by P. J. Night
But Whitney wasn’t budging.
“I can only do it at my house. Sorry,” she said.
The two girls looked at each other, and Katie knew she would be the one to give in.
“Okay,” Katie relented. “My dad will pick us up at Harvest Fair and drop us off at your house then.”
“What’s the matter?” Whitney was seeing on Katie’s face what Katie was feeling in her gut.
“What? Nothing,” Katie lied.
“Come on, I know you,” Whitney said. “Tell me what’s bothering you!”
Katie immediately felt comforted—Whitney did know her pretty well by now. It was so nice having a new friend. It didn’t replace Amy, or make that hurt any less, but it made a difference. She took a deep breath.
“Okay, but don’t be mad,” she began.
“I promise I won’t,” Whitney said solemnly.
“I got kind of freaked out last time I was at your house,” Katie said in a low voice. It felt like a huge weight off her chest to finally tell Whitney this.
“Kind of?” Whitney said. “I’d say ‘totally freaked out’ is a more precise phrase.” But by the way Whitney was smiling, Katie knew she was teasing good-naturedly. “And how did you pack up that fast? You went out in a blur.”
Katie felt herself blush. “Um, I was freaked out by the dolls. I had crazy dreams, and the dolls, I don’t know, they just spooked me. I guess I just never see that many dolls in one place. It just seems weird. I put all my dolls away last year.”
Whitney nodded patiently. She didn’t seem mad at all. She seemed happy that Katie was opening up to her. So Katie continued, “Okay, you said you wouldn’t get mad, so here’s the million-dollar question: What’s up with all those dolls?”
Whitney answered Katie’s question as if she were a parent answering a curious child’s question about, say, what gravity was or why there was traffic on the highway.
“Well, since I’ve moved around so much, I like to collect one very special doll from everywhere I’ve lived,” Whitney began.
That made sense to Katie. She collected sand from all the different beaches she’d ever been to, put it in little jars with labels, and put them on a shelf in a row. They were like little memories of each place. Sometimes just looking at them put her in a good mood. She’d even alphabetized them.
“And also, my dolls have always been there for me. They’re all my very best friends,” Whitney added.
Katie got that part for sure. She got it a lot more now than she did before Amy disappeared and blew her off. She wished it was that easy for her to substitute a best friend.
“Right,” Katie said. “Okay, I get it. That’s cool. Really.”
“You’re my best friend here, you know that?” Whitney said with a big grin. Katie couldn’t help but grin back.
“So you’ll sleep over again?”
“Absolutely.” Katie nodded for emphasis.
“Oh, goody!” Whitney said. Katie thought it was cute how Whitney had some really old-fashioned expressions. Katie would never say “goody.” But when Whitney said it, she really meant it. Goody.
“I’ll rush home right after school tomorrow to prepare the surprise,” Whitney said. “So then you can pick me up and we’ll go to the fair. Oh, goody.”
Katie sat in the car with her dad and looked at her nails. Her end-of-summer manicure was now gone without a trace. Yesterday she had picked off the last bit—the whitecaps on the waves on her pinkie fingers—after deciding to go to Harvest Fair with Whitney. To look at the whitecaps and think of how Amy was supposed to be there, giving her the birthday manicure, was only making her sadder and madder.
Now she studied her bare fingernails in the late afternoon sun as she and her dad drove to pick up Whitney at her house and go to Harvest Fair.
Whitney was waiting for them on her doorstep, and when she saw their car, she stood up, waved, and jumped up and down.
“Well, she seems happy to see you,” Katie’s dad said, and smiled over at Katie.
Whitney practically skipped over to the car as it pulled into the driveway. She was wearing an orange hat and scarf with a brown corduroy jacket.
“Hi, Whitney,” Katie’s dad said as she got into the car and closed the door behind her. “You wore the right colors for the fair, I see.”
Whitney had a big smile on her face. “Hi, Mr. Walsh. I figured this was the color scheme for the night.”
As they arrived at the fair, Katie’s dad said, “Well, you girls are going to have a great time. And Katie is the right person to accompany you to your first Harvest Fair, Whitney. She’s a real pro.”
“I can’t wait,” Whitney said.
“You picked a good year to start,” Katie’s dad told Whitney, stopping the car near the entrance. “It’s Katie’s first time going to Harvest Fair on her own! Last year we stuck around to chaperone, but this year we know you girls are old enough to handle yourselves at this hoedown.” He chuckled, and after the girls had left the car, he waved good-bye.
“Bye, almost-teen daughter!” he called gleefully after Katie. Katie giggled and pretended she didn’t know him.
And soon she and Whitney were at the ticket booth, buying a roll of tickets to use for rides, food, and games, and planning what they would do first. Katie didn’t want to be bossy but couldn’t help suggesting a schedule. She really did feel like an expert, and she felt responsible for Whitney having a great time at her first Harvest Fair.
“Candy apple booth to get good sugar energy, giant slide, vote for pumpkin carving contest winners, look at the prizewinning apple desserts, go into the haunted house if we dare, play Whack-a-Mole, go on Ferris wheel, go feed the goats and horses, split a fried dough because you’ve never had one before, watch the fireworks, then get deep-fried Oreos, then call my dad to pick us up. Sound good?” Katie said, counting each activity on a finger, until she ran out of fingers.
“Sounds perfect,” Whitney said. “Let’s do it.”
Whitney respectfully followed Katie’s advice at the candy apple booth, creating exactly the same ridiculously sugary confection as Katie: first a thin layer of caramel, then two dips of chocolate, then, while still wet, a dip in a big bowl of M&M’s. They laughed as they tried to get their mouths around their enormous creations.
Then they shared a burlap bag on the giant slide and Katie sat in front, like a responsible guide should. They went down it a few times. It was fun to be scared together.
In the contest barn, they had the same opinions about which pumpkin carvings were the best, and voted the same. Then they gazed at the apple pies, apple crumbles, apple crisps, apple cakes, apple streusels, apple turnovers, and apple dumplings, all displayed with their blue ribbons.
When they arrived at the haunted house, though, Katie noticed an anxious look on Whitney’s face.
“What’s the matter?” she asked Whitney.
“Nothing,” Whitney said. So they handed the man two tickets each and went through the metal turnstile that was the entrance to the haunted house.
The first part of the house was a little dark room. Its walls, ceiling, and floors were all painted black. There were little Day-Glo spiderwebs painted on all the surfaces, and some skulls and crossbones. The main thing about the room, though, was that the floor was shifting beneath them, which Katie found more weird than scary. She figured that if the rest of the house was similar, it wouldn’t be too scary at all.
Whitney was frozen in place, though, trying to keep her balance. Katie knew the truth. Whitney was scared, just like Katie and Amy had been scared in previous years.
“It’s okay, “Katie said gently as they both struggled to keep their footing on the wobbly floor. She could tell Whitney was embarrassed. “Listen to your gut. Do you want to keep going?”
Whitney looked at the moving ground and shook her head quickly.
“Then we shouldn’t!” Katie said lightly, and took Whitney’s arm. They marched right out of the haunted house the way they came in,
not caring that they were going in the wrong direction. Whitney looked paler than usual. Katie began skipping in the direction of the Whack-a-Mole game. “Forget about it. Let’s go whack some moles instead. It’s very satisfying!”
She could feel Whitney’s arm relax and didn’t even have to look at her face to know that that its usual color was returning and that she was smiling. Harvest Fair with Whitney was totally fun. Her birthday weekend was going just fine. She understood Whitney’s fear, and it felt good to be able to make it disappear. And maybe next year Whitney would be ready for the haunted house.
Katie and Whitney used giant rubber mallets to whack plastic moles into their holes. They each won little pencil-topper prizes. They rode the Ferris wheel and chanted to the operator: “Put us on the top! Put us on the top!” so that he would stop the Ferris wheel when they were at the very top of the ride. And he listened!
From the top, they could see the whole town. “There’s our school! There’s the firehouse!” Whitney cried, pointing. Katie smiled and nodded like a proud parent. Whitney’s enthusiasm reminded Katie of what a great town Westbrook was—something that was easy to forget if you’d lived there your entire life. Sometimes she complained about there not being very much to do, but what other town had a Harvest Fair this good?
Then they went to see the goats and horses, and bought little handfuls of food from a machine to feed them. They held out the food in their open palms as the animals gobbled it up happily. Katie loved the way the goats’ furry lips felt on her palm, but Whitney had never done it before and needed a little encouragement.
Soon it was time for “dinner”—fried dough with pizza sauce and Parmesan cheese that you shook on. Katie and Whitney split one because they were full from their crazy caramel apples, and they wanted to leave room for the deep-fried Oreos. They sat at the little picnic table and watched people walk by. Katie knew most people in town, and smiled and said hello to some of her parents’ friends.
Just before the first fireworks burst above, Whitney said, “It must be nice to know everyone in your town.”
BANG! There was the first silvery, shimmery firework. They both looked up.
“I guess,” Katie said. “I’ve never lived anywhere else.”
“I’m jealous,” Whitney admitted. BOOM!
“But you live here now too,” Katie reassured her. “And you’ll meet lots of people, and next year you’ll see them here and recognize them.”
“No, I won’t,” Whitney answered sadly. Her voice sounded like it was weighed down with lead. BANG! An orange-and-pink firework dissolved into glittery fairy dust above them.
“Sure you will,” said Katie distractedly. The fairy dust fireworks were her favorite. She couldn’t take her eyes off it.
“No, I really won’t. We’re moving again,” Whitney said. BOOM!
“What are you talking about?” Katie was sure she was joking.
“For real. My dad got a new job in London.” BANG!
Katie took her eyes off the sky and looked at Whitney’s face and knew Whitney was serious.
“Oh my God, Whitney,” Katie said in a voice that didn’t sound like hers. She couldn’t believe it. How could it be? She was finally starting to feel that Whitney was a real friend … maybe even a best friend. And she had just gotten here! How could she be moving again? What was the point of making new friends if they just kept moving? BOOM! Red, white, and blue fireworks shimmered down.
“When?” Katie finally asked.
“I don’t know. Pretty soon, I think,” Whitney said. They sat in silence and watched the rest of the fireworks show. Katie didn’t know what to say. Her heart sank to her stomach.
“Let’s get the Oreos and then call your dad,” Whitney finally said.
Back at Whitney’s, there were boxes everywhere. It was just like the last time she had visited. Katie was shocked. They were packing already? Had they even unpacked? How soon were they moving, anyway?
Whitney seemed to read Katie’s mind. “My dad doesn’t get a lot of notice when he has to change jobs,” she said. “But don’t worry. I have a plan. We’ll always be together.”
Katie couldn’t imagine what such a plan might be, given that Whitney would be moving to England, but she was touched by the sentiment. They started up the stairs to Whitney’s room. Once there, Katie rolled out her sleeping bag next to Whitney’s bed.
As Katie straightened out her sleeping bag, Whitney brushed confectioners’ sugar off Katie’s arm. The fried Oreos had been covered in the stuff, and their faces had been well dusted by the time they had finished those crazy snacks. The Oreos were dipped in a pastry batter, then deep fried, then sprinkled in sugar. When you bit into one, there was a “melted” Oreo inside. It was hard to imagine such a thing, but it was true. It was totally over the top. And the sugar had apparently gotten everywhere.
“Thanks.” Katie grinned. “Hi, Penelope,” she said to the doll she had chosen as her “friend” during the last sleepover. Whitney seemed so happy that Katie remembered Penelope’s name. All the dolls were in the same position as last time, and Whitney picked up one of them to show Katie.
“This one’s the mommy doll,” she said in a very serious tone.
Katie didn’t really get it. Weren’t they all supposed to be little girls? But then she noticed that this doll looked a little more adult. Her face was less round than the others, and her hair was styled in a way that reminded Katie of the way her own mom wore her hair, curled up on the ends and kind of puffed up on top.
“Cool,” Katie said.
“She doesn’t have to work like a lot of moms. She gets to stay home and play with all her friends,” Whitney continued. “She helps me throw tea parties.”
“Cool,” Katie said again. She felt much better about the dolls and wasn’t that creeped out by them anymore. She just didn’t really have anything to say about the mommy doll.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but Harvest Fair wore me out,” she told Whitney. “And I’m so sad about you moving. I seriously need to process this news! Can we just go to bed?” She couldn’t help but feel really, really bummed out. She just wanted her birthday eve to be over with already. Hopefully things would seem a little brighter tomorrow.
“Yeah, okay,” Whitney said. “And I have a new game to play once we turn in.”
When Whitney came out of the bathroom, Katie noticed that she was wearing a big T-shirt and boxers, not the nightgown like last time. She was pleased that she had become Whitney’s nighttime fashion role model.
“Okay, what’s the game?” Katie asked as they lay in the dark.
“It’s called Forever Candy,” Whitney said excitedly. “It’s a little bit like Forever Cheese, but it’s different. First we talk about all our favorite candies. Ready?”
“Yup,” Katie said. “I’m always ready for that. I love candy.”
“Me too,” said Whitney. “Okay, my favorites are gumdrops, Butterfinger, atomic fireballs, lemon drops, and black licorice.”
“Um, okay, my favorites are—” Katie began.
“Sorry,” Whitney interrupted. “I just thought of another. Laffy Taffy. Oh, and Milky Way. And Skittles.”
“Are you done?” Katie asked, and they both cracked up.
“I’m done, I promise,” Whitney said. “Now you go.”
“Okay. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and Snickers … and M&M’s … and Kit Kats,” Katie said.
“Are you done?” Whitney asked, and they cackled with laughter again.
“No,” Katie replied. “Not even close. Nestlé Crunch. How could I forget Nestlé Crunch? And … um … Tootsie Pops. And Nerds. Okay, I’m done.”
“Okay,” Whitney said. “Now. If you could eat only one of those favorite candies for the rest of your life, what would it be?”
“Are you kidding? What a horrible thing to have to choose!” Katie gasped.
“I know,” Whitney said, nodding sympathetically. “That’s what makes it a hard game. It’s harder than For
ever Cheese.”
“Okay. Snickers. And M&M’s.”
“Just one!” Whitney giggled.
“Okay, well, M&M’s, I guess,” Katie said. “Yeah. M&M’s. Ugh … that was hard!” She felt truly sad to think about never having those other candies again. Good thing it was only a game.
“Okay, mine is Butterfinger,” Whitney said. “But the game was easier for me. I’ve played it before, so I already had my forever candy picked out.”
Katie laughed, but she was already falling asleep. Whitney was softly humming “Rock-a-Bye Baby,” like she had on their first sleepover. It sounded so pretty, and Katie actually imagined being a baby being rocked. It was really nice that Whitney hummed her a lullaby. She felt good. It was going to be a good birthday tomorrow. But the good feeling quickly turned bittersweet as she remembered Whitney’s terrible announcement about moving. She had forgotten about it during the candy game.
On the other hand, she was happy she’d made a new friend. Maybe they would keep in better touch than she and Amy had. Maybe she’d even visit her someday in London. She was glad she had stopped being paranoid and creeped out by the doll stuff. She was really going to miss Whitney and wished that her promise to be together forever could be true, but she knew it couldn’t.
She was almost asleep when she heard it.
Her name. Being chanted. Again.
Katie, Katie, Katie.
She squeezed her eyes tight and burrowed down in her sleeping bag. But the chanting only got louder. Katie, Katie, Katie.
No sleeping bag in the world could have protected her from what was about to happen.
Then she heard Whitney get out of bed.
Katie had to force herself to open her eyes. She could barely see, but her eyes adjusted to the dark. The night-light wasn’t on tonight, unfortunately.
Whitney was sitting directly in front of several of the dolls, in that cross-legged “crisscross applesauce” position she’d used when they first sat down and played with dolls together. Her hands were on her hips, and she was leaning forward, as if having a private conversation with them. She looked like a parent or teacher scolding a child in public, trying not to cause a scene or humiliate the child, but very angry and frustrated nonetheless.
