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Authors: Jean Ann Williams

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BOOK: Just Claire
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26

OH LOVE THAT WILL NOT LET ME GO

T
he day
of the open house had come, and Mrs. Reed smacked a ruler on her desk. ClaireLee jumped. “Class.” She fanned a stack of papers. “These are the reports you wrote for the contest and to display on our classroom board.” She walked around the room and passed them out. “Spend time on artwork for the front cover. Before you leave this afternoon, we'll post the reports on the bulletin board for your parents to view.”

ClaireLee slouched in her seat. Mama wouldn't come, and Daddy worked late.

Receiving her report, she placed a sheet of construction paper on the front. Stapling along the left sides, all it needed now were loggers with spikes on the soles of their boots balancing on cut logs in the Rushing River.

Later, using crayons to trace her penciled drawings, ClaireLee kept working. She colored the river scene as she saw it every time she went to the river behind her cabin. While concentrating to transfer images onto her page, someone bumped her arm. ClaireLee jerked to an upright position.

Belinda kept on walking.

The rude gesture caused ClaireLee discomfort to her upper arm. She nibbled on her lip, and Wendy twirled a finger at her head, as if saying
Belinda's strange
.

Looking back to her report, ClaireLee gasped. The color brown had smeared outside the lines with the bump to her arm. She fixed the mishap, though, by coloring a rock gray in the smudged spot. Now, the river had a large boulder, which was almost true about the Rushing River. Actually, the river's boulders were on the banks and a few stuck up only slightly within the water itself.

This was like what Mama used to say all the time.
“When you make a mistake, be creative and make it a planned happening.”
Can people like Mama become stuck in a mistake? Can they be fixed as though it never was?

Churning in her gut, she had her own boulder. Would Belinda never give her a chance to explain? There could be no forgiveness for sure until ClaireLee had an opportunity to tell her side. Guilt pangs hit her chest, and she gasped. Belinda had said she was a liar.
I lied a few times, but not about my friendship to Belinda. Please, Lord, help me make this right
.

Walking back toward ClaireLee, Belinda glared. ClaireLee raised her chin.
Don't let her see you sad
. She creased her lips upward, but Belinda's own mouth snarled. Under her breath, ClaireLee said, “This didn't go well.”

Shaking her head, she added a bit more color here and there and placed the report on Mrs. Reed's desk. Crossing her fingers, she hoped to at least place in the contest.

T
he Lavender Girls
met after school and walked home together. They talked about open house. Wendy said, “I'm counting on winning the contest.”

“I didn't know the Indians settled here because of the hot springs,” Valerie said. “It sure is an interesting fact you wrote about.”

ClaireLee peered around Kaye, who walked next to her, and said, “Like hot water baths?”

“Yes, this is correct,” Wendy said. “The day Kaye and I missed school?”

“Yeah,” ClaireLee said, “I remember.”

Interrupting, Kaye said, “We went to the hot springs for research.” She laughed. “It was a blast, doing such hard, hard work.”

“We took a picnic lunch,” Wendy said, “and stayed all day.”

“I've never heard of such a place. ClaireLee raised her brows. “Sounds wonderful, and I want to go there.”

Wendy stopped walking and studied each Lavender Girl, tapping her foot.

“Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Wendy?” ClaireLee blinked, longing for a yes.

“A hot springs party.”


Whoopee
.

ClaireLee jumped into the air. “I'm ready.”

“Right now?” Valerie and Kaye said.

“Let's meet at my place in half an hour,” Wendy said. “We won't have much time because of open house, but we'll make the most of it.”

ClaireLee frowned. “It's only two hours before we have to get ready for tonight, though.”

“So,” Kaye said, “are you in or out?”

Over her shoulder, as she ran to the cabin, ClaireLee said, “I'll be at your place in fifteen minutes.”
I hope, anyway.

After checking to see if Mama and the littler kids were still napping, ClaireLee gave orders to the boys. “I'm going to Wendy's, so you guys stay here and help out if Lolly or Feather wakes before I get back.”

“Here you go, again.” Liam scrunched his face. “You getting to go places, and we're stuck here in this dump.”

She pulled out her clothes box and found a pair of shorts and a shirt. Shoving the box back under the bed, she said, “I'm the oldest and do much more work than you. I'm taking a break, and there's nothing you can do about it.” She hurried to the bathroom to change.

Pumping her legs on the gravel driveway, ClaireLee had been belting out a tune. “I cannot close my heart to Thee. . .” As she sang the hymn, she sprinted across Pit Street and over onto Wendy and Kaye's road. Creating her own song, she sang, “A new experience for me today. Thank You, Lord, I'm happy as can be.”

The Lavender Girls waited on the lawn for ClaireLee and Kaye said, “Good timing.” She shoved a bag into ClaireLee's hands. “Here, take this.”

The bag weighed down her arms. “What's in here?” ClaireLee unrolled the sack, and five glass bottles of root beer lay on the bottom. “Yum.”

“Come on,” Wendy said, “the way to the springs is behind our houses.”

“How far is it?” Valerie said.

Wendy shifted the second sack of goodies to her other hand and tucked strands of golden hair behind her ear. “I'd say a ten-minute walk.”

Skipping a few steps, ClaireLee could hardly wait, but the bottles clinked and she was afraid she would break them.

“Right here is the path to the springs.” Wendy led their group off the road.

The trail wound beneath tall firs and majestic red madrone trees. ClaireLee touched the smooth bark of one madrone. “Oh, so beautiful.” Her eyes traced the growth of the branches to the top, where it reached the sky with long arms. She stopped as the other Lavenders kept walking. “Lord, You made these gorgeous trees.”

Kaye, a few feet in front of her, hollered, “Who are you talking to?”

Ignoring her, ClaireLee hurried on ahead to where a pool spread out nestled within a formation of rocks and boulders. Still holding the sack of soda pops, laughter bubbled in her chest.

How did she know we were coming?

27

THE SOLID ROCK


A
re
ya Lavender Girls claiming a water hole, too?” Belinda stretched against the rocks, hands behind her head. The water came up to her neck with the steam rising all around her. She wore her school-issued swimsuit, and her hair sat on her head like the shape of a yellow donut. More like a challenge, Belinda chuckled. “Did ya bring me a snack? 'Cause, thank Heavens, I'm sure gettin' hungry.”

The Lavender Girls stood together, shoulder to shoulder. ClaireLee sensed her own emotions rising, similar to the steam coming off of Belinda's skin. But, what her feelings were right then, she couldn't figure. Glad? Concerned? Amused? All of those.

“Well?” Belinda opened out her palms. “Ya don't have much time before open house, so get on in. There's plenty of room for a mineral bath party.”

“This is for ClaireLee, our new Lavender Girl.” Wendy stared at Belinda for a long moment. “So, we'll keep with our plan to soak in the springs.”

Joy flooded through ClaireLee for Wendy's special attention to her. Though, she was sad Belinda and she were no longer friends.

“Yeah.” Kaye dropped the beach towels on a rock. “We'll go on the other side.”

Valerie and ClaireLee glanced at each other, and this is when an idea formed.
Maybe this is the day I get us all together
. Trying not to stare at Belinda, ClaireLee dipped her toe in the almost-hot water.

Wendy, already in, said, “It's warm, isn't it?”

Waist deep, ClaireLee sighed. “Ahhh, this is making my skin tingle.”

The Lavender Girls stayed on their side of the pool, ignoring Belinda. All except ClaireLee, who inched her way to the middle, talking the whole time. “Your report is going to be a winner, Wendy. I wonder if anyone else will write about this place.”

“I don't think many people know about the springs.” Wendy cupped hands under and poured water on her chest.

“Uh, don't mean to contrarick, but all the locals do.”

“You mean contradict.” ClaireLee chuckled.

Gawking at ClaireLee, Belinda's eyes narrowed for a long nerve-racking moment. And then, her face softened. “Yeah.”

Staying in a squatting position, ClaireLee walked toward Belinda through the water up to her neck. “Why didn't you tell me about this place?”

Belinda shrugged. “Guess I took it for granted, me being raised here and all.”

Her back to the Lavender Girls, ClaireLee waded closer to Belinda. “I like water, and hot tub water is the best.” She closed her eyes and put her head under.
If I open my eyes, will they sting
?

Someone's muffled yell, “Traitor.”

Keeping her eyes squinted shut, ClaireLee resurfaced. She blinked at Belinda and mouthed in a whisper, “Watch this.” Then, facing the Lavender Girls, she wiped water from her face.

“Answer the question, ClaireLee.” Kaye climbed out. “Are you a Lavender Girl, or this”—she pointed a polished fingernail at Belinda—“hillbilly's friend?”

Valerie gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. Wendy's face became as blank as a bare wall, but Belinda smirked.

Tension crawled along ClaireLee's spine, and she gritted her teeth. Getting control of her temper, she said, “All I wanted was for us five to be friends.” She pointed at Belinda. “You didn't give me half a chance to explain.”

Lashes fluttering, Belinda's smirk fell like droplets in the water.

Hurrying to their belongings, Kaye jerked a towel off the pile and wiped the moisture from her swimsuit. “This party is over.” While everyone stared, she stomped down the narrow path. Her ankle waggled on a cluster of rocks, and she balanced herself and limped out of sight.

“I'll say this for you.” Wendy clicked her tongue. “You're bold, ClaireLee.”

This is going to work.
ClaireLee was glad. For this time Wendy didn't side with Kaye where Belinda was concerned.

ClaireLee was mistaken, though.

“Classy girls don't allow white trash into their clubs.” Rising from the water, streams ran off Wendy's body. “You must decide, Claire.” She pointed to the bags of drinks and snacks. “I'll leave these, and you two can have your own party.” She waded through the pool, grabbed a towel, and followed Kaye with well-trained and princess-like grace.

“What to do now?” Valerie pulled ClaireLee's attention from Wendy.

ClaireLee shrugged. “I think she expects you to follow.” She thought about the time and said, “I better get back, anyway. I've got to fix supper before getting ready for open house.” She dipped her hair backward into the water and came back up, her heart stinging from Wendy's rejection.

“They're never gonna change, ya know.” Belinda swished in the water near where Valerie still sat.

“I don't know what to say.” ClaireLee reached the bank's edge. “Except, I don't understand why we have to choose sides.” Tears threatened.

Unsure how she fit in the complicated world of girls, a song rose in her heart—one she heard days ago for the first time.
“But wholly lean on Jesus's name. . .”

Before leaving, she said, “This isn't the way we do things in Oregon.”

28

ONLY BELIEVE

I
n the evening
at open house, Belinda called out, “Here, Grandma, this is my book report.”

ClaireLee sat cross-legged on the floor next to her brothers, where they read books taken from her classroom bookshelf. She sighed.
I'm tired of the Lavender Girls and Belinda uproar
.

“Oh, what a good job ya did, Lindy,” Grandma Neecy said, “we'll stick it on the icebox at home.”

Standing behind them, Mrs. Reed said, “What a good idea, Neecy.”

Grandma Neecy shook Mrs. Reed's hand. “Hello there, Bernice, how are ya?”

“Please call me Mrs. Reed around the children.”

The older woman winked. “Please call me Grandma Neecy, Mrs. Reed.”

Slanting her neck, she chuckled. “Certainly.”

Grandma Neecy walked over to ClaireLee and pulled her up by the hand. “Now, darlin'. Show off your stuff.” She nudged her toward the board. “C'mon, don't be shy.” ClaireLee pointed to her artwork, telling about log river driving on the Rushing River. “Ya got this perfect.” The older woman patted ClaireLee's back. “My husband was a log driver as a young buck right here in these woods.”

All the while Grandma Neecy talked, ClaireLee just knew Belinda was watching.

“Okay, students and parents.” Mrs. Reed clapped. “Principal Langley wants everyone in the cafeteria.”

Walking to the door, Grandma Neecy led the way out of the room. Belinda followed ClaireLee and her brothers to the food line, where they filled plates with cookies and glasses with lemonade.

Before he even sat down, Liam gnawed on a saucer-sized peanut butter cookie. “I've never seen this many goodies.”

Grayson piled five cookies on his plate, and ClaireLee replaced two to the platter. He stared at ClaireLee. “Aw, I wanted those.”

“Don't act like a pig.” She narrowed her brows for extra affect.

He slouched. “Okay.” Then, he jerked his head and snorted, “Oink, oink.”

She waved at him, but couldn't help but chuckle.

The small group settled onto the cafeteria benches. ClaireLee craned her neck to find the Lavender Girls. They sat together three rows from the stage.

Right as ClaireLee retrieved a cookie off her plate, three figures crossed the cafeteria doorway. Her heart nearly leaped through her skin. ClaireLee's mama scanned the crowd. She had with her the littler kids, and Laddie dog sat at attention by her side.

Feather lay cradled in a shawl against Mama's chest. She clutched Lolly's hand, and Lolly's lips quivered, probably from cold. A nightgown hung below Mama's knee-length bathrobe, and the muddied hem hit the tops of her winter boots.

This can't be happening.
ClaireLee ducked her chin to her chest, hoping Mama wouldn't find her.

Calling her name, Mama walked toward ClaireLee. With her mouth lopsided, she waved at ClaireLee. “Hi, kids. At the cabin, I wondered why I didn't go when I did want to come and see your schoolwork, so I got the babies bundled and off we went down the road. There are lots of puddles, but with Lolly's directions we found the school.” Mama took a breath. She stared at ClaireLee, her eyes a bundle of questions.

Now, ClaireLee stiffened, unsure of what Mama would say next. She wanted to raise her hand and say, “Stop. Go home. You don't belong here.” Instead, she kept silent before her mother.

“It's cold out there.” Mama pulled the outer coat tighter over her chest. “We're here now, and I found you after I asked Big Red, who says he can't leave until the contest winners are announced. I didn't know about a contest, ClaireLee.” As if it were her fault.

The whole room hushed. . .

Except for Mama. “Who is this lady next to you, ClaireLee?”

Getting in a colossal mush, ClaireLee's insides swirled and her eyes and ears worked overtime.

Loud whispers filtered throughout the room, like the clucking of a flock of hens.

“Who's this woman?”

“Those poor children.”

“Is she wearing a nightgown?”

“Bathrobe, too.”

“Goodness gracious.”

“Stop staring, Peter James.”

In slow motion, the cafeteria doors misted and blurred. The room inflated and deflated like a balloon, making ClaireLee's eyes cross.
I'm going to be sick
.

“Is something wrong, honey?” Mama said.

The Lavender Girls knew more about her than she ever wanted them to know. Her face, already warm, grew hot as cinnamon bubble gum.

“Mrs. Monteiro,” Grandma Neecy hauled herself over to Mama. “I'm Neecy Wolf, Lindy's grandma.” She extended her hand. “Howdy do?”

The two women shook hands and Mama said, “Oh, just fine tonight, thank you.” Mama glanced at ClaireLee, again. Her tone softened. “Except, most days I'm real nervous.”

I need to find a hole and hide.

“You and the young'uns must be a bit cold.” Grandma Neecy patted the side of Lolly's cheek. “Want some cookies, darlin?” Grandma Neecy hiked her legs over the bench and sat facing them. She scooped Lolly into her arms and wrapped her inside the Mackinaw jacket. “And you're as light as a little doodlebug.”

Laddie nudged hard at ClaireLee's arm, but she ignored him.

“What's this feller's name, ClaireLee?” Grandma Neecy was pointing at her dog.

Her throat stayed clogged. Liam said, “This is king dog, Laddie, who protects us no matter what. In Oregon, he ran a bear off our trail where we were walking.” ClaireLee blinked at Liam. He blinked in return.

Grandma Neecy's eyes widened, and she bobbed her head. “There's lots of food. Lindy, get Mrs. Monteiro and Lolly plates of cookies. ClaireLee, you go get punch and a coffee to warm your mama's insides.” Grandma Neecy patted the bench. “Come sit, Mrs. Monteiro. Cream and sugar?”

“ClaireLee,” Mama said, “fix my coffee the way I like.”

Grandma Neecy sat Lolly on the other side of her. “Let me see the baby.” She held out her hands. “Oh, I just love. . .”

I'm running away. I'll go live with Nana.
ClaireLee headed toward the cafeteria door with Laddie sniffing her fur-lined boots. Belinda hooked an arm on one side of ClaireLee, and Valerie did the same on the other. They steered her smoothly as if they were square dancing toward the refreshment counter.

Raising her stubborn chin, Belinda fixed her cool blue eyes on ClaireLee. “Your mama's not herself. But ya can't do anything 'bout it, nope sir, so c'mon.”

“This is right.” Valerie squeezed ClaireLee's arm.

Belinda's perception of Mama splashed water on the flame of ClaireLee's shame. ClaireLee's stomach uncoiled while they chose cookies and poured drinks. Still, she wanted the stranger called Mama to leave the school.
She doesn't belong here.

“I don't think Wendy'll win.” ClaireLee and Valerie carried the drinks, while Belinda chatted in her ear about who might win the contest. “Do you know how many times people have written a report on the hot springs?” Whispers and stares poked at ClaireLee's back like rude fingers meant to hurt. The flame which was dying had flared.

The girls neared the table, and Grandma Neecy laughed. “I know whatcha mean. Had me a brood, don't ya know: five boys and one girl. Lost my husband four years ago and my son-in-law two.
Then,
Lindy's mama took off for Hol-lee Wood. Don't it beat all?”

“My, my.” Tears filled within Mama's lashes. “What a sad, sad story.” She took the coffee. ClaireLee released her hand, careful not to touch Mama's pale one.

Headed to her spot at the table, she squeezed in-between Valerie and Belinda. Their shoulders touched.

Mrs. Reed entered through the opened cafeteria door, chatting with a few people as she walked. She headed for ClaireLee's table. “Enjoying refreshments?” Her gaze settled on Mama.

No more questions, please
.

Mama sipped her coffee and watched the teacher. “Yes. Mrs. Wolf—uh, Grandma Neecy and I are becoming friends.”

Pursing her lips, ClaireLee prayed Mrs. Reed would ignore Mama.

“Is this your mom, Claire?” Mrs. Reed clasped her hands together.

She bit on a cookie and nodded.

Touching Mama's arm, Grandma Neecy said, “Such beautiful young'uns ya have.”

Swallowing down a lump, the jitters were getting to ClaireLee.
Mama, stay put
.

“Claire?” Mrs. Reed settled next to Grandma Neecy. “Aren't you going to introduce us?”

She squirmed, thought for a moment, and said, “This is Dotty. This is my teacher, Mrs. Reed.”

“I enjoy your daughter in my class, Dotty.” Mrs. Reed reached across Grandma Neecy with an extended hand. “It's good to meet you.”

Please, Lord, don't let Mama stand.

Mama only bent forward to receive Mrs. Reed's shake.

Sweat gathered on ClaireLee's forehead, and she wiped it away.

A
s the parents
and students lingered over their dessert, Mrs. Langley walked on stage. She spoke into a microphone. “Good evening, everyone. As you know, we've gathered for this year's History of Gallagher Springs writing contest.”

Please, Mama, behave
. ClaireLee's Mama sat still with a pleasant expression.

Mrs. Langley shuffled her papers. “Thank you for supporting your children, our future writers.” She nodded. “I'll call names from first grade to sixth for runner-ups, and then announce the grand winner.”

In anticipation, ClaireLee shifted in her seat, hoping Grayson would win for first grade.

“Would first-grader Maggie Montgomery please come forward to receive a runner-up award?” People clapped. A few whistled. Grayson stared at ClaireLee and shrugged.

Principal Langley announced four more runner-ups, and each student stood in a line next to her.
Too bad Liam's name wasn't chosen for grade three.
Her brother acted like he didn't care, drinking his lemonade and stuffing the last cookie into his mouth. ClaireLee clenched her hands underneath the table.
Mama better stay quiet.

“For the last runner-up,” Mrs. Langley cleared her throat, and her brows furrowed, “the judges had a difficult time choosing between this fine young lady and the grand-prize winner.” She extended a hand. “Miss Wendy Lavender, please come forward to receive your award.”

A hush filtered through the room. Wendy did not move. Someone in the crowd spoke, but the words were muffled by the time they reached ClaireLee. Pushing to her feet, Wendy stood, and from a side view, she was pursing her lips. She took the stage, accepted the blue ribbon, and shook hands with the principal. The room exploded in applause.

With all Wendy's schooling, she didn't win grand prize in a backwoods town she felt was beneath her. ClaireLee couldn't help feeling sorry.
What do I deserve?
Right then, the log fell from ClaireLee's eyes.
I've hurt Belinda, been ashamed of Mama, and lied
.

Mrs. Langley's voice broke through ClaireLee's confession. “This gold ribbon goes to the grand-prize winner, who is also a sixth-grader.” The room buzzed with questions. “She attends school here because her father is part of the tunnel crew. Judges feel certain she deserves this award. Her attention to detail, the art of taking nonfiction and making it read like a story, and her make-believe but lively characters pushed the judges to choose”—the principal paused—“from Oregon, Miss ClaireLee Monteiro.”

I won?
ClaireLee slapped her hands over her mouth.

Belinda nudged ClaireLee. “Go on, Claire, get your ribbon.” She leaned in close. “Ya showed them. Ya beat the Lavender Girls, glamour girl.”

Mama's lips spread wide enough to show her teeth, and ClaireLee waved at her. Nearly floating to the front of the stage, her emotions swelled. She reached Mrs. Langley and the gold ribbon. All dignity left Wendy's face as it puffed red with disgust.

Standing before Mrs. Langley, ClaireLee straightened to her full four-foot-eight height. She had never in her whole life received an award.
This is what it feels like? Recognized
.

Mrs. Langley handed over the ribbon to ClaireLee. “Congratulations, Miss Monteiro,” she said. “Would you like to tell us a little about your report?”

ClaireLee pressed the ribbon to her chest, while Mrs. Langley shortened the microphone stand. Her audience waited, and the words to a song came to her mind:
“All things are possible; only believe.”

“I”—She cleared the frog from her throat—“I wrote about the log river drivers who worked on the Rushing River. They collected logs, storing them in a pond near the cabin where I live.” Her throat went dry, but she willed herself to continue. “After the pond became full of logs, the men moved them by sleighs led by mules. They dumped the logs into the river to float them downstream to a sawmill near the riverbank.” She shrugged her shoulders. “This is about it.”

Clapping, whistling, and “way to go” filled the room, and her heart pumped faster with pleasure. She and Mama locked eyes. Clapping, Mama stood, her mismatched bedclothes in full view.

The air left her lungs, and ClaireLee's limbs froze. She wanted to begin anew and show her broken mother she loved her no matter the problems. But this. In an effort to stay calm, ClaireLee counted the stage lights above her head. After six, there were no more.

Mama stuck two fingers between her lips and whistled.

Groaning, ClaireLee waited for the crowd to calm.

Suddenly, someone yelled, “Would you sit down, lady?” Kaye Tyner was cupping her hands around her mouth as she spoke, and then pointed at Mama. “You're humiliating yourself.”

All color drained from Mama's face.

This does it.
ClaireLee made fists.

Mama stared down at Feather in Grandma Neecy's arms. Without warning, she bolted, her boots clopping across the floor, and she disappeared through the open cafeteria doors.

BOOK: Just Claire
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