Daphne's Book (14 page)

"Don't look now, but she's following us. I knew she wouldn't stay there by herself," Daphne whispered.

By the time we reached the edge of the woods, Hope had gotten over her sulks. "Don't go home yet, Jessica," she said. "Come with us and see the kitten. He's almost big enough to go home with you."

"Not quite," Daphne said. "He should stay with his mother for another three weeks. Why don't you wait here, Jessica? I'll go get him."

"Can I stay with her?" Hope took my hand and smiled up at me.

"Of course." Daphne ran off across the field, and Hope launched into a long Baby Mouse story, complete with sound effects and a funny little dance.

Just as Hope was beginning her account of Baby Mouse's escape from Big Ike, the meanest cat in the whole world, she stopped jumping about and pointed toward the house. "Look, here comes Daphne."

We watched Daphne running toward us, her hair flying. She looked worried, and before she was halfway across the field, she started shouting. "She's not there, Hope, she's not there!"

"Callie ran away? Did she take the kittens?" Hope cried.

"Not Gillie—Grandmother!" Daphne stopped, gasping for breath. "I went in to see if she was awake, and she wasn't in bed. I looked all over the house, but she wasn't anywhere."

"Where would she go?" I asked.

"To look for Daddy," Hope said.

"Of course!" Daphne said. "Where does she go when she takes you out to look for him?"

"I'll show you." Hope ran back toward the house, and we followed her. Taking a path through the woods behind the barn, we came to an old road, just two ruts, really, leading away across a field.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Daphne stopped and scanned the landscape for a sign of her grandmother.

Hope nodded. "Sometimes we walk real far, and then Grandmother gets lost and I have to show her how to get home."

Daphne sighed and squeezed Hope's hand. Avoiding the puddles left from last week's bad weather, we walked silently, hoping to see Mrs. Woodleigh around each bend in the road.

It was obvious that we had entered some sort of unofficial junkyard. All around us were rusting castoffs. Gap-doored refrigerators, wrecked cars stripped to their frames, and gutted television sets lay scattered in the weeds as if they'd fallen from the sky.

Uneasily I glanced over my shoulder, half-expecting to see someone following us, but I saw no one. Just the empty road, its puddles shining in the sunlight.

"We should have brought bags with us," Hope said. "Look at all these cans and bottles."

"We can come back sometime," Daphne said. "After we find Grandmother."

"There she is, I see her!" Hope pointed ahead. "She's talking to Daddy."

Mrs. Woodleigh was sitting on an overturned washing machine, her back to us. Her whole body was tense, and she was gesturing excitedly. "You must come now, John!" she was saying. "I don't care what they say, we need you, we need you!" Stretching out her hands to someone or something only she could see, she didn't notice Daphne and Hope hurrying toward her.

I hung back, afraid to go near Mrs. Woodleigh. She looked wilder, crazier than usual. Her hair blew in the breeze, and her voice swept loudly across the field, as harsh and rasping as a crow's. Over her bathrobe she wore her old red plaid lumber jacket, and on her feet were a pair of large, untied workboots. Between the frayed hem of her nightgown and the top of the boots, I could see her bare legs. They were thin and pale and splotched with veins.

"Grandmother!" Hope threw her arms around the old woman. "Why didn't you wait for me?"

Startled, Mrs. Woodleigh pushed Hope away and heaved herself to her feet with great effort. "See what you've done!"
she cried, her voice shrill with grief. "You've frightened him away!"

Turning toward the empty field, Mrs. Woodleigh shrieked, "John, John, come back, come back!" She spun about, this way and that way, her face filled with despair. "Don't leave me, please don't go away again!"

Weeping, she struck at Hope, lost her balance, and fell to her knees. As Daphne rushed to help her up, Mrs. Woodleigh grabbed her and shook her. "You wicked girl, see what you've done? He was about to take my hand and come home, but you scared him away." Clinging to Daphne, she began to cry. "Why won't he stay, why won't he? Wasn't I a good mother to him? I tried, I did my best, why does he hate me? I need him, I need my son."

Daphne helped her to her feet. "It's all right, Grandmother, it's all right. I'm here. I can take care of you."

"No, no. What can you do? You're just a child. We need John." Mrs. Woodleigh shook her head, weeping. "If only he'd come back to us."

"Let's go home, Grandmother. It's going to be dark soon." Daphne gently pulled Mrs. Woodleigh toward the house.

"No, you go. Take the baby and go home. I'll wait here for John. He'll come back, I know he will." Mrs. Woodleigh tried to sit down on the washing machine.

"Please, Grandmother, please. We have to go home." Daphne's voice quavered.

"Grandmother, I'll give you till I count to ten, and then I'm going to leave you here," Hope said. "One, two, three," she counted as slowly as I had up on the rocks.

"Come on, we'll have tea and build up the fire, and I'll read you the next chapter of
Great Expectations.
" Daphne took her grandmother's hand. "It's getting cold, and the moon's out already." She pointed to a small crescent hanging low in the late afternoon sky.

"Four, five, six," counted Hope.

Mrs. Woodleigh looked from one to the other, shaking her head, her face confused. "I get so upset sometimes," she said softly. "I can't understand why they won't let him come home. I know he wants to." Slowly she walked along next to Daphne, allowing her to lead her as if she were the child and Daphne the adult.

Keeping well behind, I followed them back to the house. Mrs. Woodleigh hadn't noticed me, and I didn't want her to see me now. By the time Daphne led Mrs. Woodleigh up the back steps, the sun had set and the sky was washed with pale pink at the horizon. The warmth of the day was gone, and I shivered.

Through the kitchen window, I saw Daphne, a candle in her hand, talking to her grandmother. A few seconds later, the back door opened and Daphne slipped out.

"I just wanted to say good-bye," she whispered. "I'm sorry it's so late. I know you don't like to walk home after dark."

"It's all right." I stared at her pale face. "Is she going to be okay now?"

"I think so."

"I wish you could come home with me. Have dinner and stay overnight. You and Hope both."

Daphne sighed. "I wish I could, too, but you know I can't."

The door opened and Mrs. Woodleigh stepped out on the porch. "Is that you, John?" she called.

"It's just me, Grandmother." Daphne ran up the porch steps and took her grandmother's arm. "Let's go back inside now, okay? The water will be hot enough for your tea soon."

Then the door shut and I was alone in the dark. Fearfully I ran away from the house, down the driveway, toward Cook's. Lane and home.

Before I'd gotten halfway to Adelphia, a car picked me up in the glare of its headlights and pulled off the road. "Jessica!" Ed shouted.

Weak-kneed with relief, I got into his car. "I was at Daphne's and it got dark all of a sudden. I'm sorry."

"Your mother was worried to death." Ed frowned at me.

"I'm sorry," I said again and burst into tears.

"Now, now." He patted my shoulder. "Don't cry. It's all right."

Starting the car, he turned toward home. I was glad to let Daphne's house slip away behind us in the dark. I wanted to forget about Mrs. Woodleigh and John. I didn't want to think about Daphne and Hope sitting around the table, shivering in the candlelight. I just wanted to go home and have dinner and maybe play a game of Clue with Mom and Ed and Josh.

W
E ONLY HAD
a half-day of school on Wednesday. I had planned to walk out to Daphne's house, but the weather had turned cold and nasty again, the way it often does in March. As I headed slowly away from the school, trying to decide whether I wanted to walk all the way out to Cook's Lane in the cold, I saw Tracy waving at me.

Since she was by herself, I caught up with her. She had acted a lot friendlier in the last couple of weeks, and I thought she had gotten over being mad at me.

"Where have you been lately?" Tracy asked me.

"Just around," I said nonchalantly.

She looked at me closely. "Are you still taking Daphne her homework?"

I nodded.

"You know, I heard Mr. O'Brien and Miss Kaufmann talking about her yesterday. I think they're going to send somebody out there to see what's going on."

"What do you mean?"

Tracy shrugged. "Well, her grandmother never got a tutor for her, I heard Mr. O'Brien say, and she's missed a month of school."

"Daphne can't help being sick, and she's smart. She's done all the homework I've brought her."

"But what about her tests? She's missed a lot of tests." Tracy stopped and put her hand on my arm. "She's not really sick anyway, is she? I haven't forgotten what her little sister said in the ladies' room about Daphne being so smart she didn't need to go to school."

I frowned. "You don't understand, Tracy. There's a lot you don't know about Daphne. If you did, you'd feel sorry for her."

"What do you know?" Tracy stared at me as if she were really interested.

"Just things." I stared back at her, remembering my promise not to tell.

"Hey, Tracy!" Michelle and Sherry hurried up the path toward us. "We're going to the village center. Want to come?"

"Sure." Tracy looked at me. "Why don't you come with us, Jess?"

Not wanting to walk away all by myself, I nodded. I still felt awfully uncomfortable around Michelle and Sherry, but I was glad that Tracy had invited me.

"Seen Daffy lately?" Sherry asked me.

"Her name is Daphne," I said coldly.

"Oh, pardon me!" Sherry rolled her eyes at Michelle, and they both started laughing.

"Look," Tracy said, pointing at a couple walking across the Softball field. "There's Keith with Shannon. Didn't I tell you he broke up with Lissie?"

"What a jerk!" Sherry narrowed her eyes and scowled at Keith.

"What does he see in her? Lissie's much prettier. And a whole lot nicer." Michelle frowned.

"Shannon's a dog if you ask me," Sherry said. "And she's fat."

For several minutes, they ripped Keith and Shannon to shreds, and I walked along feeling safe for the time being. I caught Tracy's eye once and smiled at her, thanking her silently for coming to my rescue.

When we got to the village center, we went to the gift shop and browsed around, looking at jewelry and reading funny greeting cards. A saleslady kept following us, asking if we needed help. From the way she looked at us, I think she must have thought we were shoplifters. She seemed disappointed when we left without stealing anything.

"Come on, let's go look at makeup in the Food Barn," Michelle said. "I need some new lip gloss." She led us into the grocery store.

While Michelle and Sherry went off to find the lip gloss, Tracy and I walked over to the candy section. I was trying to choose between a Snickers bar and a pack of Reese's Pieces when I heard a familiar voice in the next aisle.

"But I love olives," Mrs. Woodleigh was saying, her voice rising in a quavering wail. "Don't put them back. Please let me have them, just this one time."

"We can't afford them, Grandmother. We need peanut butter, and we don't have enough money for both," I heard Daphne say.

"I hate peanut butter." Mrs. Woodleigh was whining like a child. "I don't want to spend my money on something I hate. I want the olives!"

Tracy looked at me. "Did you hear that?" She sounded a little scared.

I nodded and picked up the Snickers bar, no longer really caring what kind of candy I bought. "Come on, let's go," I said to Tracy. "I promised my mother I'd do the laundry and start dinner before she came home." I started walking toward the express line, hoping we could get out of the store before Tracy saw Daphne and her grandmother.

"Wait a minute, Jess. I haven't decided what I want yet." Tracy sounded annoyed.

"I've got to go home, Tracy." Getting more and more nervous, I edged toward the checkout line.

"I won't let you put the olives back!" Mrs. Woodleigh shouted, still out of sight. "John may be here for dinner, and he loves olives!" Her voice rose above a loud Muzak arrangement of "All You Need Is Love."

Picking up her candy bar, Tracy walked toward me. "Maybe we should get out of here. That person sounds crazy."

Just as we caught up with Michelle and Sherry at the lipstick display, we heard a terrible crash and the sound of breaking glass.

"Now see what you made me do!" Mrs. Woodleigh screamed.

The store manager left his little office and headed for Aisle 4, along with just about everyone else in the whole store. Michelle said, "What's going on?" and followed the crowd.

"Come on, Tracy!" Grabbing her arm, Sherry towed Tracy along behind her. "Let's go see the olive lady."

Reluctantly I followed them, but when we got to Aisle 4 I ducked behind a display rack filled with pantyhose. Hoping I wouldn't be seen, I peeped cautiously around the edge of the rack. There was Mrs. Woodleigh, ranting and raving about the olives, her big work boots planted firmly in a sea of debris.

"She made me do it, it was all her fault!" Mrs. Woodleigh pointed at Daphne, who was frantically trying to gather up the olives and broken glass littering the floor.

Hope clung to the grocery cart, her eyes wide with fright. "It wasn't Daphne's fault, it wasn't!" she cried shrilly, but no one paid any attention to her.

"It's all right, ma'am, it's all right. There's nothing to worry about," the manager said to Mrs. Woodleigh. "Just calm down. Why, anybody can have an accident. It happens all the time." He bared his teeth in a tight little smile and patted Mrs. Woodleigh's arm.

A man carrying a mop and bucket pushed his way through the crowd of shoppers gathered around the Woodleighs. As Daphne moved out of his way, she looked straight at me. Sure that she was about to speak to me, I shook my head and stepped back behind the pantyhose display.