She seemed a lot older all of a sudden. Today, for instance, I'd noticed that she was wearing eye shadow, something she had once vowed she would never do. And she'd gotten her ears pierced in November. Like Michelle and Sherry, she was spending more and more time going to the mall and talking about the cute boys she saw there.
I sighed and pumped harder, lifting the swing higher into the air. Clothes, makeup, and boys—was that all Tracy was interested in now? Letting the wind buffet the swing and sting my nose, I wondered why I wasn't interested in things like that. Were Tracy, Michelle, and Sherry stupid, boring people? Or was it me? Maybe there was something wrong with me. Maybe I was abnormal. Maybe, deep down inside, I was just as strange as Daphne.
A little frightened by my thoughts, I pumped with all my strength, sending the swing higher and higher. I wished that the chains would break and the wind would sweep me up, up, up into the sky, beyond the clouds, beyond the sun and the moon, to some marvelous kingdom where no one ever changed and friends were friends for life.
Six
AT THREE-THIRTY on Saturday afternoon, the doorbell rang, and there was Daphne, wearing her old red parka and a pair of baggy corduroy pants. Beside her stood a little girl. Her eyes, like Daphne's, were huge and green-gray, but her hair was blond and hung down her back in curly ripples. Despite her dirty, torn parka and her faded, outgrown jeans, she looked every bit as much like a princess as Daphne did.
"I'm sorry I'm late," Daphne mumbled, "but I had to bring Hope with me, and she can't walk very fast."
"That's okay." Ushering them inside, I shut the door against the arctic air. "You must be frozen," I said nervously. Now that Daphne was here, I had no idea what I was going to say to her.
"I feel like a snowman," Hope said. The wind had made her cheeks bloom with red and her eyes sparkled.
"Would you like some hot chocolate?" I asked.
Hope nodded. "I would love some."
Daphne looked uncomfortable. "If it's not too much trouble or anything."
They followed me into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Hope spotted Snuff lurking in a corner, watching the refrigerator hopefully.
"Is this your cat?" With a sudden lunge, Hope scooped up Snuff and buried her face in the cat's fur. "Oh, you pretty, pretty kitty, are you singing me a little song?"
"You better put her down," I said, recognizing Snuff's lovely growling song for what it was. "She's not very friendly."
"She wouldn't scratch me, would she?" Hope continued to cuddle Snuff against her body, but she looked a little uncertain.
"She might even bite you. She has a very nasty disposition."
"Oh." Looking very disappointed, Hope put Snuff down. "My grandmother has a lot of cats. Some of them are kind of wild and mean, but most of them are nice. Especially Callie. She's going to have kittens, and Grandmother says I can have one for my very own. Maybe you could have one, too, and then you'd have a nice kitty."
I smiled at Hope, glad that she was a lot more talkative than her sister. "That would be nice, Hope."
As I poured hot milk into our mugs, I glanced at Daphne. She was looking out the sliding glass door at the row of townhouses behind us. A wide strip of open space separated us from them, but they were close enough to see the people inside.
"Is the fat lady in the third one from the left doing her yoga exercises?" I asked Daphne. Josh and I loved to watch her force herself into all sorts of strange contortions. We were sure that one day she'd get stuck and we'd have to call the rescue squad.
Daphne shook her head, killing that attempt to start a conversation.
"Do you have a mommy?" Hope asked suddenly.
I nodded. "She's at work today. She has to work every other Saturday at the library."
Hope nodded, looking relieved. "How about your daddy? Where's he?"
"He lives in California. He and Mom are divorced." I took a big sip of my hot chocolate and burned my tongue, something I do every single time I have hot chocolate.
"We don't have a daddy either. He went away a long time ago, before I was even born." Hope wiped her mouth, succeeding only in smudging her chocolate mustache. "Do you have any cookies?"
"Hope!" Daphne frowned, embarrassed, I guess, that Hope would ask me for food.
I laughed, trying to show Daphne she didn't need to be embarrassed. "Sure, if my brother hasn't eaten them all."
I rummaged around in the cupboard and found a bag of chocolate-chip cookies I'd hidden behind the Bran Buds. Knowing Josh never ate cereal, especially that kind, I'd figured the cookies might escape his notice.
"Where's your brother?" Hope asked, her mouth full of cookies. "Is he big or little?"
"He's big. Right now he's over at a friend's house."
She nodded and crammed a few more cookies into her mouth. I figured she could probably give Josh a run for the money as far as eating was concerned. Daphne, on the other hand, took one cookie and drank her hot chocolate slowly and deliberately, peering into the mug as if it were full of marvelous secrets.
After Hope and I finished the bag of cookies, I gathered up the mugs, rinsed them, and put them in the dishwasher. Then I led Daphne and Hope upstairs to my room.
"Is this your dollhouse?" Hope dropped to the floor and peered into each room, entranced by the mice and the furniture and the little chandeliers.
I turned to Daphne, who was staring down at the dollhouse, her pale face as expressionless as usual. "I wrote an outline for the story last night. Do you want to read it?"
As I handed it to her, I could feel my heart thudding. I realized then that I wanted Daphne to like my story. I wanted to impress her, I wanted her to realize that I wasn't just like all the other girls in our class.
While Hope investigated my shelf full of dolls and stuffed animals, Daphne sat down on the floor by the dollhouse and read my outline. When she finally looked up, she was frowning slightly. "It's very good except for the ending," she said uncertainly.
Disappointed, I stared at her. "What's wrong with the ending?"
"Well, I don't know. It sounds sort of funny to have the cat bring Sir Benjamin back." Nervously she ran her hand through her hair, smoothing it back from her face. "It seems kind of unrealistic."
"But I wanted it to have a happy ending." I felt my face flush with embarrassment.
Daphne twirled some of her hair around, her finger and shrugged. "I think it would be better if it ended with Princess Heatherfern still looking for him. He hasn't come home, but she hasn't given up hoping."
I shrugged, not really agreeing with Daphne but not wanting to offend her. "Why don't we get started? You could make some sketches of the dollhouse and the mice."
Daphne opened her sketchbook and sat down cross-legged in front of the dollhouse. I could tell by the expression on her face that she was every bit as delighted with it as Hope had been.
As she began to sketch, I dropped down on the floor beside her and watched her long, slender fingers move across the paper. In a few seconds, the dollhouse began to emerge from sketchy pencil lines; first an outline of its shape, then its rooms, and finally its details.
"That's good," I whispered. "It looks just like it."
Daphne shook her head as if she didn't agree, but she looked at me. "It's such a beautiful dollhouse."
"I know. My grandfather made it for me when I was three years old. It was under the Christmas tree, and I don't think I even looked at any of the rest of my presents."
"I made Hope a dollhouse out of cardboard boxes, but it's so flimsy something breaks every time she plays with it."
"But it's a nice dollhouse anyway." Hope hugged Daphne. "It's like a castle with towers and everything, and she made me paper-doll princes and princesses. There's even a unicorn for them to ride and a dragon for the princes to fight."
Daphne blushed and bent her head over her sketch book. She was drawing the mice now.
"My sister is the best artist in the world," Hope said proudly.
"She's wond
erful," I agreed. "Look, you can even see their eyes sparkle." I pointed at the mice Daphne had drawn. "I wish I could draw like that."
Daphne looked embarrassed, but she smiled a little as if she were really pleased that I liked her drawings.
"Now," I said. "Let's put them in their rooms, the way they are at the beginning of the story." I picked up Princess Heatherfern and stood her in front of her window. "She's waiting for Benjamin."
Daphne moved Cragstar to the tower. "He's studying his books of magic, trying to find a spell that will show him where Benjamin is. But Malvolia is in the attic, plotting against him." Daphne moved Malvolia about, cackling to herself in a very witchy way.
"And what about Baby Mouse?" Hope picked him up. "What's he doing?"
"Hush, hush," I made Nurse Marigold say. "You must go to sleep, little one."
Hope looked disappointed. Instead of putting Baby Mouse in his cradle, she made him dance about the nursery, squeaking and singing a funny little song.
"My lady, my lady!" Daphne spoke gruffly for Cragstar as she moved him into Princess Heatherfern's room. "We must flee this house! Evil is afoot and danger lurks everywhere."
"But where shall we go? We cannot leave without Benjamin," I spoke in a quavery voice for the princess.
"We must seek Benjamin in the Enchanted Wood, for it is there that he has gone, led astray by the wiles of the wicked witch Malvolia." Daphne made Cragstar hop and skip about the tiny room.
I moved the princess closer to Cragstar. "I will brave the gravest dangers of the Enchanted Wood if you can lead me to Benjamin, venerable sir."
"But Malvolia enters the room!" Daphne flew Malvolia down from the attic. "You'll never find him, never! Hee, hee, hee!" Daphne cackled so hideously that Hope almost dropped Baby Mouse in alarm.
"Off with you, evil spirit!" Daphne-Cragstar roared, and we hustled the wizard and the princess past the witch and down the stairs.
"What about me?" squeaked Hope. "Can't I come too?"
"No, no, Hope," I said. "He's too little, and besides, that's not how the story goes." I made Nurse come scurrying after Baby Mouse.
"Now, you come back here, you bad baby, and get into your nice cradle!" I made the nurse say in a very stern voice.
But Hope's little hand stayed right where it was, and she looked up at me sadly. "He wants to come, Jessica."
I sighed, knowing I couldn't resist a look so full of longing. "Oh, all right. Have him hide in one of their supply baskets. Then he can hop out when they're too far away to go back."
Hope smiled, revealing two missing front teeth, and hopped Baby Mouse up and down. "I'm going, I'm going!" she squeaked.
Daphne and I smiled at each other over Hope's head. "Let's take them outside so they can have a real journey," Daphne suggested. "I could sketch their adventures more realistically that way."
Slowly we took the mice out of my room and down the stairs, a step at a time. In the kitchen they were in great peril from Snuff, but Cragstar brandished his staff bravely and chanted powerful anticat spells while the princess and the baby cowered under a chair.
Once the threat of Snuff was past, they raided the cupboards for supplies and escaped through the sliding glass door. Cautiously they made their way across the open space, in great danger of being carried away by birds, down a hill, and into a wooded gully. On the banks of the creek, we decided to build a shelter for them.
Gathering stones, we constructed a little house and roofed it with twigs and tufts of moss. By the time we were finished it was late in the afternoon, and Daphne's fingers were almost too cold to sketch the mice in front of their new home.
"Let's stop for today," I said. "My toes are about to freeze, and Hope's lips are turning blue." Gathering up the mice, I dropped them into my pocket.
"Shouldn't we leave them in their house?" Daphne asked.
"Something might happen to them out here." I thought of a cat or a dog knocking the little house apart, finding the mice, and taking them away. I'd already lost Benjamin. I didn't want to lose any of the others.
"They have a nice, snug house. They'll be safe," Daphne said.
Not wanting her to think I was being babyish, I reluctantly put the mice in their milkweed-pod beds. "Let's say they found this." Taking off one of my mittens, I covered all three with it. Then I put the roof back on and weighted it down with a few more stones. "There."
As we climbed up the hill toward home, I was surprised to see the moon hanging like a worn stone in the pale sky above the treetops. "It's almost dark," I said. "Do you want to stay and have dinner with us?"
Hope caught my hand and gave a little jump. "Could we?"
But Daphne shook her head. "No, thank you. We have to go home."
"Couldn't you call your mother and ask her?" I persisted.
"We don't have a phone."
I stared at Daphne, shocked. I thought everybody had a telephone. "My mother will drive you home, then. Come on, I'll ask her."
"Is she home now?" Hope asked.
I pointed at the lighted kitchen window in our house. "See her head? She's getting dinner ready." I looked at Daphne. "I really wish you could stay."
"No, we can't." Daphne tugged Hope away from me. "Come on, we have to hurry. We're late." All of a sudden the friendliness between us was gone, and Daphne seemed as strange and unknowable as she did in school.
"Just stay right there, and I'll get my mom to drive you." Without waiting for a response, I ran into the house.
"Of course I'll take them home," Mom said. "It's much too cold and dark for them to walk way out there." She pulled on her coat and followed me outside.
Daphne and Hope were already a block away by the time we caught up with them, but Mom stopped and opened the door.
"Where are you going?" I asked Daphne. "I said we'd take you home."
"It's all right. I told you we could walk." Daphne stood there, pale in the harsh light of a street lamp.
Hope looked up at her. "Please, Daphne? I'm so cold, and I'm scared to walk in the dark."
"Come on, girls," Mom said kindly. "I need to pick up some milk at the store, so it's not a bit of trouble to drop you off." She leaned toward them, smiling, and Daphne finally opened the back door and got in, with Hope right behind her.
"Thank you very much," Daphne said softly. "I just didn't want you to go to any trouble."
"Don't worry about it," Mom said. "Just tell me how to get to your house."
Following Daphne's directions, Mom drove through Adelphia's curving streets and then out into the cold, dark farmland surrounding the town. To my relief, we passed the Exxon station without stopping. About two miles down Cook's Lane, Daphne pointed to a mailbox sagging open on a crooked post. "You can let us out right here," she said.
"It's dark, Daphne. I can't just drop you two by the side of the road. Is it up this driveway?" Mom slowed down to make the turn.
"Yes, but the house isn't far. We can walk easily."
Ignoring Daphne, Mom drove up a rutted driveway, bouncing us around when she hit the bumps. As we emerged from an arch of old trees, we saw a house standing all alone on a rise of ground, a tall, black shape against the starry sky. Not a light shone anywhere.
"Is anyone at home?" Mom sounded worried.
"She must be in the kitchen." Daphne opened the door, flooding the car with light. "Come on, Hope. She's probably worried to death."
"Thank you very much for bringing us home," Hope said. "And for letting Baby Mouse go on the journey," she added, smiling at me.
"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Taylor," Daphne said as she took Hope's hand. Together they ran across the yard and up the steps.
Mom sat there for a minute, staring at the house until she was sure they had gotten inside. Then she put the car in reverse and eased back down the driveway, hitting the bumps just as hard as she had coming in. Neither one of us said a word until we were back on Cook's Lane.
"Well, I hope everything was all right," Mom said. "That house looked so da
rk and lonely."
"I know." I shivered and moved a little closer to Mom. "I asked them to stay for dinner, but Daphne said they couldn't."
"It was nice of you to ask." Mom smiled at me. "How did it go today?"
I shrugged. "While we were working on the book, we had a great time. She was so different from the way she is in school. She talked and laughed, and she's a wonderful artist. I wish you could have seen the things she drew." I sighed. "But when they were leaving, she got all strange again. You saw how she was about the ride. Don't you think she acted kind of weird?"
"Oh, I don't know. I think she was uncomfortable about something. And shy." Mom paused. "And she's probably a little afraid to get too friendly with you, Jessica. After all, you haven't shown any interest in her before now, and she certainly doesn't have any reason to think that anyone at Oakcrest wants to be her friend."
"That's true." I leaned back against the car seat and thought about the afternoon I'd spent with Daphne and Hope. Strange as it seemed, I'd had the best time I'd had in a long time. In fact, I could hardly wait for Daphne to come over again. And not just to work on the book. There were so many things I didn't know about her, so many questions I wanted to ask her.
"Do you think maybe she likes me, then? Even if she did act funny about your giving her a ride home?" I asked Mom.
She smiled at me and patted my knee. "Of course she likes you. She wouldn't have stayed so long if she didn't." She slowed down to turn from Cook's Lane into Adelphia, leaving the bleak countryside behind. "Just be patient with her, Jess. Give her a little time. And don't let the kids at school make you forget that Daphne has feelings."
I stared at her, shocked. "I've never made fun of her, Mom! I wouldn't hurt her feelings for anything."
Seven
UNFORTUNATELY, IT wasn't as easy for me to avoid hurting Daphne's feelings as I thought it would be. When I left for school on Monday, I told myself that I was going to be very friendly to Daphne and that I didn't care what Michelle said, did, or thought. Feeling proud of myself, I hurried down the hall to my locker, planning to walk right up to Daphne and say hello.