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The Marble Queen

Page 13

by Stephanie J. Blake


  We’d attended a special piano recital the night before at our church. Mrs. Zierk entertained a packed house with Christmas songs. Then, for the last song, she’d called Mama up to the piano! I couldn’t believe my eyes when my mother walked to the front of the church.

  My mama sang “Ave Maria” in front of the whole congregation. They’d been practicing without telling a single person of their plans.

  The song made me cry. I can’t say why exactly, but it had that effect on other people, too. Even Daddy had to wipe tears from his cheeks when Mama took her bow.

  I never realized how powerful Mama’s beautiful singing voice could be. I was so proud.

  Mama came out of the bedroom holding my newborn sister, Barbara Jean McKenzie.

  “Freedom, will you hold the baby?” she asked.

  I took my sister in my arms. She was wrapped in a pink blanket and smelled like baby powder. She stared up at me with her dark blue eyes. She’s cute and bald, and her toes are too long. Like mine.

  Mama leaned over and kissed Daddy.

  He grabbed her hand. “Can you believe we’re at the end of a decade again? It’ll be 1960 this time next week.”

  Mama sighed. “I don’t want to think about that right now.”

  She was worn out. Little baby Barbara doesn’t sleep at night. Mama is constantly warming bottles at the stove. And who knew a new baby could make so much dirty laundry? The washing machine is always running. And I am always folding undershirts and nightgowns at the kitchen table. A pail of stinky cloth diapers has taken up residence in the corner of the bathroom.

  “Sit a minute with us, Willie,” Daddy begged.

  “Just let me get the potatoes mashed, Homer.” She kissed him again.

  Higgie was napping under the tree. I nudged my brother gently with my foot. “Higgie. Wake up.” He was wearing new cowboy pajamas with his new cowboy boots.

  “What?” He groaned.

  “Get up and pick up some of the wrapping paper.”

  “I can’t,” Higgie said. “You do it.”

  “I’m holding Barbara,” I told him.

  I liked it that my new sister needed me.

  “Never mind the mess,” Daddy said. He was admiring a silver ball-point pen. I gave it to him and bought it with my own money, too. The striped afghan I’d made for Mama was hanging off the back of the fuzzy green rocker.

  “Oh, Freedom,” she’d gushed as she opened my gift. “I can’t believe you made this all by yourself.” Mrs. Zierk had helped me finish it off, but I knitted the whole thing. Mama doesn’t seem to mind that it’s a bit itchy. She covers up with it when she rocks Barbara.

  My baby sister had fallen asleep in my arms. I nuzzled the top of her warm head before putting her down in the playpen. I’d known her for only a few weeks, but it felt like I’d loved her a lifetime already, even if she kept the entire house awake with her screams.

  Daddy reached for me. “Come here, Sugar Beet.”

  I climbed up onto his lap just like I used to when I was little. He whispered, “I’ve got a secret something for you.”

  “Another present?” I exclaimed. “I got eight presents already!”

  It’s true. I got two records. A new pair of roller skates. A beautiful blue bicycle. A pink wool coat. A white purse to replace my black scuffed-up one. The Etch A Sketch. And a strand of seed pearls, just like the real ones Daddy had given Mama on Christmas Eve. It seems like we have more money now that Daddy doesn’t drink anymore.

  Daddy pointed to the tree. “You’ll have to lie next to Higgie to find your present.”

  I scrambled over to Higgie. “Shove over.”

  As soon as I was on my back and looking up into the tree, I saw it. There was a silver crown nestled in the uppermost branches. I pulled the crown free, and dry needles flew everywhere.

  It was a crown of marbles!

  “Every queen needs a crown,” Daddy said.

  He’d made a crown out of a strip of sheet metal. He’d sanded it smooth and glued some of my marbles to it—like jewels.

  Daddy smiled. “Try it on.”

  “I want one! I want a crown, too,” Higgie said.

  “I’ll let you try it on, Higgie. After me.” I put the crown on my head. It fit perfectly. “Thank you, Daddy! Thank you.”

  As I admired myself in the hall mirror, I thought about the competition. How important it had been for me to win, but then how it felt okay, even meant to be, when I’d lost to Esau. I hadn’t felt like playing marbles all month.

  You know how sometimes you need to do something—especially when people say you can’t, you have to try anyway? Well, that’s how I felt about marble shooting. I’d done it. And maybe it was time to try something else.

  Mama came out of the kitchen and saw me wearing the crown.

  “That’s real nice,” she said.

  Daddy snapped a photo of us with his new Polaroid. When the picture came out of the opening in the front, he waved it around until the image appeared.

  I stared at Mama and me. We both looked happy.

  Daddy clapped his hands. “Okay, time for cleaning up.”

  I offered Higgie my crown. “You can wear it while we clean.”

  When Higgie is a little older, I’ll give him the pouch with the rest of the marbles, including my blue taw.

  Mama said, “We can leave this mess a bit longer. Let’s all sit together on the couch, and we’ll listen to the radio.”

  Mama and Daddy sat close together. Higgie climbed up onto Mama’s lap.

  Mama said, “You coming, Freedom?”

  I picked up my beautiful sleeping sister and said, “Coming, Mama.”

  Stephanie J. Blake loves black jelly beans. She is scared of the dark. She reads lots of books. She’s a terrible driver. She eats chocolate. A lot. Sometimes she has déjà vu, and she likes it. Her middle name is Jane. The Marble Queen is her first book.

  When she’s not in front of the computer, she can be found in her backyard in Colorado with her husband, their three boys, and their two dogs. If she weren’t a writer, she’d be a country singer. Or maybe a pastry chef.

  Visit her online: www.themarblequeen.com and www.stephaniejblake.com.

 

 

 


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