Ola Shakes It Up (9 page)

t four o'clock in the morning it was pretty dark outside.

I looked around our huge backyard and shivered. It was freezing. The wind was making a soft rustling sound as it blew through the trees, and my sneakers made a squishing noise as I walked across the wet grass. It was kind of scary out here in the dark. All the lights in the house were off, and the little bit of moon that was out made everything look shadowy. I was breaking two of the neighborhood rules by being out here, but I was gonna show this neighborhood that the Bensons didn't have to follow anybody's rules but their own. For now, this house was our house and what we did in it or around it was our own business.

I reached down to pat Grady, glad that I had thought to bring him along. It made me feel better that I wasn't out here all alone. I had given Grady careful instructions to let me know if he smelled anyone or anything.

I moved toward the right side of the yard, close to the
fence, which went all the way around the yard. Grady followed behind me. He sat down and watched while I pulled my old super-deluxe long jump rope and a black T-shirt out from under my jacket and tossed them on the grass. Grady stood up and went to sniff them, then looked at me with his ears perked. I could tell he wanted to know what was going on.

“I'm gonna hang up our new clothesline, Grady,” I whispered. I wasn't sure why I was whispering, but it seemed appropriate.

Grady smiled. Or at least he looked like he was smiling. He stuck out his tongue and panted. I patted his head, but I couldn't feel his soft fur through my thick mittens.

I picked up one end of the jump rope and turned toward the huge maple tree that stood next to the tall brown fence. I had to hang the clothesline high enough so that the neighbors would see it, which wasn't going to be easy since the fence was way taller than me.

I started to climb up the tree slowly, thinking about what a good thing it was that I was the best jungle gym climber to come out of Roxbury. I had never really climbed a tree before, but it couldn't be much different. In the dark, it was hard finding spaces big enough to put my foot on, but I managed to feel around until I did. Below me I could hear Grady making soft whimpers. He was probably scared that I was going to fall down and break my neck, but he didn't know that, being the best jungle gym climber, I knew exactly how to fall so that I wouldn't get hurt.

Grady let out a yelp, and I looked down. He really was worried about me.

“I'm okay, Grady,” I whispered loudly He was going to wake somebody up and blow my whole plan.

As soon as I'd climbed high enough so I could see over the fence, I looked around for a big branch to tie one end of the jump rope to. I was surprised to see that there were some icicles on some of the branches. It was colder than I thought. Finally I found a big branch, and I swung one end of the jump rope around and knotted it. Now all I had to do was tie the other end to the fence a little ways over.

Grady growled.

Uh-oh.

I looked down, hoping it wasn't Mama or Dad.

“Well, hello there, young lady.”

I froze, hugging the tree. The voice came out of nowhere.

“Now, now, don't take fright and crack your head fallin' outta that tree.”

Slowly I turned my head. There was an old man looking up at me from the corner of the neighbor's yard. He had long straight white hair that reached his shoulders, and a baseball hat on his head. It was so dark I couldn't see the rest of his face.

“Haven't had us a tree-climbing accident since last summer. Believe it was young Rosemary fell outta that tree in the town center.” The old man kept talking and looking up at me. “Cracked her head good enough for four stitches. Rosemary Atkinson. Family's been around here since the Civil War.”

Great. Another person with a history lesson about Wal-cott. I looked carefully at the old man and saw that he was
wearing nothing but his bathrobe, pajamas and bedroom slippers. He was gonna freeze.

“Mister, what are you doing out here?” I asked curiously. He was the first person I'd met in this neighborhood besides Otis.

“Nightwatching.” The old man shook his head. “Always nightwatch this time of year.”

“What are you watching?” I asked. Was he senile? Mr. Roland from our old neighborhood is senile. He still thinks he's a general in the army during World War II. He calls all of the neighborhood kids “private” and is always ordering everyone off the street because of incoming bombs.

But the old man looked at me like I was the one that was crazy. “I'm watching the night. Believe I said that already.”

“You're our neighbor?” I asked. This neighborhood was getting weirder by the second. First Mrs. Spunklemeyer and Otis. Now this old man. They should rename this place W
ALCOTT
C
ORNERS
: W
HERE THE
S
TRANGE AND THE
S
ENILE
R
ESIDE
.

“Moses Elijah.” The old man bobbed his head. “And you would be … ?”

“Just Ola.”

The old man stepped back a couple of feet and whistled. “Lotta ice on that tree, Just Ola.”

“No —it's just Ola. Not Just Ola.”

“Believe that's what I said.” The old man was looking at me like I was crazy again. “Mind if I ask you what you're doing climbing trees before sunlight?”

“I'm hanging a clothesline.” I didn't bother to make up
anything or explain why. Even if Mr. Elijah did tell someone about the clothesline, that was exactly what I wanted.

“Right smart idea,” he mumbled. “Time was when every family in Walcott had a proper clothesline in the yard. Never did see one hanging from a tree, though.”

“It's a special clothesline.” I checked Grady and saw that he was sitting by the tree, still whimpering. “Grady's worried about me. I gotta go, Mr. Elijah.”

“Well, Just Ola, I'll wait and see that you get down outta that tree all right, and then I'll be gettin' back to my night-watching.” Mr. Elijah bobbed his head again.

I didn't bother to correct him about my name. I knew that senile people believe what they want. We never could convince Mr. Roland that we were kids instead of soldiers. I smiled as I looked for a place to put my foot. It had been Margarita's idea to turn the whole thing into a game. Every time Mr. Roland told us about an incoming bomb, all of us would start running like crazy. Some of us would fall and pretend we were wounded. When Mr. Roland said it was safe, he would order us to go back in and help the wounded back to camp. I stuck my foot into a hole in the middle of the tree and moved down a little. Thinking about Margarita made me remember my phone call to her that afternoon. She'd told me the “Martians” had moved into our house already but not to worry, 'cause she and Karen were looking for a bigger house right in Roxbury for us to move into, since we had a dog and Lillian now.

“Now, pay attention to what you're doing, Just Ola,” I heard Mr. Elijah call.

“Don't worry, Mr. Elijah,” I called back. I wasn't too far from the bottom now. “I'm the best jungle gym climber to come —”

The next thing I knew, I was pressed facedown in the cold, wet grass with Grady running around me in circles and barking like crazy.

“I was doing my usual nightwatching,” Mr. Elijah chuckled, lifting his mug of hot chocolate and sipping from it, “when I thought I saw a bear cub climbing up that big old maple tree in your yard.”

Mama and Dad were both frowning deeply as Mr. Elijah talked. I picked up the hand mirror and looked at my face again. Mama had brought it down for me and ordered me to look what I'd done to myself.

“Haven't seen a bear in Walcott proper since that circus accident in 1973, when all them animals ran loose around the town.” Mr. Elijah's face creased into a smile.

I stared at my left cheek, which was all swollen up, and the long red scratch on the top of my forehead. At least it was only my face. The big winter coat, gloves and boots had protected the rest of me. Climbing trees and climbing jungle gyms were two whole different things.

“As I got up closer to the tree there, I realized it wasn't a bear at all. It was a Just Ola!”

While Mr. Elijah cracked up, I considered reminding Mama and Dad that they were breaking the neighborhood rule about no late-night visitors. Then I decided that the less I said, the better off I'd be. Mama and Dad were both giving me looks to kill. Mama had already spread ointment on
my face and checked all my limbs to see that I hadn't broken anything. Once she and Dad realized that I was okay, they had started getting mad.

“Just what in the world were you doing?” Mama exploded.

“My jump rope got stuck in the tree,” I explained quickly. I'd had plenty of time to think of something while Mr. Elijah told his story. I knew that if I told Mama that I was doing this all for her, she wouldn't believe me.

“And just why did four o'clock in the morning seem like the best time to go climbing for it?” Mama asked. She was giving me that same look Mr. Elijah had been giving me earlier, like I was crazy.

“W-Well, I couldn't sleep,” I stammered, looking away from Mama to Dad. I was hoping he would hurry up and give me my punishment. It's always the same. Mama does all the yelling and Dad gives out the punishments.

“Normally four o'clock in the morning wouldn't be such a bad time to be climbing trees,” Mr. Elijah cut in. “It was just the wrong time of year. Too much ice around in the wintertime.”

I tried to smile at Mr. Elijah for helping me out, but my cheek hurt too much. “Yeah.”

“Yeah nothing.” Mama put her hands on her hips. She looked like a witch, with her hair all over her face and her long flannel nightgown going all the way down to her feet. “Do we have to watch you every minute of the night, too, Ola?”

Mama looked really frustrated. She stared at me for a full minute in complete silence. I knew she was trying to figure
out what was really going on with me. Finally she sighed and said, “You have to try, Ola.”

I looked away from her and nodded. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mama look at Dad and nod. Good— this was almost over.

“Dish duty every night this week. And straight home from school all month. No playing outside,” Dad announced. He wiped his hand across his face like he was tired.

No playing outside? Had Dad forgotten where we lived? I didn't know anybody yet, and even if I did, there was a rule against playing outside on the street in this neighborhood.

“Okay,” I said quickly, remembering how late Dad had come in from work the night before. Dad must have been really tired to let me get away so easy.

“We thank you, Mr. Elijah,” Mama said, turning to where Mr. Elijah was sitting.

Mr. Elijah waved a hand in the air. “Not a problem. Glad to help a neighbor out these days. Don't get to do it much in this community, what with all the rules. People keep to themselves here.”

Mama put her hands on the table. “So you haven't always lived here?”

“Family's been living in Walcott since 1812. Back then Walcott was a big mill town, and lots of folk were moving here for the work. My great-grandfather was a Scandinavian immigrant. Married an Italian girl.” Mr. Elijah's whole face lit up and made him look younger when he talked about Walcott. “Used to live in a grand old house for seniors near the park at the center of town, but there was a real bad fire
there last year. Whole block burned to the ground. Some of us seniors moved here to this new development.”

Mr. Elijah looked really sad about having to leave the grand old senior citizens' home. I knew exactly how he felt. “Do you live here by yourself, Mr. Elijah?”

“Live with my daughter and her no-good husband. It was his idea to move here to this cookie-cutter development.” Mr. Elijah wrinkled his mouth. “Can't say as I've gotten used to it yet.”

I looked at Mama and Dad meaningfully. Mr. Elijah had been living here a whole year and still didn't like it. They both ignored me while Mr. Elijah told them about this thing that had happened in Walcott in 1943 and that thing that had happened in 1911. All that history put me to sleep in less than two minutes, but not before I'd made a promise to myself. For Mama's sake, I was gonna do what she asked. I was gonna try.