The Colors of Madeleine 01: Corner of White (14 page)

It was on page 47, in tiny print, under the heading, “Sporting Events.”

“In the
Herald,
” said Kala. “You’ve hit the big time.”

“Sort of makes me wonder why you guys are not training right now,” Cody mused. “Day before the game. Isn’t that what people do?”

Elliot, Gabe, and Nikki, who were all on the team, shrugged as one.

“Can’t get any better than we are,” said Gabe.

Shelby chewed a fingernail. “And you leave the day after the game, Elliot?”

Elliot nodded.

“Let one of us come with you this time,” she suggested.

“Let
all
of us come with you,” Nikki said. “You didn’t let us come on your other trips, but you can’t do Wandering Hostiles on your own.”

There was a moment then, when they were all talking at once, about what they would pack, and how much money they had in their savings accounts, and how they’d always wanted to see the Lake of Spells or take on a werewolf — a moment when, behind their talk, their lives together seemed to move between their eyes. All the things they’d shared — fruit picking right across the Farms; towing one another downriver behind trucks; the year that Nikki’s farm did so well they’d all worked day and night, only turning the tractors off for an oil change; the year the dewbirds were swooping and they’d walked everywhere as a group, paper bags on their heads, faces drawn on the backs by Cody to scare the birds away.

Elliot shook his head.

“None of your farms can do without you,” he said.

“Mine can,” said Kala. “I’ll make my sisters cut down on ballet classes and start working on the farm instead.”

“My family’s farm’s gone to hell anyway,” Shelby said.

Cody was still turning pages in the newspaper.

“Forget Wandering Hostiles,” he said. “Watch out for the Princess Sisters, Elliot. They’re still on tour.” He was scanning a page as he spoke, a grin forming around his words. “Listen to their column,” and he put on a Princess voice and began to read:

By the time Cody had reached the end of the column, the five were laughing so hard that the librarian approached with a frown.

“Oh, you’re reading the Princess Sisters’ column,” she said, her frown transforming to a smile. “Isn’t it a hoot?” and she laughed too.

Cody pulled the page out of the newspaper, made a paper hat from it, and stuck it on Elliot’s head.

4.

S
eems like tambourines are clashing and jangling, but they’re not; it’s just the atmosphere.

It’s the next day, and the morning of the deftball finals. The sky is high with summer blue, and the Town Square is lined with trestle tables. These are loaded with hats, scarves, T-shirts, streamers, noise-makers, and huge foam hands (fingers and thumbs in various states of celebration), all in the Bonfire Antelopes blue and gold.

The pyramid of pumpkins is gone, and in its place is a fiberglass antelope, painted in blue and gold stripes and mounted on a stand. Kids are climbing on the antelope or tossing deftballs high across its head. A couple of very small kids carry a crateload of tomatoes in the direction of the grocery store. They slow down, watching the flying deftballs. With a glance at each other, they dump the crate, take a tomato each, and fling these into the air. The idea catches on: Tomatoes fill the air.

Meanwhile, all over the square, little girls are searching under tables and in coffee mugs, and standing on their toes to check window ledges. Someone up north has predicted that the Butterfly Child will arrive in the province of the Farms today, and the little girls of Bonfire are determined that they’ll find her if she’s here. Some of these girls have pinned chiffon butterfly wings to the back of their denim overalls.

Elliot and his mother are having breakfast at the Bakery. People are calling, “Good luck!” to Elliot, and “We’re counting on you, buddy,” or “Knock ’em dead.” Others shout, “How you doin’, Petra?” and “Proud of your boy?” to his mother. And still others stop right by the table to exclaim, “Well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes! Look how tall you’ve got, Elliot!!” because people who moved away from town in the last year — trying to find work, their own crops having failed — have come home today to watch the finals.

Mostly Elliot and Petra are just eating and calling back, “Thanks!” or “Fine, how’s yourself?” or “Well, if it isn’t Sarah-Jane Marshall?! And you’ve gone and got your teeth fixed!”

Elliot’s friends wander into the square in a group and cross to his table. Gabe and Nikki, already dressed in their blue-and-gold uniforms, lean against the table, but their eyes have the edge and self-consciousness of star players on the big day.

Shelby holds up her arm to show Elliot and his mother the antelope that now adorns her cast.

“Cody did it.” She points sideways at Cody. “He wants to do a series on casts, so we’ve all got to break our bones for him.”

Cody nods. “I’d appreciate that.” His face is painted blue and gold, and he’s inked tiny antelopes up and down the bare skin of his arms.

Petra Baranski takes a mouthful of coffee, puts it down, and scolds, “You want to give yourself ink poisoning, Cody?”

“Look at the little guys on his right arm,” Gabe points out. “He had to do them with his left hand, see, but they’re perfect. That’s talent right there.”

“So he’s ambidextrous,” says Petra. “Won’t save his life.”

“Ah,” says Elliot. “Ink poisoning’s a myth.”

Kala has blue and gold beads braided through her hair. She’s wearing a Bonfire Antelopes T-shirt with tie-dyed cotton pants. Now she takes two woven wristbands from her pocket, and hands them to Elliot.

“One’s for luck today,” she says, “and one’s for luck on your journey tomorrow,” and she kisses him fast on the cheek. The others watch this silently, and keep watching while Elliot slides both bands onto his left wrist and holds it up to show her.

Then they all talk about the referees who have arrived from Golden Coast, which is where the deftball headquarters are, and about whether GC game rules will apply, and how GC got ahold of deftball anyway, seeing as it started right here in the Farms. They talk about how Sadie Richmond pulled a hamstring last night, chasing down a goat, but she thinks she can still play today, and how they’ve heard
that the opposing team, the Horatio Muttonbirds, maybe hit their peak too early in the season, and what a dumbass name the Horatio Muttonbirds is, and how that gives the Antelopes the edge right there: that name.

Nobody mentions tomorrow’s journey again. They tell Elliot to get his butt into gear and finish breakfast, and that they’ll see him up at the field.

They’re gone, and it’s quiet for a moment.

“You’re going to break that Kala’s heart,” says Petra eventually. “Don’t you see how her eyes catch fire when you smile at her?”

Elliot plays with the wristbands. “She’s gorgeous,” he says. “What do you want me to do?”

“Well.” Petra scratches at her eyebrow. “I guess you’re leaving tomorrow anyway. First train of the morning, right?”

Elliot nods.

“And you think you’ll be gone for a few weeks?”

“Maybe longer. As long as it takes.”

Petra grows still. She leans forward slightly. Her eyes are full of the things she wants to say, pages and pages of things she’d like to say.

Instead, she says, “Make this the last time.”

Elliot also grows still, then, suddenly agitated, he looks behind his shoulder and pulls on his shoelace. He turns back, changing the subject.

“I checked the sculpture one more time this morning,” he says. “Still nothing.”

He means Cody’s sculpture in the schoolyard. Since he replied to the letter from the Girl-in-the-World, he’s looked once or twice for a reply, more for his mother than himself.