Here Today

by Ann M. Martin

  “Allan!” she exclaimed. “Did you finish already?”

  “I was hungry.” He patted his stomach.

  Mr. Dingman sat down next to Ellie and ate his own cone while Ellie stared out at King Street, remembering Tammy, remembering the lady with the potato face, remembering Doris glide by Marie in Harwell’s.

  “Well, how about one more peek at Doris before we go home?” asked Mr. Dingman a few minutes later.

  “No,” said Marie.

  “We have to walk by Harwell’s, anyway, to get to the truck,” Albert pointed out.

  “All right, but you can’t make me look.”

  “Whatever.”

  They had just reached the group of people gathered outside Harwell’s window when Allan said quietly, “I don’t feel well,” then leaned over and threw up on the sidewalk.

  “Oh, ew!” someone squawked, jumping backward.

  “Hey, he rides my bus,” a boy said, pointing to Allan.

  “He’s the Hebe,” his friend replied.

  “Hush,” said a woman, paling at the sight of the vomit. “That isn’t polite.” She pulled the boys away.

  “Dad,” said Ellie, peering into the Harwell’s window and realizing that Doris, lost in some world of her own, had no idea that Allan was sick or even that her family had returned and was part of the crowd. “Do something.”

  Mr. Dingman patted Allan on the back, and he leaned over and threw up again.

  “Here, Allan.” Ellie pulled a napkin from the Dairy Queen out of her pocket and wiped his mouth with it. “You just ate too fast, that’s all. Come on. Let’s go home.”

  Ellie and her father and the Witch Tree Lane kids hurried down King Street, Mr. Dingman carrying Allan. Behind them, Doris twirled and turned and posed in the window of Harwell’s.

  “Ellie?” Tammy White stepped in front of Ellie and Holly as they zipped into their classroom one Friday morning, hoping to scurry to the back unnoticed.

  Ellie stumbled, and Holly grabbed for her arm, steadying her.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” cried Tammy. “Sorry, Ellie. I didn’t mean to scare you…. So, how are you?”

  It had been a week since the end of the Fall Fashion Show; nearly two weeks since Tammy had spoken to Ellie in Harwell’s, had spoken to her at all.

  “I’m fine.”

  Next to Ellie, Holly shifted from foot to foot. “Hi, Tammy,” she said.

  “Hi, um …”

  “Holly,” said Holly.

  “Oh. Yeah.”

  “How’s your—how’s Doris?” asked Tammy.

  Ellie peered around Tammy, needing a view of the front row. Donna, Maggie, and Nancy sat primly at their desks, eyes on Tammy and Ellie, their expressions unreadable, at least to Ellie.

  “She’s fine, too.”

  “Does she have any more modeling jobs coming up?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Holly shifted position again, then leaned back against the bulletin board, knocking two paper oak leaves to the floor.

  “Oh,” said Tammy, with the briefest of glances at Holly. “You can go.”

  “What?”

  “You can go.” Tammy inclined her head toward the back of the room.

  “It’s okay, Holly,” Ellie murmured, and Holly walked backward to her desk, not taking her eyes off of Ellie.

  “So what were you saying?” Tammy cocked her head at Ellie.

  “That Doris isn’t going to be doing any more modeling. That I know of. But she’s going to be the Harvest Queen in the parade.”

  Tammy clutched at Ellie’s hands. “Parade? What parade?”

  “The Chamber of Commerce decided to hold a Harvest Parade this year. On the weekend before Thanksgiving. Doris is going to ride on the last float as the Harvest Queen.”

  “Wow. Is that like a beauty queen or something?”

  “I guess.”

  “Man, that is so cool.”

  The door to Room 12 opened then, and Mr. Pierce entered just as the bell rang.

  “I’d better go,” said Ellie.

  “Wait. Sit at our lunch table today, okay?” Tammy glanced at the sparrows behind her.

  “Well—” said Ellie.

  “Ladies?” said Mr. Pierce, raising his eyebrows at Ellie and Tammy.

  “See you at lunch!” Tammy called as she slid into her seat.

  Ellie ran to the back of the room.

  “What was all that?” Holly whispered.

  But Mr. Pierce was peering at Ellie over his reading glasses.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Ellie whispered back.

  That morning Ellie bit all of her fingernails down as far as she could without making anything bleed. She wished Tammy had been more specific when issuing her invitation. Did she and the other girls actually want Ellie to join them for lunch, or had they merely asked her to sit at their table? It was a big table. Ellie could sit at it and still be several seats away from Tammy. A person had to be very, very careful when dealing with girls like Tammy.

  Furthermore, had the invitation been extended to Ellie alone, or could Holly go, too? Ellie didn’t want to bring along an uninvited guest, but she couldn’t imagine deserting Holly. She also couldn’t imagine what might happen if she turned down an invitation from the sparrows. A person didn’t do that. A person didn’t want to risk making the sparrows mad.

  Ten minutes until the bell would ring signaling lunchtime for the sixth graders, and there was not a thing left to nibble at on Ellie’s fingers. One pinkie actually was bleeding now, and her heart was racing. She had spent math period composing a note to Holly explaining her dilemma, but then had been too nervous to pass it to her.

  She kept her eyes on the clock. Eight minutes until lunch. Five minutes until lunch. Four—

  The door to Ellie’s classroom burst open, and Doris swept through it, followed by Albert and Marie, who were looking dazed.

  “Darling!” Doris cried, and Ellie realized she was addressing Mr. Pierce.

  Ellie heard a giggle and kept her eyes trained on her brother and sister, standing hesitantly by the classroom door.

  Mr. Pierce, who had been grading papers at his desk, stood up quickly, wiping his hands on his pants. “Mrs. Dingman. What a pleasant surprise,” he said, extending a hand. Then he added, “What brings you here?”

  “Circumstances,” Doris began, “force me to take my children away immediately on important family business.”

  “Oh. I see. There’s nothing wrong, is there?” asked Mr. Pierce.

  “No, no, no. Not at all. And Eleanor will be back in school on Monday. I promise.”

  Mr. Pierce looked toward the back of the room. “All right, Ell—Eleanor. Gather up your things. Take your reading book with you and read chapter eleven over the weekend, please.”

  Ellie nodded. As she rummaged in her desk, she whispered to Holly, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you have to ride the bus without me this afternoon. Sit with Allan, okay? I’ll call you later.” She grabbed her notebook and reading book, then reached back in her desk, grabbed the undelivered note to Holly, crumpled it up, and stuffed it in her pocket. “’Bye,” she said, and slid out of her seat.

  Ellie allowed herself a quick glance at the front row. Tammy was gazing adoringly at Doris. When she caught sight of Ellie, she gave her a wave and mouthed, “See you on Monday.”

  “Ta-ta!” Doris called as she pushed Ellie, Albert, and Marie through the door ahead of her.

  “Ta-ta!” Ellie heard Tammy reply.

  The Buick sped through the streets of Spectacle toward Witch Tree Lane.

  “Doris, what’s going on?” Ellie asked.

  “Darlings, the most wonderful opportunity has come up,” she replied as she careened around a corner.

  “Slow down!” yelped Albert.

  “You know Circus?” asked Doris.

  “The circus?” said Marie.

  “No. Circus. Those restaurants on the highway? The ones with the elephants on the signs?”

  “And the big c
lowns out in front?” asked Ellie.

  “Yes!” said Doris, temporarily removing both of her hands from the steering wheel.

  “They have good hot dogs,” said Marie. “Mrs. Lauchaire took Domi and me to one once.”

  “Well,” said Doris, “Circus is looking for a Circus Girl. You know, to make TV commercials for them, and to pose for new signs and things. And since Circus is a local chain, the auditions are going to be held in several New York towns. One of them, Magnolia, is just two hours from here. And Magnolia is right near where I grew up.”

  “Near Baton?” asked Ellie.

  “Near Nan and Poppy?” asked Marie.

  “Yes,” said Doris. “And the audition is tomorrow. So we’re going to stay at Nan and Poppy’s. We’ll drive there this afternoon.”

  “Dad, too?” asked Albert, at the same time that Ellie said, “Why are we going?”

  “Because your father just got a job with a crew way over by Charleston, and he won’t be home until next week. So off we go!” said Doris gaily.

  “We’re really going to stay at Nan and Poppy’s?” asked Ellie. She knew that for some reason Doris didn’t get along with her parents and preferred not to see them. In fact, Ellie had met Doris’s parents only once, when she was five, and remembered a skinny man and woman who hugged her a lot and told her she was beautiful. Albert had been three then and Marie just a baby, and they didn’t remember their grandparents at all.

  “Yup,” said Doris. “We’re really going to stay with them. It’ll be the most convenient for everybody.”

  You mean for you, Ellie thought.

  “Hurry now,” Doris said as she wheeled the Buick into the Dingmans’ driveway and jerked it to a stop. “Get your things packed. I want to leave as soon as possible.”

  “What should I pack?” asked Marie. And then she added, “Do I have a suitcase?”

  “Oh, just use a paper bag,” said Doris. “Eleanor, help her. I’ve got to call your father, and then go get my things ready. I better bring all my makeup and, let’s see, probably three changes of clothes …”

  “Ellie, can you help me, too?” asked Albert.

  “Sure,” Ellie replied, and headed for the kitchen, where she found a pile of grocery bags.

  The Dingmans were back in the Buick in less than an hour. Doris was at the wheel, a pink traveling kerchief covering her hair. On the seat next to her were her bags, her makeup kit, the box containing her hair rollers, and another box containing her hair dryer, the plastic hose emerging from it like an exhaust pipe.

  In a row in the backseat sat the Dingman children and Kiss. At their feet were four paper bags. Ellie had packed them—one for her, for Albert, for Marie, and a small one containing Kiss’s kibble, her blanket, her leash, and two toys. Doris had forgotten about Kiss until she saw Albert coaxing her into the car.

  “What’s Kiss doing?” asked Doris.

  “Coming with us,” replied Albert. “We can’t leave her here.”

  “Oh, no. Of course not.”

  They sped down Route 27, away from Spectacle. Doris turned the radio on full blast and sang along loudly, just slightly off-key. The Dingman children sat silently in the backseat. Ellie gazed out the window. She watched the hills and woods give way to fields and isolated homes and tiny farming communities. Kiss’s eyes began to close, and she fell asleep in Ellie’s lap, her nose resting on her wrist. On either side of Ellie, her brother and sister grew drowsy, too, and Ellie felt them slide into her, their heads heavy against her shoulders.

  The tractors and silos and stubby-looking fields began to rise and fall giddily as Ellie drifted into a dream. They disappeared and were replaced by a beach where she and Holly lay reading on a blanket while Tammy, Maggie, and Mr. Pierce played Marco Polo in the water.

  “Marco!” shouted Tammy.

  “Polo!” the others replied.

  “Marco!” shouted Tammy.

  “Here we are!” called Doris.

  Ellie struggled awake. Two faces, an old man’s and an old woman’s, were peering through the car windows at the Dingmans.

  “What on earth?” said the woman.

  “Ta-da!” cried Doris. “I’m going to be the new Circus Girl!”

  Ellie shook the sleep from her head as Albert and Marie straightened up groggily, and Kiss awoke, startled, and erupted in frantic barking.

  “Kiss! Shhh!” said Albert.

  “Darlene, is that really you?” asked the man outside the car.

  “It’s really me,” replied Doris.

  The woman had jumped back as Kiss lunged at the window, but the man circled around to the driver’s side, opened Doris’s door, and leaned in to kiss her. “Well now, well now,” he said.

  The man was tall and thin, and so was the woman, and they reminded Ellie of the people in a painting she had once seen. An old man and an old woman standing stiffly next to each other, tidily dressed, the man holding a pitchfork. They were old and solemn, even stern, and dressed in simple clothes. Ellie had assumed they were husband and wife, although who knew? Maybe they were brother and sister, or old friends. But something about them said husband and wife—two people who had faced a difficult life together. Just the way something about Nan and Poppy said husband and wife, even if you didn’t know them.

  The difference between the couple in the painting and Nan and Poppy was that Nan and Poppy were lively and smiling and bustling. And scruffy. When Poppy stuck his head in the car, Ellie could see that he was wearing only a sleeveless T-shirt and dusty old dungarees, and that his sparse hair was sticking out in all directions from his head. And Nan’s hair, even at this hour of the afternoon, was tightly wound around curlers, which were partially hidden by a hairnet. She was dressed in a house-coat, and on her feet, which Ellie had seen when Nan had jumped away from Kiss, were striped terrycloth scuffies. Her veiny legs were bare, no socks or stockings.

  “Well, I never,” said Nan, tentatively approaching the car again, now that Kiss had stopped barking.

  “Doris! Didn’t you tell them we were coming?” exclaimed Ellie.

  “Oh, darling, I didn’t have time. Anyway, they don’t mind.”

  “Mind a visit from our own grandbabies?” said Nan. “Of course we don’t mind. Come on out here and let me take a look at you,” she went on as Ellie, Albert, and Marie fumbled for their paper bags. “Now, I’m your Nan, and this here is your Poppy. You probably don’t remember us, but you did meet us once, when you were little bitties.”

  “I remember you,” said Ellie shyly. She reached across Marie to open the door. “Go on out,” she whispered. “Go hug her. Leave your bag here. I’ll hold on to Kiss.”

  Marie slid slowly out of the car and stood uncertainly by the door. Ellie stuck her foot out and nudged the back of Marie’s leg. Marie looked desperately over her shoulder at Ellie, then reached out and gave her grandmother the briefest of hugs.

  “Oh, now, that’s not a hug,” said Nan. “This is.” She enfolded Marie in her arms and squeezed her so tightly that Ellie heard Marie emit a small squeak.

  Nan stuck her head in the car then and extended her hand toward Kiss, who sniffed it, then gave it a lick. “Ah. He’s my friend now,” said Nan. “The rest of you come on out of there and let me look at you, too.”

  Ellie let go of Kiss, who hopped out of the car and began sniffing the patchy lawn by the driveway. Then she climbed stiffly out of the car, pulling Albert after her. The Dingman children stood in a row, facing their grandparents.

  “Well,” said Nan. “Eleanor, Albert, and Marie. I’d know you anywhere. Look how beautiful you are, just look.”

  Ellie actually did look. She looked at Albert and Marie, their eyes puffy from their nap, their hair snarled where it had been smushed against Ellie’s shoulders. There were large holes in the knees of Albert’s blue jeans, and something white and crusty just below the collar of Marie’s shirt. Then Ellie looked down at herself. She wasn’t quite as monochromatic now that her summer tan was fading, but she was as
skinny as ever, with droopy kneesocks and scuffed penny loafers, the penny missing from the left one.

  For a moment, Ellie took in the tableau her family made: two grandparents smiling fondly at three sleepy kids, Doris hovering in the background, uncertain and impatient. And then Ellie’s stomach growled so loudly that Kiss looked at her in alarm, and Nan exclaimed, “My word! Whose stomach is talking? Come on inside and I’ll fix you something to eat. Let’s see, what time is it, anyway? Why, it’s after three. What did you all have for lunch?”

  “Nothing,” spoke up Albert.

  “And we passed two Circuses before I fell asleep,” said Marie.

  “Oops,” said Doris. “I guess I forgot about lunch.” She turned to her parents. “I always try to keep my figure slim and trim. Nobody wants a fat star,” she said gaily.

  “Don’t mean the children need to be on diets, though,” said Poppy.

  Doris pulled the last of her things out of the front seat of the car and slammed the door shut with extra force. “Well, let’s go inside,” she said. “I bet you kids would like to see my old bedroom.”

  “Could we see it after we eat?” asked Albert. “I’m starving.”

  “Albert,” said Doris, a warning in her voice.

  “No, no, that’s all right. We already offered,” said Nan. “We’ll have sandwiches now, and a big dinner later. You better get to the store for some extras, Father. Maybe a roast, and we’ll need potatoes and another vegetable, and I better check my baking supplies.”

  “Righto,” said Poppy. “Anybody need help with their bags?”

  “I could use a hand,” said Doris, who was standing amid her boxes and suitcases, clutching the hair dryer. “Eleanor, grab your things from the backseat.”

  Ellie retrieved the grocery bags from the floor of the car.

  “Where are your suitcases?” Poppy asked her.

  Ellie shrugged. “We didn’t need much,” she said. “This is just for a couple of nights.”