Heart of the Wilderness (24 page)

“May I introduce myself,” he said as they walked. “I’m Carl Mandrake.”

Kendra nodded, aware of that fact.

“So how are you enjoying the class?” he continued.

Kendra dipped her head slightly. She always loved literature. Yet if she were to be honest, she was not overly impressed with the professor, so she wasn’t sure how to answer the question.

“Personally,” he went right on, “I find old Prof Flanders absolutely”— He stopped and glanced around to make sure there was no one else within earshot—“boring,” he finished conspiratorially.

Kendra couldn’t help but smile. He had echoed her own feelings. She felt it a shameful waste for a professor to take an interesting subject and treat it with such lack of enthusiasm.

“Hear he teaches philosophy as well,” the young man went on. “I’m avoiding that one if I can.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Kendra replied with another smile. “I think I’ll try to do likewise.”

They had almost reached their classroom.

“I was wondering,” said the young man, suddenly sounding rather out of breath and in a hurry, “if you would like to join us on Friday night. We’re having a party at Nancy’s house. I’ve been invited and she said we might bring a guest.”

Kendra stopped walking. She had never been invited out before— never been to a party. What would she wear? How should she act? Did she really wish to go?

“That would be very nice,” she heard a voice answering and was surprised to discover that it was her own.

“Good,” he said. “Write down your address and I’ll get it after class. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

All through class Kendra’s mind kept whirling. What had she done? She hardly knew the young man. She had no idea what sort of a fellow he was. She had even less of an idea of how the young entertained themselves at a party. She should not have said yes. Perhaps she should just write him a little note and tell him she had changed her mind. Several times during the class Kendra felt his eyes upon her. She dared not turn her head even slightly for fear their eyes would meet.

At the end of the class period she slipped him a note with Maggie’s address. She wanted to avoid looking at him, but it didn’t seem the polite thing to do. She glanced at him briefly and was rewarded with a warm smile. Kendra flushed and hurried off to another class. She would not see him again until the next day. In the meantime she hoped she would have a chance to chat with Nancy, a girl she knew slightly. She just had to learn a bit more about the coming party.

Normally Nancy was surrounded by a noisy, fun-loving group of her five or six special friends. But this time, Kendra noticed, she was sitting alone in the small cafeteria. Kendra breathed a sigh when she spotted her and concluded that the others must not have been dismissed from their final class yet. She took a deep breath, walked forward, and put her best smile in place. “May I join you for a minute?” she asked.

Nancy looked surprised, then nodded.

Kendra took the seat opposite the girl and sipped at her cool drink. Then she swallowed quickly and decided she had better talk fast. Nancy’s crowd might soon be arriving.

“Carl has asked me to accompany him to your party on Friday night,” she began, noting the surprised look that crossed Nancy’s face.

“Good,” she smiled, and Kendra hoped she truly meant the single word.

“I was wondering,” continued Kendra before she had a chance to lose her nerve, “what we plan to do—so I’ll know how to dress for it.”

Relaxed again, Nancy smiled a second time and leaned forward.

“Oh, we won’t do much. We mostly just hang around and talk and eat and maybe dance a bit to the gramophone. I have some great records. Papa got them the last time he traveled to Chicago.”

Kendra nodded, her own smile still carefully in place.

“So you aren’t dressing formal?” she asked. She had heard the word used and finally figured out what it meant in terms of presentday wear.

“No. No. Just come—comfortable. Whatever—” said the young woman with a flick of her wrist.

Kendra could hear a chattering group entering the room. She looked up to see Nancy’s usual bevy of cohorts. Nancy stood and waved wildly. “Over here,” she called across to them.

Kendra stood and smiled. “Thanks,” she said.

“Oh, you don’t have to leave,” put in Nancy. “There’s room for you to join us.”

But Kendra gathered her armful of books.

“Thanks,” she said again, “but I really have to go. I have loads of homework.”

“Homework?” said Nancy with a shrug of her shoulder. “I really can’t be bothered.” She laughed.

Kendra was so nervous as she dressed for Friday evening’s outing that her hands trembled. She was ready much before eight and sat on Maggie’s couch watching the clock and nervously fidgeting.

“I think it’s so nice that you can go out with the young people,” Maggie exclaimed for what Kendra judged must have been about the tenth time. “And you look so nice,” enthused Maggie. Kendra again felt doubts that she may have picked the wrong outfit.

“What did you say this boy’s name is?”

Kendra licked dry lips and swallowed. “Carl,” she said. “Carl Mandrake.”

“Mandrake. I don’t believe I’ve heard that name in the city.”

“No. No, I believe he is from out of town. Somewhere south, I think,” replied Kendra. She had a vague recollection of a comment made in class, but she couldn’t remember what it was. She had paid little attention at the time.

“Well, I do think it’s so nice,” said Maggie again as she reached for her scissors to clip a thread on her needlework.

“Your grandfather will be pleased as well,” went on Maggie. “He has worried some that he kept you in the woods too long.”

Kendra smiled. But it was a halfhearted one. She was too nervous to fully appreciate Maggie’s comment.

“Well, I told him that I was sure you’d do fine. It just takes time, that’s all. One can’t come into a new situation and feel perfectly at home immediately. It takes time.”

Kendra thought she heard steps on the wooden sidewalk. She rose swiftly to her feet and crossed to the window. There was no one in sight.

She sat back down and fiddled with the buttons on her shirtwaist front. Was the shirtwaist too plain? Too tailored for such an outing?

She glanced at the clock. She did wish she had decided on the other one, but she wouldn’t have time to change now. It was almost eight o’clock.

Kendra, beginning to hope that she had been forgotten, didn’t hear a knock till twenty past eight. But when Maggie opened the door, Carl Mandrake stood on the step. He smiled congenially and introduced himself to Maggie. Kendra grabbed a light shawl and went to meet him. If Maggie got started talking, they would never get away, she reasoned.

Carl made no reference to the fact that he was late and no apologies for keeping her waiting. Kendra tried to shrug it off. Perhaps that was how young people generally made arrangements—with a great deal of flexibility.

It was fifteen blocks to Nancy’s house, but it was a nice evening and Kendra enjoyed the chance to stretch her legs and breathe in the fresh evening air. She walked farther than that each day to get to classes. Maggie had fretted about the distance to the university, but Kendra felt it was a short stroll after being used to following the dog team for miles each day.

As they walked, Carl made light conversation. He was easy to listen to. His little puns made Kendra laugh. She began to feel that the evening might not be so bad after all. Perhaps she had done the right thing in agreeing to go out.

When they reached Nancy’s house, there was a noisy crowd already gathered in the backyard. Carl led Kendra directly down the sidewalk, past the flower garden, and to a back patio. Kendra could tell that he was familiar with the place.

“Hi, Carl” greeted them over and over as they neared the group of revellers. “Hey, Carl.” “How you doing?” “What took you so long?”

Kendra listened to the boisterous shouts. It seemed that Carl was popular with the crowd. It made her feel rather good to be out with such an important young man.

But the feeling didn’t last very long. Though a good deal of attention was showered on Carl, Kendra was rather ignored. She managed to find a spot to sit on a low bench almost in the shadows, and from her perch watched the party going on around her.

Kendra wasn’t sure what she had expected, but certainly more than the chattering, bantering, teasing, and flirting that went on. Now and then a couple drew back into the shadows, more interested in each other than in the rest of the party guests.

There was lots of food. And drink. Much of it was alcoholic. Kendra had never seen people drink before. Her grandfather abhorred the use of alcohol. But the young people at the party did not share his perspective. Even some of the young women present shared the bottles passed around.

Now and then Carl seemed to remember her. He would look around, spot her on the bench she had not left all evening, and wave his hand at her merrily. Once he brought her some of the party food. It tasted strange to Kendra, and she was glad she had taken only a small portion. At least she wouldn’t have to force down a lot of something she didn’t like.

The hour got later and later. The air became chillier. The party grew noisier. Kendra suppressed yawn after yawn. She began to shiver. She was afraid the neighbors would soon be complaining. She longed to go home.

“Hey, Kendra. Join the party,” someone called.

“Come on, Kendra,” said Nancy, finally acting the hostess. “We are going in to dance.”

There didn’t seem to be anything else to do. Kendra followed.

The dancing was even noisier and livelier. Kendra wished she could cover her ears. She was used to quiet, to silence—except for the sliding of the sleigh runners over the crisp winter snow or the call of a loon in the cold evening air. Even the whole dog team baying at once wasn’t as loud as this group.

“Want to dance?” The young man who spoke to her was a stranger to Kendra. She did not know him even from any of her classes.

Kendra shook her head. “I’ll just watch,” she replied and tried to smile. She had no idea how to take part in one of their dances. All she had ever seen were the dances connected with the Indian festivities at the settlement.

He shrugged and left to find another partner.

Carl was having fun with a young woman in a full navy skirt and a puffy-sleeved blouse. When she twirled, her skirts lifted, both surprising and embarrassing Kendra. But the young woman did not seem to mind. Round and round they whirled, laughing and breathless.

The party went on and on, and Kendra’s desire to go home nearly overwhelmed her. But Carl was having such a good time she feared he would never wish to leave.

“You wanna dance?’ he asked her breathlessly between pieces played on the gramophone.

Kendra shook her head.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked solicitously.

Kendra shook her head again.

He nodded. It seemed to be fine with him if she wished to just sit. He looked around for another dance partner.

Kendra waited until the music started and the couples began to swing and sway; then she gathered her shawl about her shoulders, slipped quietly from the room, and started the long walk home.

Chapter Twenty

Amy

At first Kendra was angry—angry with Carl for asking her to the party and then nearly forgetting she was even there. Angry with Nancy for not making more effort to include her in the evening’s activities. Angry with the other young guests who gave her a nod and then went about having a good time. But, mostly, angry with herself for not fitting in. They had already branded her as a girl “from the sticks.” She had just proved to them that she was.

Tears threatened to form, but Kendra willed them away in the manner she had learned from her childhood. She would not cry.

“I just don’t fit,” she scolded herself. “I just don’t fit. I’m as—as awkward and—and different as a—a crow with a flock of bluebirds.”

Kendra was almost halfway home when a new thought came to her.

“I don’t need to fit. I really don’t. If I’m not comfortable with the ‘in crowd,’ I don’t need to fit. Why was I trying to fit with them anyway? They aren’t what I want to be. What I wish to become. They don’t even take life seriously. They don’t study. Half of them will never make it through the year. They party. They drink too much. They—” Kendra stopped. She need not go on with her accusations. She had no more right to judge them than they’d had to judge her.