Lizabeth's Story

“I
can't wait to show you my new dress!” Lizabeth Merchant said. It was all she could do to keep from clapping her hands with pleasure. “The dressmaker just finished it yesterday.”

Kat, Amanda, Rose, and Lizabeth were walking home from school along William McKinley Road. The sidewalk wasn't wide enough for the four girls to walk side by side. Lizabeth walked backward in front of the others. Her elbow grazed the azaleas along the sidewalk.

“And wait till you see the colorâstrawberry!” Lizabeth continued.

“Strawberry?” Amanda asked. “You mean red?”

“Sort of dark pink. I'm hoping it will make the judges think of strawberries. So then they'll automatically picture me as the Strawberry Queen.”

“If you really want to look like a strawberry,” Kat said, “you should wear a pointed green cap.”

Kat's grin was contagious and Lizabeth laughed in spite of herself. “Oh, stop!”

“Anyway, Lizabeth, you're allergic to strawberries,” Kat said.

The trouble with cousins, Lizabeth thought, was that they knew all about you, even your allergies. But why did Kat have to remind her of her hives! “I wasn't planning to
eat
them,” Lizabeth said.

“They might expect the queen to have at least a bite of strawberry shortcake, don't you think?” Amanda said.

“Remember last year?” Lizabeth asked. “The beauty event was in the evening, much later than the rest of the Strawberry Festival. The afternoon in the churchyard was separate. That's when they had the strawberry shortcake, strawberries and creamâ”

“Strawberry-and-rhubarb pie,” Kat interrupted. “Yum!”

“I
know
they gave the queen some strawberries right after the crowning,” Amanda said. “To make the point, I guess.”

“What point?”

“That strawberries are good.”

“Oh.” Lizabeth frowned. “I suppose I could
pretend
to eat them. Andâ¦and then drop them in my handker
chief!” If there would be no way around it, she thought, she'd have to swallow one or two. The hives wouldn't show up until later, and being Strawberry Queen was worth a little itching. Well, even a
lot
of itching.

“What beauty event?” Rose looked confused. “Why are we talking about strawberries?”

“Oh, you don't know about the Strawberry Festival, do you?” Lizabeth said. Rose Forbes had just moved to Cape Light in March and they still had to explain many of the town's traditions to her. “It's always in May. Anyone over thirteen from Cape Light or Cranberry can compete for Strawberry Queen. And I turned thirteen in January, so it's my first chance. May nineteenth, 1906! Only eleven days away!”

“Rose, I can't believe you've lived here for only two months,” Kat said. “It feels like we've all been friends forever and ever.”

Rose gave a quick, pleased smile. The smile lit up Rose's face and made her close to beautiful, Lizabeth thought, but she wasn't serious competition for Strawberry Queen. Rose had that striking coloringâblue-black hair and ivory skinâbut she was too thin and tall, and not very graceful. Except on horseback. She was always coming or going from her uncle Ned's stables,
with bits of hay stuck to her clothes or in her hair.

“Strawberry Festival is about celebrating Cape Light's bumper crop of strawberries,” Amanda explained.

Rose smiled. “And I bet the town of Cranberry gets a bumper crop ofâ
cranberries
!”

Kat nodded. “The cranberry bogs were there long before the high school and the town hall were built.”

“Anyway, all the women bring their best strawberry dishes and sell them,” Amanda continued. “The profits go to needy families. It's fun and it's for a good cause.”

Lizabeth studied Amanda. Her eyelashes were throwing long shadows on her cheeks. They were
unbelievably
long! Amanda's hair was ordinary light brown, while Lizabeth had lovely blond curls. And Amanda's complexion was pale, not peaches-and-cream like Lizabeth's. But Amanda had perfect, delicate features. Many people said she was the prettiest girl in Cape Light.

“Umâ¦Amanda? Are you entering the Strawberry Queen event?” Lizabeth asked.

“Me? Oh, no,” Amanda said.

Whew, Lizabeth thought, that's a relief! But then, almost against her will, she said, “You ought to. You'd probably win.”

Amanda shook her head. “Father wouldn't like it.”

“You worry too much,” Lizabeth said. She was sure Reverend Morgan didn't disapprove of nearly as many things as Amanda feared. He was friends with Rose's parents, even though her mother was a
suffragette
.

Amanda shrugged. “I wouldn't be comfortable.”

“How about you, Rose?” Lizabeth asked.

Rose shook her head. “I'm not that brave.”

Maybe Rose knows she doesn't have a chance at Strawberry Queen, Lizabeth thought.

“How about you, Kat?” Lizabeth askedâthough Kat had freckles to go with her flyaway auburn hair. She had a pretty, lively face, but she didn't take care of herself. She went out in the sun and didn't give a hoot for using a parasol!

Kat shrugged. “I don't think so.”

“But the Strawberry Queen gets to ride in the mayor's carriage for the Fourth of July parade and everyone cheers her!”

“Sorry, it all sounds silly to me.” Kat smiled. “You've got a clear field, Lizabeth. We'll all go to see you win.”

Lizabeth bit her lip. “Do you really think I have a chance?”

“You can win over any girl in Cape Light.” Kat laughed. “Especially if you look like a strawberry!”

Hmm, Lizabeth thought, but what about the Cranberry girls? “That Cranberry girl won last year. Claire Piedmont. She
is
awfully pretty butâ” Lizabeth lowered her voice “âeveryone knows she's
fast
.”

“How do you know?” Amanda asked. “You shouldn't say that about anyone.”

“You always like to think the best of everyone, but it was all over town. She was seen coming from the Potters' barn with my brother, Christopher.”

“That doesn't mean anything,” Rose said.

“Yes it does,” Lizabeth said. “I hate to talk about my own brother, but Chris is getting a reputation for being wild. He courted Dorothy Lane for about ten minutes last year and then Claire Piedmont. Well, that wasn't even
courting
. And he's supposed to be apprenticing at the bank with my father after school, but no one can ever find him.”

“Just because Chris doesn't like the bank, that doesn't make him wild,” Rose said. Two pink spots had appeared on her cheeks. “And those girlsâ¦that was last year, wasn't it? When he was still fourteen and not serious about anything.”

Lizabeth stared at Rose. She hardly knew Chris, so what was that all about?

“Anyway, I don't think Claire Piedmont can win
twice, do you?” Lizabeth said. “Let's see, today's the eighth. I have my matching ribbon and my shoes all ready. I guess I'm all set except for my last-minute beauty secrets.”

“Wait a minute! Is it already the eighth?” Kat said. “Oh no! MY report is due tomorrow! Why did Miss Cotter have to give us a big assignment at the very end of the term?”

“Native cultures is an interesting topic,” Lizabeth said. “But it's just when we think we're through with school,” Amanda said.

“School in Cape Light finishes so early,” Rose said. “In New York it went on to the end of June.”

“A lot of our classmates have to help with the spring chores. Farmwork and getting the fishing boats shipshape,” Kat explained.

“My report is due tomorrow, too,” Lizabeth said. “It's almost done. I ordered a book about the Aborigines of Australia from the Pelican Book Shop and it came in last week. I didn't think there'd even be one!”

Kat sighed. “All I know about Eskimos is what I found in the school encyclopedia: one paragraph.”

“I'm supposed to do Pygmies and I found exactly
one sentence in the encyclopedia. All I know is they're short,” Amanda complained. “Well, my report isn't due until Friday.”

“Gosh, I wish I had thoughtâ¦I'm sorry,” Lizabeth said. “I could have ordered books for everyone from the Pelican Book Shop. Maybe I still can.”

Lizabeth liked to help out her best friends. Kat's father was the lighthouse keeper and Amanda's father was the minister, and they couldn't afford anything extra. Rose was well-off, Lizabeth thought. Her father was the new doctor from New York City and her mother was very fashionable. Still no one in town was as rich as the Merchants.

“No, it's too late to order anything,” Kat said. “Anyway, it's our own fault. We could have gone to the library in Cranberry.”

Library books are handled by
strangers
, Lizabeth thought. And they might have just picked their noses!

Kat sighed. “We'll have to listen to five reports every day for the whole week, until everyone's had a turn. It'll be
endless
!”

“I think it'll be interesting. The Aborigines certainly are,” Lizabeth said. “They have a tradition called the walkabout. It's a challenge for boys when they come of
age. I don't know about the girlsâthe book didn't say. And grown men walkabout, too, when they're troubled.”

“What's a walkabout?” Rose asked.

“The book said it's to find your true self, but I don't really know what that means,” Lizabeth said. “You start walking all alone in the outbackâthat's a very harsh desert. You leave all your possessions behind. You don't take
anything
, not a single thing. Can you imagine?
My
true self would want an extra dress and at least a hairbrush! And some cologne would be nice if I can't take a bath for a while.”

Kat grinned. “I don't think you'll be going on a walkabout anytime soon.”

Lizabeth laughed. “No, I wouldn't think so!”

“It must be hard to survive without anything at all,” Rose said.

“The journey is supposed to go on until you meet yourself,” Lizabeth said. “It could be very long.”

“You meet yourself?” Amanda asked.

“It's meant to be spiritual, I think,” Lizabeth said. “Does it sound something like Moses or Jesus in the wilderness?”

“You could ask my father about that,” Amanda said.

Lizabeth nodded. “I think I will.”

“Lizabeth, watch out!” Kat said.

“What?”

“You're about to smash Mrs. Alveira's tulips!”

Lizabeth glanced over her shoulder. “Oops.” She just missed stepping on the bright yellow flowers. Walking backward wasn't that easy.

“I'm glad I was assigned Indians,” Rose said. “The Cherokee were brilliant at training horses. The horses were left behind by the Spanish conquistadors andâ”

Amanda laughed. “Your report is supposed to be about the Indians, not their
horses
!”

“But horses were a big part of their culture.” Rose looked around at the other girls. “Well, they were! Honest, I'm not making that up.”

Lizabeth smiled and shook her head. Rose was horse-crazy for sure. If she wasn't at Clayton Stables or riding her own horse, Midnight Star, she found some way to bring horses into whatever else she was doing.

“I thought you were going to research the local Indians. The Cape Cod Indians,” Amanda said.

“That was the Nauset tribe,” Rose said. “It was too hard to find information. They became extinct in the 1600s because of an epidemic that came here with European seamen. Anyway, it was too sad.”

“What kind of epidemic?” Lizabeth asked.

“The book said it was most probably smallpox,” Rose said. “We're lucky there's a smallpox vaccination now.”

“What's lucky about it? I think it's terrible that Massachusetts law forces everyone to get vaccinated,” Lizabeth complained. “Look. It gave me this scar.” She hated the indented mark near her shoulder. Except for that her skin was so perfectly smooth.

“It doesn't even show,” Kat said. “And you're not making sense. Smallpox left people with
awful
scars, if it didn't kill them first! Whoever invented the vaccine was a hero.”

“It was Edward Jenner. My father prays someone will discover ones for diphtheria and scarlet fever and cholera and everything else,” Rose said.

“Lizabeth, watch out,” Kat warned.

“What? More tulips?” Lizabeth said.

“It's Crazy Mary!” Amanda gasped.

Lizabeth whirled around. Crazy Mary was two steps away from her at the side of the road. Lizabeth could smell her.
Whew
! She'd almost bumped into Crazy Mary!

Kat, Amanda, and Rose crossed to the other side of the street and Lizabeth rushed after them. They made a
wide circle around the ragged woman as they continued on their way.

“Do you see what she's doing?” Rose said.

Lizabeth took a wary glance back. Crazy Mary was on her knees. Her long gray hair streamed down her back. She was grunting and pulling up the blue and white flowers at the side of the road. Her face was bunched up with fury.

“Those are the Whites' irises!” Kat stopped. “Should we say something?”

“No, don't.” Lizabeth held Kat's sleeve. “Don't talk to her.”

“Butâ” Kat started.

“Come on, she's too scary.” Lizabeth tugged at Kat. “Come on, let's keep walking.”

“Anyway, she's stopped pulling flowers,” Rose said. “Now she's scratching her backside!”

“She's looking right at us!” Lizabeth said. Crazy Mary was glaring at them. “Come on!”

“Pa says she's harmless,” Kat said.

“He can't know that for sure,” Lizabeth said. “She could attack somebody!”