Daphne's Book

by Mary Downing Hahn

  I was afraid I would hurt Daphne's feelings if I refused, so I smiled and walked across the yard with her. I hoped she couldn't hear my heart thumping. It seemed awfully loud to me.

  Mrs. Woodleigh frowned at me as I climbed the back steps. "I thought you went home."

  "Jessica's going to have a cup of tea before she goes, Grandmother," Daphne said. "It's a long, cold walk."

  The kitchen was large and sunny, high-ceilinged and warm, but like the rest of the house, it had been neglected for years. The walls were stained with grease and smoke, the corners were thick with cobwebs, and the paint was peeling. Like the hall, it stank of cats and garbage.

  "Would you like a cup, Grandmother?" Daphne asked as she filled the kettle.

  Mrs. Woodleigh lowered herself stiffly into a chair. "I suppose so, if you can make it the way I like it. Nice and hot and not too strong."

  "Can I have some, too?" Hope asked as Daphne got cups out of a cabinet over the sink.

  "Of course."

  While Daphne busied herself making tea, I gazed around the room, trying to avoid looking at Mrs. Woodleigh. As my eyes traveled up the walls to the ceiling, she leaned toward me and grabbed my arm.

  "You're worried about that, aren't you?" She pointed at a crack running up one wall and across the ceiling. "The house is going to collapse soon. It'll start right there and then the whole place will come down on our heads. Buried alive, buried alive, that's what we'll be."

  Hope, who had been leaning silently against her grandmother, pulled away, her face frightened.

  "You know that's not true, Grandmother." Daphne gave Hope a reassuring hug. "The whole house isn't going to fall down because of one little crack."

  Mrs. Woodleigh shook her head and pursed her mouth into a tight little frown. She knew better, she did. Taking the cup Daphne offered her, she blew on the tea and took a noisy sip. With a shaky hand she slammed the cup down. "There's too much sugar in it! Can't you ever learn to fix it the way I like it?"

  Daphne sighed. "I put one teaspoon in, Grandmother, just like you told me to."

  Mrs. Woodleigh glared at Daphne. "You may think I'm a foolish old lady, but I know what's going on."

  "Would you like me to fix you another cup? You could put the sugar in yourself this time." Daphne stared at her grandmother, her pale face expressionless.

  "No, I don't want any now." The old woman pushed the cup away and frowned at me as if it were all my fault. "This house is going to ruin. Just like the whole country. Nothing is any good anymore."

  I toyed with my teacup, turning it round and round on its saucer. I didn't know what to say.

  "If they would just let John come home, everything would be all right," Mrs. Woodleigh said. "He'd take care of us, he'd fix the crack, he'd keep the house from falling down on us, wouldn't he?" She looked at Daphne, her face filled with anxiety. "How long are they going to keep him in that place? Why won't they let him leave Vietnam?"

  Daphne touched her grandmother's shoulder gently, "Would you like to take your nap now?" she asked.

  "I just don't know how much longer I can wait. It's not right for them to keep him there, not when we need him so bad." Rubbing her hands together, Mrs. Woodleigh got up and allowed Daphne to lead her out of the room. At the doorway, she paused and looked at the crack. "It won't be long now, will it?"

  As Mrs. Woodleigh shuffled up the stairs, I turned to Hope. My heart was thumping hard again. "Was she talking about your father?" I whispered.

  Hope nodded. "He wants to come home, I know he does." She looked at me, her face puzzled. "Why won't they let him?"

  Uneasily I stared at her, not sure what to say or think. As the silence in the kitchen grew, Daphne came clickety-clacking down the hall. Without a word, she scooped Hope into her lap and hugged her tight. "It's all right," she said tenderly. "You know how confused Grandmother gets, Hope. Daddy's not coming back, no matter what she says. He's dead, Hope. You know that."

  Hope nodded, but she didn't look up from Daphne's shoulder. "He would if he could, though, wouldn't he?" She mumbled.

  Daphne nodded. "But he can't, Hope, he can't. And we have to take care of ourselves." She sat there, with Hope on her lap, and finished drinking her tea. Then she got up. "Come on, Hope. Get your jacket. We'll walk partway down the drive with Jessica."

  Nine

  AFTER LEAVING Daphne and Hope at the foot of their driveway, I hurried home. I wanted to get as far away as possible from Mrs. Woodleigh and her talk about dead men coming back.

  By the time I reached Willow Court, I was breathless from running and half-frozen. As I pushed our front door open, I heard Josh's stereo blasting away upstairs, but for once the noise didn't irritate me. Compared to Daphne's house, full of the sound of wind and creaking shutters, Josh's stereo was positively comforting.

  While I was fixing myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I heard Josh thumping downstairs. "Where have you been all day, Jess-o?" he asked. "Mom's called twice, and she was upset because I didn't know where you were."

  "I went to see Daphne," I said.

  "I thought you didn't like her. Isn't she the one you said was so weird?"

  "That was before I got to know her." I frowned at Josh. "She's actually very nice."

  "What's in the envelope?"

  "The illustrations for our book." After washing my hands, I opened the envelope and spread the pictures out on the table. "Aren't they beautiful?"

  Josh stared at the paintings. "Did she really draw these?"

  I nodded, proud of Daphne. "She's a wonderful artist, isn't she?"

  "She sure is." He examined each one, and then he grinned at me. "If your story is just half as good as these pictures, you'll win for sure."

  Mom walked in before I'd put the pictures away. "These are beautiful, Jessie." She studied them, smiling and shaking her head. "Daphne has real talent."

  "I know." Returning the illustrations to the envelope, I said, "Mr. O'Brien was right when he said she wouldn't let me down."

  "What are we having for dinner?" Josh opened the refrigerator and scowled. "There's nothing to eat!"

  Mom smiled. "I'm going to the store tomorrow, Josh. Ed's taking us out to dinner tonight."

  Josh groaned. "Where's he taking us? If it's not McDonald's, I'm not going."

  "We were thinking about the Magic Skillet. You've never had crepes."

  "And I don't want any. All I want is a Quarter-Pounder." Josh scowled. "What are crepes anyway?"

  "They're fancy pancakes with stuffing." I was happy to know something Josh didn't know for once. "They're really good."

  "They sound horrible," Josh grumbled. "Do I have to change my clothes?"

  Mom and I looked at his T-shirt, a souvenir of a Purple Punks concert he'd gone to last summer, his faded jeans, and his frayed running shoes.

  Mom nodded. "Go up and put something decent on. That nice tan sweater and your brown cords. Ed will be here in a few minutes. She looked at me. "You, too, Jessica. How about your striped sweater and the slacks I bought to go with it?

  When Ed arrived, both Josh and I passed inspection. Although Josh was still grumbling about burgers and fries, Ed and Mom loaded us into the back seat of Ed's Datsun and whisked us off to the Magic Skillet.

  Of all the restaurants I've ever been too, the Magic Skillet is my favorite. It overlooks a big, man-made lake where you can rent paddleboats in the summer, and it has a nice, cozy atmosphere. The waitresses dress like Heidi, and if you order a Coke they put a cherry in it. I was determined not to let Josh ruin the evening by complaining about the food.

  While Josh quizzed Mom about the menu, I tried to remember what I'd had the last time. Tracy's parents had taken us out to dinner for her birthday, and I'd ordered something with chicken in it. But what? Three crepes listed chicken as an ingredient. As I deliberated, I could hear Josh muttering that everything was too fancy. He finally decided on a ham and cheese crepe, and I ordered Chicken Divan, hoping I'd like it.

  While
we waited for our food, Mom told Ed about Daphne's pictures. Turning to me, she asked if I'd found out why Daphne had missed school last week.

  "She has mononucleosis," I said.

  "Oh, that's awful. How long will she have to stay home?"

  "She doesn't know."

  "Well, I hope someone gets a tutor for her." Pausing to take a sip of water, Mom asked me about Mrs. Woodleigh. "Did you meet her?"

  I nodded, glad to see our waitress arriving with our food. I felt uncomfortable at the prospect of talking about Mrs. Woodleigh. I had a feeling Mom wouldn't want me to visit Daphne if she knew how strange her grandmother was.

  Thanks to Josh, the conversation never got back to Mrs. Woodleigh. He monopolized the evening talking about a new video game he'd played at the arcade. "See, the whole object is to keep these green invaders out of the fortress, but they're really tricky."

  Josh went on and on, describing every method he'd discovered to blast the little green things. Ed's eyes practically glazed over with boredom, but Josh didn't stop talking until he'd eaten his way through a salad, a bowl of soup, two crepes, and a strawberry blintz heaped high with whipped cream.

  When I gave Mr. O'Brien Daphne's pictures on Monday, he was delighted. "These are beautiful," he said. "I certainly wish Daphne were here, though. When is she coming back to school?"

  "She has mononucleosis," I said, "and she doesn't know when she'll be back."

  "But what is she going to do about all the work she's missing?"

  "I told her I could bring her assignments," I said.

  "Well, that's very good of you, Jessica, but she should have a tutor." Mr. O'Brien stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Maybe I could drive out there one day after school and talk to her grandmother. She may not know that the Board of Education will supply free tutoring for Daphne."

  He looked at his calendar and shook his head. "Looks like I'm all booked up this week. Will you see Daphne any time soon?"

  "I told her I'd go out there on Saturday."

  "That's great. I'll send a letter along with you, telling Mrs. Woodleigh how to get a tutor."

  On Saturday, I slipped the mice into my pocket, grabbed Mr. O'Brien's letter and Daphne's assignments, and walked out to Cook's Lane. Luckily for me, the weather had warmed all week, and it felt more like spring than winter.

  Daphne and Hope were waiting for me by the mailbox, and we walked up the driveway together.

  "Did you bring the mice?" Hope asked.

  With a flourish, I pulled them out of my pocket and held them toward her in the palm of my hand. Happily she snatched Baby Mouse and capered about laughing and squeaking.

  "Let's go to the grove," Daphne said.

  Giving the house a wide berth, we entered the grove and began working out the details of our sequel.

  "This is the Forest Savage," Daphne intoned, "and it is here that we must search for Sir Benjamin. The perils are many, my lady, and you must have courage." She walked Cragstar up the trunk of the fallen tree, and I made Princess Heatherfern follow.

  After an hour or so, Hope came scrambling up to join Daphne and me in our perch high in the tree. "Let's ask Grandmother for something to eat," she said. "Me and Baby Mouse are hungry."

  Daphne's face clouded over and she shook her head. "She hasn't gone to the store yet. I don't think we have anything for lunch."

  "I've got my allowance with me," I said. "Let's go to McDonald's. We can walk to the one on Route 210."

  Hope's face lit up. "Oh, let's, let's!" She bounced so hard the branches swung up and down wildly.

  "I don't have any money," Daphne said.

  "That's okay. I've got enough for all of us," I said.

  It took me at least ten minutes to persuade Daphne to let me treat, but she finally gave in.

  "We should have brought the cart, Daphne." Hope poked in the weeds along Cook's Lane, dislodging bottles and cans with her toe. "Look at all this stuff."

  Daphne seemed embarrassed. "We can come back with Grandmother sometime."

  "What does she do with all those newspapers and bottles and things?" I asked.

  "There's a junkyard down the road. They pay her for it." Daphne walked a little faster.

  "Yes, we make lots of money that way," Hope said.

  "Not lots, Hope," Daphne said sharply.

  "Enough to buy our groceries," Hope insisted.

  As we rounded a curve, I saw the intersection, and a little farther down the road McDonald's golden arches. "There it is," I said.

  Inside I had to argue with Daphne about what to order. She kept insisting that all she wanted was an order of french fries and a glass of water, but I knew she was hungry. She was picking the cheapest thing because she didn't have any money. I finally persuaded her to have a hamburger and fries, but I couldn't talk her into anything else.

  Hope, on the other hand, ordered a Big Mac with cheese, a large order of french fries, and a strawberry milkshake.

  Just as we were finishing our food, I looked out the window and saw Tony and Scott pedaling into the parking lot on their ten-speeds. Quickly I got up and mumbled something about going to the ladies' room. I was hoping that if I stayed in there long enough, the boys would be gone when I came out.

  Congratulating myself on my quick wits, I ducked inside without being seen and went into a stall. A few seconds later, I heard someone else come in. Looking down, I saw two pairs of running shoes.

  "Oh, no, somebody's in there," I heard Michelle say.

  "Look at my hair!" The second voice was Tracy's.

  Inside the stall, I cringed. What were they doing here? I'd only seen Tony and Scott. From them I would have been safe in the ladies' room, but now I was really trapped.

  "I look awful," Michelle groaned.

  "Me, too," Tracy said. "If Tony and Scott didn't ride so fast, it wouldn't be so bad. I thought we'd never catch up with them."

  "Did you see Daffy when you came in?" Michelle started laughing.

  "No, is she here?" Tracy sounded surprised. "I thought she was sick or something."

  "She was sitting at the table near the door with a funny-looking little kid." Michelle snorted. "She didn't look sick either. Not physically, at least. Mentally, that's another story."

  Then the door opened again. Little feet this time in dirty sneakers with a hole in one toe.

  "Jessica, aren't you ever coming out?" Hope squatted down and peered under the door at me. "Are you sick or something?"

  Flushing the toilet, I opened the door. Michelle and Tracy, who had been busily writing their names on the mirror with lipstick, stared at me, their mouths open in amazement.

  "Jessica!" Tracy said. "What are you doing here?"

  I shrugged. My face was so red, I thought my skin was going to burst.

  Then Tracy looked at Hope. "Are you Daphne's little sister?"

  Brushing some of her hair out of her face, Hope smiled sweetly at Tracy and Michelle. "Uh-huh. Do you go to school with her and Jessica?"

  Tracy nodded and shot Michelle a look over Hope's head. Michelle was laughing as usual. "What's wrong with your sister? How come she hasn't been in school?" Tracy asked innocently.

  "Grandmother doesn't want her to go. She says Daphne's so smart she doesn't need to go to school."

  "Is that right?" Michelle flipped her hair back and examined her face in the mirror.

  "How about you, though? Don't you go to school either?" Tracy asked.

  Hope shook her head. "I'm just in kindergarten, so I don't need to. Grandmother says all you learn there is finger painting and silly songs. I already know how to read, so it would be a waste of time."

  "Gee, you and Daffy sure are lucky to be so smart you don't have to do the things everybody else has to do." Michelle's voice was loaded with sarcasm.

  Hope looked up at me. "Come on, Jessica, let's go."

  "Are you with Daphne?" Tracy asked.

  "I had to bring her her homework," I said stiffly.

  Hope gave my hand a tug, and Michel
le snorted. "You better go on, Jessica. You don't want to keep Daffy waiting."

  As soon as we left the ladies' room, Hope asked, "Did that girl call Daphne 'Daffy'?"

  "I didn't notice." Anxious to leave, I hurried past Tony and Scott without looking at them. "Where's Daphne?" I asked Hope.

  "I don't know." Hope followed me out into the parking lot. "She was sitting at our table when I went to get you, and those boys started talking to her. Don't they like Daphne?" Hope looked very worried. "You like her, don't you?"

  "Of course I do, Hope." I led her across the lot and up the road. Far ahead of us, I could see Daphne striding along.

  "Daphne, Daphne!" Hope shouted and started running up the road after her. "Wait for me!"

  At the sound of Hope's voice, Daphne turned around, her arms folded tightly across her chest. When we caught up with her, I could tell that she had been crying.

  "What's wrong, Daphne?" Hope caught her sister's hand and stared up at her.

  Daphne shook her head. "Nothing." Without looking at me, she started walking away, yanking Hope after her. "Come on, Grandmother is probably worried to death about us."

  Ten

  ALTHOUGH DAPHNE was making it very clear that she had no wish to speak to me, I tagged along behind her and Hope, trying to think of something I could say to make everything all right.

  When we reached the driveway, Daphne turned around and looked at me. "Thanks for bringing me my homework and treating us to lunch." Her voice was stiff and formal, and she didn't smile.

  I shrugged. "That's okay. It wasn't any trouble." I wanted to apologize for hiding in the ladies' room, I wanted to beg her not to hate me for deserting her, but I just stood there, fiddling with my glasses and feeling miserable.

  "Well, Hope and I have to go home." Daphne hesitated.

  "Okay." I put my glasses back on and shoved them into place on my nose. "Do you want me to bring your homework next Saturday?"

  "I don't care. If you want to." Daphne gazed past me at the clouds blowing across the sky, but Hope kept staring at me as if she were trying to figure out what was going on.