We met Justin and Alana outside the library. Alana was cute with the red cape on. She was holding a little basket too. And Justin looked pretty comical with his mother’s cooking pot on his head. My sombrero looked a whole lot better than his pot.
Ms. Walsh was standing in front of the library, waiting for me. She was dressed in an old-fashioned outfit, and her skirts reached the ground. She jumped up and down and clapped her hands with excitement when she saw us.
My father parked the pickup and arranged the plank that we use as a ramp for the llamas. The actual program wasn’t scheduled to begin until one o’clock, but there were already people gathering outside the library, watching us. I led Ira Allen down the ramp and then Ethan Allen. I handed Ira Allen over to Justin. He was going to stand outside the front entrance with the llama. Even though Ms. Walsh was still a bit nervous about the idea, the plan was that Ethan Allen would actually go inside the library.
My father was about to place the plank against the front steps of the building, but Ms. Walsh stopped him. “We’ve added a handicap access during the renovation,” she pointed out. “It’s also an excellent llama access.”
The library celebration was like Fourth of July, the flea market, and the Farmer’s Day Fair all rolled into one. Everyone I ever knew in town was there. After all, when else would they get a free piece of cake made by some of those expensive tourist inns and restaurants?
I was so proud of Ethan Allen. Many people posed to have their photos taken standing next to him, and he didn’t soil the new library carpeting (which my father had donated at cost). Everyone was curious to see a llama up close. And it wasn’t only the kids. One man came over and started asking me a load of questions.
By now I’m a real expert, so I could tell him everything he wanted to know, like how llamas are mostly found in the Andes of South America but that now there are many llama farms throughout the United States. “There are hundreds of llamas in Vermont these days,” I informed him.
The man thanked me and shook my hand, and someone flashed our picture. There were so many pictures taken that I didn’t even remember that moment until the next day. It was printed on the front page of the Brattleboro Reformer. It shows me, in the sombrero, holding the rope attached to Ethan Allen’s halter. My right hand is shaking the man’s hand. I didn’t know it at the time, but that man was the governor of the state of Vermont.
I saw the picture at school. The principal came in with the newspaper and held it up for everyone in my class to see. In the evening my dad came home from work holding a stack of newspapers. He wants to mail them to all our relatives. I must confess, it’s pretty exciting to see your face on the front page of the newspaper. I guess the governor wasn’t so impressed. It’s happened to him before. But for me and Ethan Allen, it was a first.
Even though her picture had been in the paper less than two months before, Alana also was very excited. “The Brattleboro Reformer is a daily paper,” she exclaimed. “It’s much more important than a weekly.”
Justin was a little disappointed that he and Ira Allen didn’t get their picture in the paper too. But he was distracted by an interesting piece of information he had picked up the day of the library reopening. He’d heard someone talking about how there’d once been a town where Lake Whitingham is now. The lake was really a manmade reservoir, and to build it, they’d flooded over the entire community. As far as Justin was concerned, if ever there was a place to go hunting for ghosts, it was down by the lake. So I know what he’s planning for us to do during the coming summer.
But before then there are other things happening. The fifth grade is going to take a trip to Boston. We’re going to see the Old North Church, where a light was placed during the American Revolution to let Paul Revere know whether the British were coming by land or by sea. And one day soon Alana is going to come over and help me gather all the dandelions on our property. She offered to do it if I’d help her pick them around her home. Then she wants to help my mother cook dandelion jelly, so she can learn how to make it too.
“It’s so delicious, and it looks like bottled gold,” she said.
You can be sure I’ll never tell her what Justin called it.
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