Daphne's Book (10 page)

"Of course I do, Hope." I led her across the lot and up the road. Far ahead of us, I could see Daphne striding along.

"Daphne, Daphne!" Hope shouted and started running up the road after her. "Wait for me!"

At the sound of Hope's voice, Daphne turned around, her arms folded tightly across her chest. When we caught up with her, I could tell that she had been crying.

"What's wrong, Daphne?" Hope caught her sister's hand and stared up at her.

Daphne shook her head. "Nothing." Without looking at me, she started walking away, yanking Hope after her. "Come on, Grandmother is probably worried to death about us."

A
LTHOUGH DAPHNE
was making it very clear that she had no wish to speak to me, I tagged along behind her and Hope, trying to think of something I could say to make everything all right.

When we reached the driveway, Daphne turned around and looked at me. "Thanks for bringing me my homework and treating us to lunch." Her voice was stiff and formal, and she didn't smile.

I shrugged. "That's okay. It wasn't any trouble." I wanted to apologize for hiding in the ladies' room, I wanted to beg her not to hate me for deserting her, but I just stood there, fiddling with my glasses and feeling miserable.

"Well, Hope and I have to go home." Daphne hesitated.

"Okay." I put my glasses back on and shoved them into place on my nose. "Do you want me to bring your homework next Saturday?"

"I don't care. If you want to." Daphne gazed past me at the clouds blowing across the sky, but Hope kept staring at me as if she were trying to figure out what was going on.

"Can't Jessica come have tea with us again?" Hope looked up at Daphne.

"I think Jessica probably wants to go home," Daphne said in a low voice, still not looking at me.

Daphne started walking up the driveway toward her house. I waited for her to look back, to say something. When she didn't, I called, "Are you mad at me?"

She glanced over her shoulder. "What makes you think I'm mad at you?" Her voice was cold and unfriendly.

"Because of what I did." I looked down at the ground, ashamed to face her. "I'm sorry I went to the ladies' room," I mumbled. "It was a dumb thing to do."

When Daphne didn't answer, I raised my eyes. She was standing in the same place, her back to me.

"I said I'm sorry!" I yelled, beginning to feel annoyed. I was apologizing, wasn't I? What more did she want?

Daphne spun around then. "You just didn't want them to see you with me, did you?" Her face was full of hurt and anger, and her voice trembled.

I shook my head, but I couldn't deny it. "You don't understand, Daphne." Even to me, my voice sounded whiny.

"Oh yes, I do." She glared at me. "I hate Adelphia and I hate that school and I hate all the kids who go there. I'm never going back, never!" Her eyes filled with tears, and she tried to wipe them away with the back of her hand.

"When you get well, you're coming back, aren't you?"

She shook her head vigorously. "I'm not sick, there's nothing wrong with me at all. I lied to you about having mononucleosis." Losing the battle against her tears, Daphne buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Hope put her arms around Daphne's waist and hugged her. "Don't cry, Daphne, don't cry. Grandmother said you didn't ever have to go back to that school. Remember? She said it was a bad school."

"But Daphne," I said, "it's against the law not to go to school. You can't just stop going."

Daphne sighed. "You don't understand, Jessica. It's not just Tony and Scott and Michelle. It's more than that."

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Daphne shrugged and gazed past me at the sky. "There's no sense in telling you because there's nothing you can do. There's nothing anybody can do." She looked as if she were about to cry again, and Hope patted her arm protectively.

"It can't be that bad, Daphne," I said apprehensively.

"If I tell you what's really wrong, will you promise not to tell anybody? Not your mother, or Mr. O'Brien, or anyone?" Daphne looked at me solemnly.

I nodded. "You can trust me," I whispered, hoping she really could.

"Well," Daphne hesitated as if it were hard for her to go on. "It's my grandmother. I'm really worried about her. She's getting stranger and stranger, Jessica. I'm afraid to leave her alone."

"Why?" Daphne's pale face frightened me. "What do you think she'd do?" My mind was racing with images of madness, things I'd read about in books, scenes I'd watched on television late at night.

"You heard the things she was saying about Daddy and the house falling down. She scares Hope to death talking like that. Little kids don't know what to believe. They get so confused."

"But couldn't Hope go to kindergarten?"

"That's only half a day, Jessica." Daphne shook her head. "I can't leave Hope alone with her."

I tried to think of something to tell Daphne, some good advice, a solution to all her problems, but my mind refused to produce a single idea. "Couldn't we talk to my mother? She'd know what to do."

"No. You promised, Jessica, you promised not to tell anyone!" Daphne stared at me, her eyes begging me not to betray her.

"But you can't just stay home. Someone will find out, and you'll get in trouble. You could get taken to court or something."

"Not if everyone thinks I'm sick. Don't you understand, Jessica? If you tell your mother, Hope and I will end up in an orphanage, and they'll put Grandmother in a mental hospital." Daphne began to cry again, big sobs that shook her whole body.

"I won't tell anyone, Daphne, I promise." I patted her arm clumsily, and Hope hugged her, but she didn't stop crying for a long time.

Finally she wiped her eyes on her sleeve and blew her nose. "I'm sorry, Jessica. I didn't mean to be such a crybaby, but I'm so scared and worried." She gave me a shaky, lopsided grin and scooped Hope up into her arms. "It's okay, Hopesy. I won't cry anymore."

Hope planted a big, wet, noisy kiss on Daphne's cheek and tweaked her nose. "You be happy, Daphne, or I'll punch you."

Daphne laughed and twirled round and round with Hope on her hip. Their hair swung out, and when Daphne put Hope down, they both staggered a little, dizzy from the spinning.

"I wish I could think of some way to help," I said.

"Just bring me my homework and keep everybody convinced that I'm really sick. Don't let anybody find out about Grandmother." She looked at me earnestly. "Please?"

Still wishing I could persuade her to let Mom help, I promised Daphne I wouldn't tell anybody. "You don't hate me, too, do you?" I asked her, remembering what she'd said about Oakcrest and the kids who went there.

Daphne shook her head. "You're not like the rest of them. I thought you were at first, but I know now that you're different. You're smart, for one thing. And you write wonderful stories."

We smiled at each other, and Hope skipped around us, singing one of her Baby Mouse songs. Above our heads tall clouds, white on the top and purple on the bottom, swept across the sky, trailing their shadows over the field.

Looking down the driveway toward the house, I was startled to see Mrs. Woodleigh hobbling toward us. She was walking in and out of cloud shadows, her hair blowing in white tufts around her face like milkweed silk bursting out of its pods.

"Daphne and Hope," Mrs. Woodleigh cried when she saw us. "Where have you been?"

Before Daphne or Hope could answer, she grabbed each one by an arm and gave them a little shake. She was trembling and her voice was shrill with fright. "Don't ever go away like that again! I've been so worried. You know all the awful things that happen to young girls!"

As Daphne started to apologize, Mrs. Woodleigh noticed me. For a second she stared at me, bewildered, as if she'd never seen me before. In the sunlight, her face looked terribly old and fragile, deeply etched with wrinkles and quivering with anger.

"It's you again, is it?" She stepped closer and waved a clenched fist at me. "You go home, girl, and don't come back here again. I know your kind, leading my children away, teaching them your Adelphia ways. You're a bad girl, a bad girl! Go on, now, get off my property!"

I backed fearfully away, and Hope thrust herself between her grandmother and me. "No, no, don't make Jessica leave!"

Mrs. Woodleigh grasped Hope's shoulders. "Don't you tell me what to do!"

"Let me go, let me go! You're hurting me," Hope cried.

As Hope struggled to escape, Mrs. Woodleigh fell down on her knees and hugged Hope to her bosom. "No, baby, don't. Don't turn against me."

Daphne touched Mrs. Woodleigh on the shoulder. "Come on, Grandmother. Let's go home," she said softly.

Releasing Hope, who was now in tears, Mrs. Woodleigh got up stiffly, her face full of misery. Without looking at me, she allowed Daphne to lead her away.

Not knowing what to do, I watched the three of them walk down the driveway. When they reached a curve, Daphne looked back and waved, and Hope called, "Come back soon, Jessica!"

As I walked slowly home, I asked myself again and again what I could do to help Daphne. Confused and unhappy, I paused on the footbridge near our house. If there were only someone I could talk to, someone who would know exactly what to do.

Below the bridge, the creek gurgled over stones, swirling and frothing, carrying little twigs and bits of trash along with it. Glancing at the place on the bank where Daphne and I had built a little shelter for the mice, I saw that someone or something had wrecked it. The twig roof was scattered and the stone walls were broken. Reaching deeply into my pocket, I caressed the three mice. I was glad they hadn't been in the shelter when it was destroyed.

The sun set slowly behind our townhouses and the air lost its warmth as I trudged slowly up the hill toward home. When I opened the front door, I heard Mom and Ed laughing in the kitchen. They were working on dinner together, chopping up peppers and onions and making silly jokes like a couple of teenagers. Luckily they were more interested in each other than they were in me. It wouldn't have taken much attention from Mom to make me break down and tell her everything. I wanted to talk to her so badly, but I had to keep my promise. I'd let Daphne down too many times already.

 

Sunday dragged by in a gray mist of rain, and I kept myself busy working on a book report for English and studying for a science test. By the time I went to bed, I had convinced myself that I was getting sick and would not have to go to school on Monday.

Unfortunately it was a lot harder to convince Mom that I was sick. Like it or not, I had to go to school, and that meant I had to face Michelle and Tracy.

To postpone seeing them as long as possible, I dawdled over my breakfast and then walked to school as slowly as possible. When I got to the playground, I knew I was late. There wasn't a person in sight, and all the buses were gone. For a minute I was very upset because I knew I'd have to go to the office for a pass, but then I realized that I'd saved myself from meeting anyone in the hall. Nobody would be waiting by my locker to tease me about McDonald's.

By avoiding making eye contact with anyone, I got through the first two periods without any problems, but my luck ran out in English. Mr. O'Brien had gone over our stories and drawings and decided that most of us were ready to bind our books.

Since Daphne, of course, wasn't in school, I had to do ours all by myself. All around me, I could hear the other kids laughing and talking as they worked. Never had I felt so lonely.

It was almost a relief when I saw Michelle and Tracy walking toward me. For a few minutes they stood without speaking, one on either side of me, watching me bind the book. Michelle was so close to me that I could smell the bubble gum she was chewing.

I tried to pretend I didn't see them, but Michelle finally popped her gum so loudly that I jumped.

"Been to McDonald's lately?" Michelle's voice had an icy edge.

I shook my head and tried to concentrate on my book.

"What were you doing in there? Spying on us?"

I stared at Michelle, genuinely surprised. "Why would I spy on you?"

She shrugged. "Maybe you wanted to find out what Tracy and me were doing with Tony and Scott." She stared back at me from under purple eyelids.

I shook my head. "I wasn't spying, honestly."

"But you were with Daffy, weren't you?" Michelle persisted.

I pressed my book carefully into its cover. Without looking at her, I nodded.

"Are you getting to be friends with her?" Tracy asked.

"She's not so bad, you know," I mumbled. "Really, when you get to know her, she's pretty nice." But I didn't look at either one of them.

"Daffy?" Michelle snorted.

I could feel my face getting redder and redder, and I shoved my glasses back onto the bridge of
my
nose.

Michelle leaned closer to me. "She's not really sick, is she? I mean not physically. She looked perfectly healthy to me."

"I think she's just hooking school," Tracy added. "Her little sister said she was too smart to go. That sounds like hooking to me."

"She has mononucleosis," I said, "and it takes a long time to get over it. Hope was just confused."

At this, Michelle burst out laughing. "Daffy has mono? Are you kidding?"

"What's so funny about that?" I stared at Michelle, puzzled.

"You know how you get it, don't you?" Michelle continued to laugh.

When I didn't say anything, Michelle shook her head and rolled her eyes at Tracy. "You get it from kissing," she said. "It's called the kissing disease. Who would kiss Daffy?"

"That's not true. You get it from drinking out of the same glass, not from kissing!" I glared at Michelle.

But she and Tracy just laughed. "Maybe she kissed Donald Duck!" Michelle almost swallowed her gum cackling at her own joke.

As she started quacking and making kissing sounds, Mr. O'Brien walked up to us. "What's going on here?" He frowned at Michelle.

"Nothing." Michelle stopped laughing and gave me a nasty look.

"Have you two finished binding your book?" he asked.