Get Well Soon, Mallory!

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Get Well Soon, Mallory! Page 7

by Ann M. Martin


  While the kids were counting apples and oranges, Mary Anne discovered a basket of coin-sized chocolates wrapped in gold tinfoil. Each had a picture of a turkey on it. “These are perfect,” she cried. Mary Anne counted out three gold medallions for each basket. Then she remembered that some older people are like Stacey and can’t eat sweets, so she also filled a paper bag full of sugarless hard candy.

  Meanwhile Jessi and her group of kids were standing at the bookshelves.

  “This is amazing,” Jessi said as she surveyed row upon row of neatly stacked hardcover and paperback books. “There’s enough here to start a small library.”

  “Jessi, look!” Vanessa pointed to a brightly printed sign by a long table piled high with books. “It says, buy four, get one free.”

  “Let’s see.” Jessi squinted one eye shut. “That means if we need forty books, we’d only have to pay for thirty-two. That’s great. Now we need to decide which ones to buy.”

  “My grandma likes mysteries,” Vanessa said, holding up a paperback with a picture of a woman clutching a bloody knife on the cover. “But this looks too gross.”

  “Why don’t we look for mysteries that have nice pictures on the front?” Jessi suggested.

  “Yeah,” Charlotte agreed. “Pictures of cats are nice. And flowers.”

  “I like old houses,” Vanessa said.

  “And I like horses,” Jessi added.

  It took awhile but they did manage to find a number of mystery books with cats and horses and old houses and flowers on them. Then they relaxed the rules just a little to include candles and pretty women so that they could come up with a total of forty books.

  “Now, here’s our next assignment,” Jessi said. “There are fifteen people at the Manor whose eyesight is so poor that they need to listen to books. Let’s check out the recorded books.”

  “Ooooh! Look!” Charlotte held up a cassette. “The Wind in the Willows. I love this book.”

  “That’s a kid’s book,” Vanessa said. “I don’t think they’d like it.”

  “The Wind in the Willows is for kids of all ages,” Jessi said. “And I think it would be an excellent choice for someone at Stoneybrook Manor.”

  “Then how about The Velveteen Rabbit?” Vanessa said. “I’ve always loved this story.”

  “And Charlotte’s Web.” Charlotte hugged the tape to her chest. “I know they’d really, really like this one.”

  “If we get different tapes, they can trade them and have a lot of stories to listen to,” Vanessa suggested.

  Jessi nodded. “Even the people who are able to read will have fun listening to these stories.”

  After their cart was filled with tapes and books, Jessi and the girls looked for Kristy and her group.

  “They were going to buy gifts,” Jessi said. “I bet they’re looking for perfumes and toiletries.”

  “Nope,” Charlotte said. “They’re in the toy aisle.”

  “Toys?” Jessi cocked her head. “That’s odd. Well, I guess Kristy must have a reason.”

  Mary Anne had already found Kristy and the two of them stood surrounded by toy trucks and dolls.

  “Hey, Jessi!” Kristy called. “Come over here.”

  “I bet this really goes fast!” Nicky cried, holding up a small red sports car. He set it on the floor and shoved it toward Vanessa. “Vrrrooom!”

  Jessi wheeled her cart alongside Mary Anne’s and asked, “Did you choose the gifts already?”

  Kristy gestured to the children, who were inspecting the toys. “We’re doing that now.”

  “But —”

  “I know it seems funny buying toys for grandmas and grandpas,” Kristy interrupted, “but Nicky pointed out that they could get hand lotion and handkerchiefs any time.”

  Nicky was testing a paratrooper and his parachute by dropping the toy off of a counter. He called over his shoulder, “How often do people give them fun things? Never.”

  Kristy grinned at Jessi and shrugged. “I thought about it and it made sense. I mean, I like playing with Play-Doh and Legos, and so does my grandmother — so why wouldn’t the residents at Stoneybrook Manor?”

  “It’ll be like having Christmas a month early!” Karen said, as she contemplated a Barbie doll.

  Kristy set a limit on how much each toy could cost, and the children set to work picking out the toys. They tried to guess which one would be right for which person at the home.

  “Uncle Joe would probably really like this Popeye bubble blower,” Nicky said confidently. “Look, it’s got two wands. One for him, and one for me.”

  “I think Nancy’s adopted grandma would like to play jacks and Pick-up Stix.” Karen held the two packets in either hand, trying to choose between them. “Of course, she probably likes paper dolls, too.”

  “Don’t you think a Viewmaster would be really neat for someone in a wheelchair?” Charlotte suggested. “They could travel around the world without ever leaving Stoneybrook Manor.”

  Mary Anne, who can get pretty mushy at moments like this, gave Charlotte a hug. “That would be a lovely gift.”

  The final purchase was Becca’s idea. “We’re having a party, aren’t we? Why not get party blowers?”

  Kristy laughed. “Why not?” she said. “This will be the wildest Thanksgiving party anyone’s ever had!”

  On Sunday, the kids assembled at Mary Anne’s barn to put together the baskets. It was like show-and-tell as the bakers showed their work off to the shoppers.

  “Claudia taught us how to make Kooky Cookies,” Buddy Barrett said, holding his gingerbread man up for the others to see. The man was green with a horn sticking out of his forehead. “See? I made a Martian.”

  “I made a Thanksgiving peacock,” Melody Korman said. “See how pretty the feathers are?”

  Once the shoppers had shared their purchases with the chefs, everyone sat in a circle to put together the baskets. Stacey had asked a local import store to be a sponsor and donate the baskets. It was Claudia’s idea for the children to decorate them with ribbons.

  Kristy waved a packet of tags in the air. “Mrs. Fellows from Stoneybrook Manor gave me a list of the residents. I want each of you to write a name on your tag, then sign your own name on the other side. Those of you who brought school pictures can put them in the frames Bill and Buddy helped build and place those in the baskets.”

  Once the artwork was finished, the kids carried their baskets over to the folding tables that the BSC had set up around Mary Anne’s barn. One table held oranges. Another apples. Another chocolates. At the table holding the mysteries, Vanessa invented a name game that helped the kids select the books.

  “The perfect book for Mrs. Brookes,” Vanessa chanted, “is the one that’s titled Too Many Crooks.”

  “Here’s a book for Herman Schwartz,” Bill Korman said, as he held up a book with a frog on the cover. “A picture of a frog with warts.”

  “Candle, Candle, Burning Bright is just the book for Mary Wright,” chanted Charlotte, joining in the rhyming party.

  The toys were the hit of the day as each child picked just the right present for his or her basket. Once they were done, the children stacked all fifty-five baskets on one table and Jessi took a picture of them with her instant camera. “We’ll show this to Mal. I know it’ll cheer her up.”

  With the shopping done and the baskets assembled, there was only one more project to finish — the carnival. Stacey supervised that, and showed Kristy and the others the results Monday after school.

  “We decided to limit the carnival to a Bean Bag Throw, a Cakewalk, and Go Fish,” Stacey explained. “And we’ll start things off with a singalong led by Carolyn and Marilyn.” She smiled at the Arnold twins. “Why don’t you two teach your song to us?”

  Marilyn spoke first. “We were going to see if there were words to ‘Turkey in the Straw,’ but we couldn’t find any. Then we tried to find a Pilgrim song at the library but all of the Thanksgiving books were checked out.”

  “So,” Carolyn
cut in, “we decided to find a song that showed how we felt about our project. And that’s when Marilyn suggested we sing ‘The Friend Song.’ ”

  “You probably already know it,” Marilyn said, dividing the groups into three. “It’s a round. We’ll sing it several times and you join in when you’re sure of the words.”

  Kristy would never have admitted it, but listening to the kids’ voices was really moving. When the round ended, she put her arms around Marilyn and Carolyn and announced, “This is going to be the best Thanksgiving party ever.”

  You know the expression, “A watched pot never boils”? Well, a watched clock never ticks. It was late Tuesday afternoon and I had been staring at the alarm clock next to my bed for what seemed like forever. I was waiting for five-thirty. That’s when the kids would be returning from Stoneybrook Manor. I couldn’t wait to hear how the party had gone.

  “Mom?” I called from the door of my bedroom. “Any sign of Margo and the others?”

  “No, honey,” she replied from the living room downstairs. “But the program isn’t over until five. Then the mothers have to drive the kids home. So it’ll be awhile.”

  I decided not to watch my clock anymore and tried to read one of the books Jessi had checked out of the library. It was a funny book called Lucy Berky and the Thanksgiving Turkey and it was about a farm girl who befriends a wild turkey. Together they plot to free all of the turkeys in Hooterville the day before Thanksgiving.

  Even though the book was silly, I read it all the way to the end and even felt like cheering when the people of Hooterville vowed to eat cheese pizza instead of turkey on Thanksgiving Day. When I finally set the book down on my bedside table I couldn’t believe how the time had flown. It was almost six o’clock and, as if on cue, I heard the front door open and the sound of voices in the foyer.

  “Mallory, we’re home!” Nicky shouted from downstairs.

  “Boy, did we have fun!” Margo cried.

  I listened to the rumble of feet galloping up the stairs. Suddenly my room was filled with my brothers and sisters. They wore grins that stretched from ear to ear.

  Vanessa rushed to sit on my bed. “Oh, Mallory, the party was just wonderful.”

  “We saw Uncle Joe,” Nicky said. “And you should have seen him blowing bubbles. They were everywhere.”

  Adam clutched his stomach and said, “One popped on Mrs. Carver’s head, but she didn’t mind. She just laughed and laughed. So did everybody.”

  “Karen Brewer and Esther Bernard started playing jacks right in the middle of the room,” Margo said. “Pretty soon everyone wanted to take a turn.”

  I held up my hands. “Wait a minute. Wait. I want to know every little thing that happened. So would you guys start at the beginning?”

  “You mean, when we first went to Mary Anne’s to plan this party?” Nicky asked. “Or when we met at the barn after school today and got in the vans?”

  “Start with the vans.”

  Byron took a deep breath. “Mrs. Brewer, Mrs. Kishi, and Charlie Thomas drove us to Stoneybrook Manor.”

  “Charlotte and Becca rode with me,” Margo said.

  Vanessa waved a hand in the air. “Let’s skip over how we got there and who rode in what car, and go right to the good part.”

  “What was the good part?” I asked.

  Claire folded her arms across her chest and said, “Walking in the front door.”

  “They were waiting for us in the lobby,” Vanessa explained. “With big smiles on their faces. There were two white-haired ladies and a couple of bald men in wheelchairs and a lot of people with walkers that have these cloth bags hanging off the handles.”

  “What’s in the bags?” I asked.

  Vanessa shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  “A comb, two packs of Certs, a roll of quarters, and a photo of the grandchildren,” Nicky replied. “That’s what Mrs. Lymon carries in her bag. I know ’cause I asked her.”

  “What happened after you said hello? Did you hand out your goody baskets?”

  “There was a little bit of confusion at first,” Jordan said. “We didn’t know where to go.”

  “Then Mrs. Fellows — she’s the nice lady in charge of activities — met us and took us to the multi-purpose room,” Vanessa said.

  “That took a long time,” Claire added, “because old people are slow. Even in their wheelchairs, they’re slow. And it was kind of hot in there.”

  I nodded, remembering how warm the building always was when we visited Uncle Joe. “I think they keep the thermostat turned up because old people get cold pretty easily.”

  “Yeah,” Nicky said. “Most of them had sweaters on and blankets over their knees.”

  “Once everyone was in a circle,” Vanessa continued, “Kristy told us to skip around them.”

  “Then we stopped behind the chairs of the people whose names we’d drawn,” Byron cut in. “Luckily, Mrs. Fellows asked them to wear name tags, so we didn’t get confused.”

  “After that we handed out the baskets and yelled, ‘Happy Thanksgiving!’ ” Nicky said.

  “And everyone thanked us,” Vanessa added.

  “One woman told me that the basket was the nicest present she’d ever gotten in her entire life,” Margo said.

  Claire nodded. “Practically everyone said that. Mrs. Wright laughed when she saw the Miss Piggy puzzle I’d picked for her. Then we put it together. Twice.”

  “Mr. Hamilton looked at his box of Legos and just kept saying, ‘I’m touched. I am so touched,’ ” Adam said. “He built a bridge and a castle.”

  “I wish I could have been there,” I murmured. “Just to see their faces when they got the toys and books.”

  “Then Mrs. Fellows took us to visit the people who had to stay in bed,” Claire said. “I felt bad for them. They seemed so sick.”

  I squeezed Claire’s hand. “I’m sure it meant a lot to have you visit.”

  Claire smiled. “One woman didn’t say anything about the basket, she just held my hand and her eyes got all watery.”

  “A little old man named Mr. Renquist let me turn the crank on his bed,” Nicky added. “First I raised his head, then his feet. Then both. He said he felt like he was caught inside an accordion. It was pretty funny.”

  Hearing them tell their stories of the people in their hospital beds made me realize how lucky I was. I had been in bed for nearly a month but those people would probably spend the rest of their lives that way.

  “When we got back to the multi-purpose room,” Vanessa continued, “Kristy announced that it was now time for the Thanksgiving Carnival to begin.”

  “What did they think of that?”

  “Well, a few didn’t hear her right,” Jordan replied. “One man, who had a hearing aid attached to a battery, said really loudly, ‘No, thanks, I can’t eat caramels.’ ”

  “It took a little while for them to understand what was happening,” Byron said. “But as soon as they understood, everyone wanted to go first.”

  Nicky grinned. “We let Uncle Joe be the first to toss the bean bag and he got it in the turkey’s mouth three times in a row! The other old guys all cheered.”

  Claire leaned on my bed with her elbows by my pillow. “The Cakewalk was funny because hardly anybody walked. They were all in those chairs but I think they were happy.”

  “I worked on the Go Fish booth,” Margo said. “The people would dangle their lines over the edge of the screen and we’d attach cookies that Claudia had baked and some of the little chocolate coins from Cost-Club to their hooks. And people loved them.”

  Jordan grinned. “Bart Bartlesby, the oldest man at the home, kept shouting, ‘Oh, I think you landed a big one!’ and everyone would laugh.”

  “What did Mrs. Fellows think of the party?” I asked.

  “I didn’t hear her say anything,” Vanessa said. “But she did a lot of hugging.”

  “No kidding.” Nicky wrinkled his nose. “She hugged everybody twice. After the first time, David Michael and
us guys ran from her and hid behind the Go Fish screen.”

  “Did she see you?” I asked.

  Nicky shrugged. “I guess so. But she just laughed. Everybody was laughing a lot. Especially when we sang our song.”

  “You sang a song?” I asked as I fluffed up my pillow. “When?”

  “At the very end,” Vanessa said. “Kristy asked us to form a circle. Then she made a speech about Thanksgiving, and what this day meant to all of us. And then we sang our friendship song that Marilyn and Carolyn taught us.”

  I clasped my hands behind my head. “It sounds like it was a perfect party.”

  Nicky hopped off the bed. “Yeah. Most of us promised to come back for more visits. Mr. Renquist said next time I can crank up the middle of his bed. He says that looks really funny.”

  “Claire and I promised to visit all of our new friends at least once a month. And we will, too.” Margo turned to Claire. “Right?”

  Claire bobbed her head in one firm nod. “Right.”

  I leaned back against my pillows with a sigh. “I hope someday I can go with you.”

  “Then you can play jacks with Mrs. Bernard,” Claire said.

  “Or Legos with Mr. Hamilton,” Adam added.

  “That sounds wonderful.” I stifled a yawn. I couldn’t believe I was getting tired again. The excitement of hearing about their visit had worn me out.

  Vanessa caught my yawn and hustled the others out of the room. “Come on, you guys,” she said. “Mal needs to take a nap. And I need to do my homework. I have a test tomorrow and then —” Vanessa paused and grinned at the others.

  “No more school!” everybody shouted.

  “That’s right.” I smiled to myself. “One more day until Thanksgiving.” Even though the trip to New York had been canceled, I was looking forward to spending the holiday with my family.

  “Who wants to polish the silver?” Mom called from the kitchen.

  “We’ll do it,” Adam said, volunteering himself and Byron and Jordan. “Can we polish the big carving knives, too?”

  “Yes, but be careful,” Mother said as she carried the heavy mahogany box into the dining room.

 

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