I and Sproggy (11 page)

“You stop that, you just stop that!” Janice the Grub shrieked. A girl with a nasty, molelike face shouted, “Pip pip and all that sort of rot, Evangelion!” and started to run away.

He'd been right. It was Sproggy, swinging her backpack, taking off after the fleeing tormentor. Just as she was about to come close enough to land another blow, Sproggy fell. Flat on the sidewalk. Adam had done that. He knew how it felt, how the wind was knocked out of you and the temptation to throw up was intense. The group left behind pulled themselves together, adjusted their clothing, and made no effort to help Sproggy. They stood, pointing at her.

“Serves her right,” Adam heard one of them say. “Nasty thing. Why doesn't she go back where she came from? What a stupid name!” They turned and walked away. The girl Sproggy had been chasing was nowhere in sight. Adam figured she was still running.

“You all right, Sproggy?” he said, putting out his hand to her. Her nose was running, her face wet with tears. She closed her eyes for a minute, shook her head, taking deep breaths. Adam put his hands behind his back and looked away from her, giving her a chance to pull herself together. “If you want, I'll give you a hand up,” he said.

She sat up and rubbed her knee. “I shall be quite all right in a moment,” she said, “but I don't have a handkerchief.” She wiped her nose on her sleeve. Adam fumbled in his pockets. He found a necktie he'd stuffed in his pants weeks ago. He handed it to her, and she blew her nose as best she could on the slippery red and yellow striped tie. “Thank you,” she said. “I'll ask Mummy to wash it out and return it.”

“Oh, that's O.K., I don't need it,” Adam replied. “You O.K.?” he asked. He thought, this must be the first time in her life she's ever been trounced. And humiliated.

“I thought she was my friend,” Sproggy said, sniffing. “Then she found out my name was Evangeline and she told them and they started to make fun of me. How can I help it if my name's Evangeline? I don't think that's such a bad name, do you?”

Adam considered. “I never heard it before,” he said. “I never knew what your name was. I guess it's not so bad, once you get used to it. Anyway, what difference does it make?”

“A great deal,” Sproggy said, very dignified.

“I like Sproggy better,” Adam said. “Sproggy's a nice name.”

Her face brightened. “Do you really think so?” she said. “I'm so glad. Do you know that's the first time you ever said anything nice to me?” she said in astonishment.

Adam had the grace to blush. He felt ashamed. She had spoken the truth.

“Come on, let's get out of here.” Adam put out his hand again, and this time she took it and pulled herself upright.

“They didn't know I was such a good shot with my backpack,” she said. “I have very good aim.”

“Yes,” Adam said in a respectful voice, “you do.” He promised himself he'd stay out of her way, never aggravate her again.

“It was very kind of you to come to my rescue,” Sproggy said. “Thank you, Adam.”

He felt himself getting red in the face. It was the first time anyone had called him kind. “You want a Coke?” he said.

“I don't have any money,” Sproggy said.

“I meant I'd treat you,” Adam told her. “I have some money from Mr. Early for feeding Burton.”

“Oh, that would be super!” Sproggy cried. “How simply ripping!” and she slung her backpack into place on her shoulder, narrowly missing Adam's head. They walked over toward the deli on York Avenue.

“Hey, buddy,” a large, scroungy young man in blue jeans said to Adam, “got a quarter?”

Adam thought fast. “I was just going to ask you the same thing,” he said coolly. “Me and my sister here, we ain't eaten in two days.”

“No kidding?” The young man dipped into his pocket. “Hey, I can't stand seeing a couple of kids starve. Be my guest.” He handed Adam two quarters. “It's not much, but it's my whole day's take,” he said. “Things are slow this time of year.”

“Thanks,” Adam said.

Sproggy's mouth hung open. She said nothing. Zilch. Adam took long, slow, high steps. The Bionic Man off to the deli. He felt very good. She followed close behind him.

“How super! How absolutely super!” she said.

“I bet you thought that guy was a creep, didn't you?” Adam said. “And he turned out to be a nice guy.”

“You told him I was your sister.”

“Two ice-cold Cokes, please,” Adam said to the clerk.

“To go,” said Sproggy.

The clerk looked surprised. “I didn't think you were going to drink them here,” he said.

CHAPTER 16

When Adam went up to Mr. Early's Sunday morning, Burton seemed depressed. His feathers drooped, his eyes had lost their luster, and he was unusually quiet. Adam ladled out the seeds and replenished the water.

“Too bad you're missing the party today at the Mayor's house,” he said. “Everyone's going. I understand they're serving cheese and crackers and smoked parrot.”

Burton's hooded eyes regarded Adam dispassionately.

“Did you hear me?” Adam raised his voice. “I said they're having smoked parrot on the menu. What do you think of that?” Burton said nothing. “You must be coming down with something. You got a sore throat?” Adam said.

No response. What fun was that? “I'll tell you how it tasted,” Adam said. He went to the door. “I'm going now. You got one more chance to talk. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Burton opened his mouth and let out a squawk of such magnitude Adam thought it could be heard down on the street. The squawk became a laugh and Burton laughed until Adam was in the elevator. Adam fancied he could still hear it after he'd let himself into his own apartment. He took a shower and put on his new school clothes. The red sweater was his favorite. If he wore his new red sweater, Charlie could spot him outside the fence and might wave. He was looking forward to Charlie's going to this party as much as Charlie was, he imagined.

And Millie. Although he'd never met Charlie's wife Millie, he'd heard so much about her he thought he knew exactly what she looked like. She was a big woman with a warm and merry smile. She wore glasses and polka-dotted dresses. Blue polka dots. She had brown hair and smelled like chocolate chip cookies. She laughed a lot and read bits and pieces out of the newspaper to Charlie during TV commercials. That much Adam knew for a fact. Charlie had told him Millie didn't believe in wasting a minute of the day. And while the TV program was on, Millie knitted or made quilts.

“Millie is a beautiful person,” Charlie had told him more than once. Adam knew this must be so.

“Kenny called while you were gone,” his mother said. “He'll meet you in the park. At the usual bench, he said. Steve and he have some hot tips they want to talk over with you.”

“I'm not talking about financial matters on Sunday,” Adam told her. “Sunday is a day of rest. Those guys don't know when to quit. Since when do we have club meetings on Sunday, anyway?”

“You got me,” she said. “Come out to the kitchen with me so we can talk. I have a big project going. I promised Harry I'd fix osso buco for him.”

“Is that Chinese?” Adam asked.

“Nope, it's veal knuckle,” she said.

Veal knuckle? It sounded like something Mr. Early would like. Adam was so grossed out by this revelation of bizarre eating habits in his own family that he was speechless. He looked at his own knuckles. Even with a baked potato and some string beans thrown in, he knew he'd be hungry half an hour after he ate them.

“Does Sproggy know about Charlie's party?” his mother asked. “Maybe you should call her up and tell her so she won't miss the fun.”

“Sproggy knows,” he said. He hadn't told his mother about yesterday and his rescue of Sproggy. He liked keeping it to himself awhile. It felt good to be a rescuer of anyone or anything. He had never been one before. He'd tell her sooner or later. In the meantime it was all his.

“Charlie said he might bring his wife Millie over to the building before the party,” Adam said. “She's never seen where he works and she'd like to. Plus he told her about the gray lobby and she wants to see for herself. I better get downstairs so I don't miss meeting her.”

“Have a lovely time. I'd go with you if I didn't have this creature to subdue.” She stirred something in a pot and peered anxiously into its depths. “I simply cannot understand how Julia Child does it,” she said. “Imagine talking to that huge audience on TV and cooking at the same time. Absolutely amazing woman, she must be.”

When his mother got into this kind of mood, Adam knew, she didn't care whether he stuck around or not. She'd go on talking a mile a minute and stirring her veal knuckle and be perfectly happy. “So long, Mom,” he said.

She nodded in his direction, not really seeing him. “I think rice might be nice,” she was saying as he left the kitchen. “But, on the other hand …”

When Adam got to the lobby, a van had just pulled up outside. A man got out of the driver's seat, ran around to the back, opened the door, and took out a folding wheelchair. He set it on the sidewalk. Charlie got out of the van, reached in, and lifted a woman in his arms.

“Thanks, Herb,” he said. “Appreciate it more than I can say.”

“My pleasure,” Herb said and drove away.

Charlie pushed the woman slowly toward the front door. Adam opened it. “Hi,” he said.

“Millie, this here is my friend Adam,” Charlie said. “The one I been telling you about all these long years. Adam, this is my wife Millie.”

“How do you do?” Millie said, smiling at him. “I've heard so much about you I'm delighted to finally meet you.” She put out her hand and Adam took it in his as he would a very small and fragile bird that had fallen from a tree. He was afraid to shake it because it and she looked so frail he thought he might break her bones. On the contrary. Her handclasp was firm and strong. Her voice was rich and hearty and full of life. She sounded just like the woman Adam had pictured in his mind. Underneath her long skirt, he could see her tiny feet dangling from ankles so thin they couldn't possibly have supported her. When she smiled, she showed pointy little teeth, like a child's. Her smile was merry. That much had turned out right, at least. On either side of her mouth was a deep groove, an exaggerated dimple that must have come from years of smiling.

Adam thought he might be able to see through her if the light was right.

I wonder why Charlie didn't tell me about Millie, Adam thought. Probably because she's so happy, such a beautiful person, that Charlie forgets.

As if a silent signal had gone out over the tops of the buildings, saying, “He's here! Charlie's here!” a group of kids, including Steve and Kenny, began to assemble. They milled around, waiting for some action, pretending they didn't know something special was going on.

“Hey!” Charlie said. “It looks like Old Home Week around here.” He pushed Millie into the lobby. Adam held open the door and scowled at the rabble on the sidewalk. “Take it easy,” he told them. “Don't push, let them breathe.” He felt like an usher at Radio City Music Hall, holding back the crowd.

“It's lovely,” Millie exclaimed, “such a restful color. I like everything the same color. Very stylish.”

“Didn't I tell you?” Charlie said, smiling, his hand on her shoulder. “Like a blinking British pea souper, right?”

The crowd pressed into the lobby. “Everyone, meet my wife Millie!” Charlie called out. “There's more kids in this neighborhood than in any other of the five boroughs, I guess,” Charlie said. “They come out of the woodwork.

“And here's the little limey!” Charlie cried as Sproggy appeared.

She was wearing a dress. “Mummy said I had to,” she explained to Adam.

“Millie, this here's the little girl from the other side I was telling you about,” Charlie said.

“How jolly to meet you,” Sproggy said. “When I told Mummy about you being invited to a party at the Mayor's house for educators, she said my Uncle Dickie might be there, too, as he's president of a university in Sussex and should be in New York about this time. You might keep an eye out for him, Charlie. His name's Richard Champion. He's frightfully distinguished looking.”

“So's Charlie,” Adam said. Everybody stood back and admired Charlie's appearance. He wore a black-and-white checked jacket and a yellow shirt with a red tie. “Isn't he handsome?” Millie said.

“You both are,” Adam said, touching upon a streak of gallantry he hadn't known he possessed. Sometimes he surprised himself. Yesterday he'd been kind, today gallant. Who knew what tomorrow might hold?

Charlie kept looking anxiously at his watch. “We don't want to be late,” he said. “That would be terrible.”

“On the other hand,” Millie said, “we don't want to be early either. That would be worse.”

“She's got a point,” Charlie agreed. “I'm going to push you real slow so you can get a good look at everything.” He turned to the crowd. “She doesn't get a chance to see the sights too often, right, Mil?”

“I don't want to miss a thing,” Millie said. “And when I get home tonight, I'm going to write it all down so I won't forget one single detail.”

“That's what I do,” Sproggy chimed in. “I write in my journal every single night. That way I don't leave out anything. It's very easy to forget when you have so many things happening all at once. That's what I find. I daresay it's the same with you.” She and Millie smiled at each other. “Ever since I've come to America, so much has happened to me.”

“I hope it's all been good,” Millie said.

Sproggy shook her head. “Not all,” she said. “Mostly it's been good. But not all.”