She wore a different outfit this year, and she wore it every day. Her pants rode up her legs, shorter than mine, and her shirt was at least two sizes too small.

On Friday, Mrs. Howard asked us to put our pencils down and close our books. She had an announcement to make. “The annual Christmas play will be held here at the school on Christmas Eve. We have four weeks to practice, and we'll begin Monday. Our class is going to team with Miss Eversole's class to present the play.”

Miss Eversole taught second grade, Johnny's class. That meant he and I would be on stage together.

Mrs. Howard assigned all the students a part in the play. Carolyn and Vickie were shepherds, and Janie and I were angels. My heart flitted and fluttered when Mrs. Howard said the angels would wear white dresses and glide across the stage, slowly, smoothly, as if we were drifting through the air. I imagined me, an angel, on stage, drifting. I couldn't wait to tell Mom and Grandma.

On the way home, I told Johnny the good news.

“So what,” my brother said. “I'm going to be a lamb.” Every other step a
baaaaa
bawled out of that boy's mouth.

When I got home, Grandma had another surprise.

“Whose clothes are these?” I asked as I grabbed an oatmeal cookie and stuffed it in my mouth. The kitchen table looked like a mountain with pants, shirts, skirts and blouses piled high.

“They belong to anyone who can wear them,” Grandma answered. “My neighbor Adeline Young has a daughter a little older than you and a son a little older than Johnny. They outgrew the clothes, so she passed them along. Want to try them on?”

“You bet,” I said as I rummaged through the pile of plaids, flowers and stripes.

“This is way, way too big for me,” I said as I held up a green and yellow skirt with a flowery inset. “And here's a blouse that matches. Too bad; I really like this set.”

“Those belonged to Adeline,” Grandma answered. “I'll pass what we can't wear along to someone who can.”

That's when it hit me, the idea. I whispered it to Grandma. I didn't want Johnny to hear me and blab his big mouth all over the neighborhood.

Just then, Mom opened the door and walked in.

“Did we get a letter from Daddy today?” I asked.

“No, sweetie. Maybe tomorrow,” Mom answered. “Think positive.”

“We'll get a letter soon. I know it,” Grandma said. She showed Mom the clothes.

Mom fished out five shirts and five pairs of pants and tried them on Johnny. “Perfect fit, young man,” she said and ruffled his hair with her hand.

Mom turned toward me. “Let's see what we have here for you.” I tried on two skirts and five blouses. They fit and I loved them. I twirled and strutted around the kitchen, showing off the clothes for Mom and Grandma. Next, I tried on pants. Three fit exactly, and two were a tad too long so I cuffed them. I found more that were too big for me but looked to be perfect for my idea.

While I picked through all the clothes, I remembered my good news. “Mom, I'm going to be an angel in the Christmas play. Mrs. Howard said I should wear a white dress.”

“That's wonderful, Gracie Girl,” Mom said. “I can't wait to see you perform.”

“I want a fancy dress so I'll look like an angel,” I said.

Mom looked at me and pulled me in close for a hug.

“Grace, clean out all of your clothes that are too small to make room for these,” Grandma said. “I'm going to pass your old clothes on to anyone who can wear them.”

I busied myself for the next hour, trying on clothes and pitching the things that were too small. I folded each give-away piece and placed them all in a box.

On Saturday morning, Grandma left right after breakfast. When she returned, she whispered in my ear that she had carried out my idea. I could hardly wait until Monday to see if it worked.

I arrived early at school and helped Mrs. Howard clean the chalkboard erasers. When the bell rang, I hurried to my seat. Vickie walked in smiling, wearing a green and yellow skirt with a flowery inset and a matching blouse. I recognized her shoes too. Mom always wore them when she dressed up.

“Pretty skirt and blouse, Vickie,” I whispered when Mrs. Howard walked to the map and worked with two students.

“Thanks,” Vickie answered. “I like your dress too.”

All morning long, Vickie smiled, even during a test.

At recess, Vickie, Carolyn, Janie and I stood together and talked about the math test papers Mrs. Howard had handed back. Vickie scored 100 percent on the equations but missed half the reading problems. Carolyn, Janie and I did well on the reading problems but missed many of the equations.

Vickie looked at our tests and pointed out what we did wrong. “Here, let me show you how to work this,” she said. Vickie grabbed a pencil from behind her ear and showed me my mistakes. She did the same with Carolyn and then with Janie.

The bell rang. Recess was over. As we walked back into the classroom, I told Vickie I would stay with her after school for a few minutes and help her with the reading problems.

Her face crinkled into a smile as she said, “Thanks.”

When I walked into Grandma's kitchen that afternoon, Mom stood at the stove frying potatoes, or as Johnny calls them, poe-TAH-toes.

“Did we get a letter from Daddy?” I asked.

Johnny stopped in his tracks to hear the answer.

“Not today, maybe tomorrow,” Mom answered. “Remember, we have to think positive.”

Spot yelped. I changed into my play clothes and ran outside to romp with him. When Spot saw me, he grabbed a stick, ran to me and dropped it at my feet. I tossed it high and wide. Spot shot out after the stick, jumped in midair and caught it. He pranced back to me with the stick in his mouth and tail wagging.

“Good boy, Spot.” I cuddled him a whopper of a hug. To make sure he knew I was proud of him, I kissed his nose, and then we sat down for a chat. “Spot, why do you think Daddy quit writing letters?”

Spot looked at me with his big brown eyes, unblinking.

“Do you think he's hurt?”

Spot never made a whimper.

“It's not like Daddy to go five months and not write. Do you think he'll ever come home?”

Spot stared at me. I guess he didn't know the answers either.

When I went back into the house, I still had Daddy on my mind. I tried to remember how he felt when he danced me around the room. I tried to remember how he smelled when he dressed up and splashed on Old Spice. I remembered the dance, but I couldn't remember the smell of Old Spice. I walked into Mom's room. A picture of Daddy stood tall on the dresser. Beside the picture, his bottle of aftershave rested next to Mom's Evening in Paris dusting powder. I picked up the bottle of Old Spice and sniffed. Ahhhh, I remembered what Daddy smelled like. Then I snagged my bottom lip between my teeth and blinked back tears. I blinked again and wondered if…

Chapter 24

The Christmas Play

Since I couldn't talk to Daddy right there, right then, I talked to him another way—in a letter:

Dear Daddy,

I ride my bicycle up and down the paths all around Grandma's house. Johnny rides on the bar behind my seat. Saturday, we bundled up in coats, mittens and toboggans and pedaled through spitting snow to the post office. When the postmaster said we didn't have a letter, we rode over to Wilson's Grocery. I helped Mom dust the shelves, and Mr. Wilson gave me a quarter when I finished. I bought peanuts for Johnny and me and put fifteen cents in my memory box for a savings bond stamp.