Meet the Austins (14 page)
Authors: Madeleine L'engle
Mother and Daddy shake their heads about Rob; he has a big vocabulary; he plunges into words the way other people plunge into water, and no topic is too big or grownup for him to discuss, from war to sex to pollution, but he's just learned to recognize the alphabet and he's not in the least interested in learning to read, and all the rest of us could read when we were five.
Maggy's report cards are up and down. She'd been to private schools before she came to live with us, and she's ahead of her grade in some things, and behind in others. As to what she wants to do when she's grown up, she'd better marry a millionaire who can give her everything she wants.
But to get back to John. Of course the Sunday after I got measles I was still in bed, though I was beginning to feel lots better. I was still covered with a rash and looked repulsive, but I did feel like playing a game of darts with John, and light didn't bother my eyes any more, so I was working through a pile of books. I played and played Mother's records, and laughed at the funny ones and cried at the sad ones. And Saturday evening I got out of bed and went downstairs to watch a Cousteau TV special on endangered species.
Sunday morning, Mother made waffles for breakfast, and Suzy brought me up a tray with waffles and maple syrup and a cup of cocoa with a big blob of whipped cream on it, and it tasted marvelous, the first time anything had tasted really good since I had measles.
Then everybody started off for Sunday school and church and I curled up and took a little nap, and then pushed up my pillows and took a book from my pile and began to read. I was alone in the house but I had all the animals with me, so I wasn't lonely. Rochester lay on the floor by my bed, and Colette was on the foot of the bed, at my feet; Prunewhip, the splotchy colored cat, came pat-patting upstairs and jumped on the bed, too, and sat on my chest and began purring loudly and then kneading her front claws into my neck. I kept shoving her paws away, or trying to push her claws back into their soft sheaths, but she
was determined to enjoy herself in her own way, so I had to pull the blanket up over my neck and leave her to it.
was determined to enjoy herself in her own way, so I had to pull the blanket up over my neck and leave her to it.
I was deep in my book when I heard the kitchen door open and shut. I looked at my little clock that Grandfather gave me for Christmas, and it wasn't time for anybody to be home from church yet; I wondered who on earth it could be. Then I heard rather stealthy footsteps coming up the back stairs and I called out, “Who is it?”
Maggy's voice called back, “It's us,” and I wondered what kind of trouble she'd got into now, and then she and John appeared in the doorway.
What a sight!
Maggy's black hair was wild, as though it hadn't been combed or brushed for several years, and her good Sunday dress was ripped, the skirt half pulled off the waist, and had a big, jagged tear in one sleeve. And John! One of John's eyes was all swollen and puffy and there was a cut across his eyebrow and he didn't have on his glasses, and without his glasses John is half blind. His nose had been bleeding, too, and his collar was bloody and torn. It was obvious that Maggy had been crying, and I couldn't tell whether or not John had. I practically jumped out of bed, I was so startled. Colette started to bark, the high yelp she gives when she's upset. Prunewhip jumped down off the bed and swished out of the room. Rochester got up and went and stood by John and Maggy and growled, low and deep in his throat, as though to dare anybody to come near them when he was around.
John petted him, saying, “Oh, Rochester, I wish you'd been over in the churchyard half an hour ago.”
“But what on earth happened?” I demanded.
John gave a very lopsided grin. “We were in a fight.”
“Who? Why? Do Mother and Daddy know? Where are the others?”
“Hold it,” John said. “We'd better go wash before we do anything else.”
“No you don't!” I cried. “You tell me what happened first!”
John gave Maggy a funny kind of rough hug. John has never been one for hugging and kissing, so this was all the more remarkable.
“I got involved in a monstrous battle,” John said, “and Maggy was coming down from the Sunday-school room and saw me, and she lit into the boys like a hurricane and did her best to rescue me. It was a doggone good best, too. If it hadn't been for Maggy I'd have had a sight worse licking than I got.”
“But why were you getting a licking?” I asked. “Where was Dave?” I didn't think anybody'd dare pick a fight with John if Dave was around.
John gave that funny, lopsided grin again and I realized that his lip was cut and swollen, too. “Dave has measles. Come on, Mag, let's wash up.”
“No!” I shouted. “Tell me what happened.”
“I think I'd better sit down,” John said. “I feel wuzzy.” He flopped onto the rocker and closed his eyes, and his eyes without glasses were as strange-looking as the cuts and bruises on the rest of his face.
“Where are your glasses?” I asked.
“Smashed. You all right, Maggy?”
“No,” Maggy said. “I'm mad. John was fighting all by himself,
with at least a dozen boys on top of him. It wasn't fair. And I didn't have a chance to run up to the Sunday-school room to get Suzy or Rob to help. It wasn't fair. It was the meanest thing I ever saw.”
with at least a dozen boys on top of him. It wasn't fair. And I didn't have a chance to run up to the Sunday-school room to get Suzy or Rob to help. It wasn't fair. It was the meanest thing I ever saw.”
“But what happened?” I asked again.
“Okay,” John said. “Let's make it brief, Mag. Mr. Jenkins wasn't there. Nanny and Izzy said there was something wrong with the big deep freeze in their store. He came hurrying after the big battle was over, but that was too late to do me any good.”
“What does Mr. Jenkins have to do with it, anyhow?”
“Well, he is the Sunday school superintendant after all, and he always does the opening service for the Sunday school,” John said. “You know that. Added to which, Mr. Vining's away this week.”
Mr. Vining's the minister. This explained nothing. “What's all this got to do with you?”
“When it was obvious Mr. Jenkins wasn't going to get to church on time, Mr. Ulrich asked me to do it,” John said.
“To do what?”
John gave a funny sort of groan. “The opening service.”
“It wasn't fair,” Maggy protested again. “I heard Aunt Victoria telling Uncle Wallace Mr. Ulrich should never have asked it of John.”
Mr. Ulrich teaches the high-school Sunday-school class, and I guess he's sort of second in charge if Mr. Vining isn't there, because sometimes he gives the opening service.
“But he asked me,” John said. “He kind of looked around the church. He looked us all over, and his eye lit on me, and he
said, âI'm willing to bet John Austin can get up there and do the opening service for us. How about it, John?' What was I to do? There was nothing I wanted to do less, but I felt I was sort of stuck with it; if I didn't do it I'd be letting Mr. Ulrich downâand Dave, too. At first I didn't say anything, and then Mr. Ulrich said, âHow about it, John?' and I said, âOkay, Mr. Ulrich, I'll try.' And I had to get up and go to the front of the church and everybody was watching me and some of the boys were grinning, and I thought, I'll show them. So I gave the call to worship, and then had everybody sing
Holy, Holy, Holy
, to give myself time to think. Then I told one of Grandfather's stories, the one about the shoemaker who was so poor and yet he helped all those peopleâyou know the one, it goes with the part in the Bible about if you do it unto the least of these you do it unto me.”
said, âI'm willing to bet John Austin can get up there and do the opening service for us. How about it, John?' What was I to do? There was nothing I wanted to do less, but I felt I was sort of stuck with it; if I didn't do it I'd be letting Mr. Ulrich downâand Dave, too. At first I didn't say anything, and then Mr. Ulrich said, âHow about it, John?' and I said, âOkay, Mr. Ulrich, I'll try.' And I had to get up and go to the front of the church and everybody was watching me and some of the boys were grinning, and I thought, I'll show them. So I gave the call to worship, and then had everybody sing
Holy, Holy, Holy
, to give myself time to think. Then I told one of Grandfather's stories, the one about the shoemaker who was so poor and yet he helped all those peopleâyou know the one, it goes with the part in the Bible about if you do it unto the least of these you do it unto me.”
“It was a wonderful story,” Maggy said. “The girls all thought you were marvelous.”
“Yes,” John said, “that was the trouble. And I made one terrific goof.”
“What?” I asked.
“I took off my glasses.”
“But why! You know you can't see two feet in front of your nose without them.”
“That's exactly why,” John said. “I thought if I couldn't see the kids I wouldn't be so scared. I was afraid if somebody made a face at me or giggled or looked as though they thought I was a dope or something, I'd forget what I was saying and not be able to go through with it. So I took off my glasses so everybody'd look like a vague blur and I couldn't see who was who, or what
they were thinking, or anything. But a lot of them thought I was doing it to show off.”
they were thinking, or anything. But a lot of them thought I was doing it to show off.”
“But you weren'tâ”
“Of course I wasn't. But they thought I was.”
“It was those dopey girls,” Maggy explained, “giggling and carrying on and saying how dreamy he looked without his glasses.”
“I don't think anybody listened to a word I said.” John sighed, heavily. “That's almost the worst of it. Maybe some of the little kids listened to the story, but nobody else. Well, then we had the collection, and I had two of the smallest kids take it. Maybe that was being a coward, but I felt safer that way. And then I had to do the prayer.”
“What did you say?” I asked. “Did you make it up?”
“No, I was too scared. I said the St. Francis Prayer.” And he began to say it softly, as though he needed it for himself. “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is discord, union; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy. O divine master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; for it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.” He took a deep breath. “Well, then we went to our classes. But I knew trouble was coming. A couple of the kids kind of poked me and whispered things like, âYou just think you're the most beautiful boy, don't you?' And Mr. Ulrich made it worse by trying to set me up as an example to the rest
of the class and I couldn't shut him up. If Dave had been there
he'd
have shut his father up. When classes were over, the Sunday-school teachers were supposed to be meeting about something, and the minute I got outdoors the kids were waiting for me, and one of them said, âGot your glasses on now, haven't you, gorgeous? ' and I said, âYeah, what's it to you,' and he said, âTake 'em off so we can see those dreamy eyes,' and I said, âTake 'em off yourself,' and that's how it started.”
of the class and I couldn't shut him up. If Dave had been there
he'd
have shut his father up. When classes were over, the Sunday-school teachers were supposed to be meeting about something, and the minute I got outdoors the kids were waiting for me, and one of them said, âGot your glasses on now, haven't you, gorgeous? ' and I said, âYeah, what's it to you,' and he said, âTake 'em off so we can see those dreamy eyes,' and I said, âTake 'em off yourself,' and that's how it started.”
“They were cowards,” Maggy said, “all of them together and John all alone, and when his glasses got busted they knew he couldn't even see what he was doing. But he was doing okay. I came out in the middle of it, 'cause someone told me what was going on, and I was just so mad I jumped on Sammy Calahan's back and pulled his hair and then I saw somebody else's leg sticking out and I bit that. I don't know whose it was, but I bet I drew blood.”
“Kind of backhanded tactics,” John said, “but they surely helped. The others weren't fighting exactly fair, either.”
“What about Mother and Daddy?” I asked. “Do they know about it?”
“Dad brought us home,” John said.
“Did he break it up?”
“No. One of the girls ran in and got the teachers out of their meeting and they all came out and everybody kind of got off me and Maggy was fighting so hard by then she didn't even realize the fight was over till Mr. Ulrich pulled her off one of the boys. Then people started coming to church, and Mother and Daddy came up the path and saw us, and Dad brought us home, and that's all.”
Maggy gave a contented sort of sigh. “Maybe Suzy and Rob don't even know about it yet. They were in the upstairs Sunday-school room.”
“Somebody's told them by now,” I said.
John stood up. “Well, I guess I better grope my way to the bathtub. I'll take the upstairs bathroom, it's colder, and you can use the one downstairs, Mag.”
Maggy ran off, and I thought she seemed different than she had been with us. Mostly she's pulled against us, tried to be different, to have special privileges, to be a TV star, and suddenly she seemed not only more like one of us but as though she actually finally wanted to be one of us. And once again I was glad she hadn't been thrown to the lions.
John said, “Well, see you later, Vic,” and went off with Rochester thumping anxiously at his heels. I heard him bump into a chair or something, and then a moment later I heard his bathwater running. I lay in bed, stroking Colette's ear and thinking about what had happened, till John came back in, wrapped in his bath towel, and sat down in the Boston rocker again.
“I get on okay with Dave,” he said. “I thought I got on okay with the others, too.”
I wasn't sure what to say. I murmured, “Oh, John ⦔ and if I'd been Mother I could have gone to him and put my arms around him and given him some love. But I was only his kid sister, Vicky, and all I could do was lie there and look at him, his body firm and lean and still white from winter, his face all battered up, and the cut by his eye going right through one of his eyebrows. Without his glasses his eyes seemed much bigger
than usual, and they looked unhappy. His reddy-brown hair was wet, and he'd slicked it down, but a tuft of it stuck up in the back.
than usual, and they looked unhappy. His reddy-brown hair was wet, and he'd slicked it down, but a tuft of it stuck up in the back.
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