Jessie removed her shin guards and changed from her cleats to her sneakers. She was walking home when she saw Kayla, by herself, sitting on a bench by the playground, tying her shoe laces.
Jessie approached her. With a friendly smile, she said, “Hello.”
Kayla glanced at Jessie. “Hello,” she responded. Her eyebrows went into a high arch, and there was a surprised lilt to her voice. Obviously she wasn’t used to people being friendly to her.
Jessie decided it was best just to come right out and say what nobody wanted to say. “I saw that letter in the paper. I thought it was terrible, and very unfair.”
Kayla grimaced. It was almost as if a dark cloud passed over her face. Instantly Jessie regretted her words. She should have realized the whole subject would be painful for Kayla. She hadn’t intended to cause Kayla more pain. She just wanted to be friendly.
“Thanks,” Kayla said. She stood up and picked up her soccer bag. “I think I’ll go now.”
Just before leaving, Kayla said, “Thanks for nominating me. And congratulations on being elected team captain.”
“It should have been you,” Jessie said.
Kayla gave a sad, wistful smile, then waved and walked away.
At the dinner table that evening, Jessie told Henry that the coach wanted to know if he’d help coach her team. “Of course,” said Henry. “Helping Mia will be fun.”
“Did anything interesting happen at your practice?” Benny asked.
“Well, the team elected me captain,” Jessie said.
“Congratulations!” Grandfather said. “That’s an honor! It means your teammates respect you and look to you as a leader.”
“I think Kayla should have been captain,” Jessie said.
“The captain isn’t always the best player,” Henry said. “The captain is the best team player, the one who looks out for everyone else and chooses which plays the team should do.”
“I will tell you this,” Jessie said. “If Danielle or Ashley wrote the letter, they’re clever about pretending they didn’t. Danielle and Ashley talked about the letter as if they didn’t write it, and didn’t know who did.”
“You’d think whoever wrote the letter would have known about the automatic save function at the library,” Henry said.
“The what?” Benny asked.
“Kids were always losing their homework when they forgot to save their work,” Henry said. “So now there is an automatic save. Don’t you remember? That’s how the reporter found the copy.”
“So whoever wrote the letter doesn’t know about the autosave?” Jessie asked. “I wonder if there are any clues in that.”
“I think all the older kids know about autosave,” Henry said. “And the teachers know.”
“Maybe it wasn’t one of the kids or teachers,” Benny said. “Maybe it was a grown-up in town who doesn’t like the Thompsons.”
“Well, Benny,” Henry said. “How about if tomorrow before Jessie’s practice you and I visit the library and see if we can find out if anyone other than teachers or students were using the computers.”
“Good idea!” Benny said.
The next day, at school, Jessie was in the school library during her study period when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She turned. There was Coach Olson, smiling.
“May I speak to you for a few minutes,” he asked.
“Of course!” Jessie said.
Jessie and Coach Olson sat at the table in the library conference room. Coach Olson had an open friendly face and an easy smile.
“You probably know why I want to talk to you,” he said. “I am investigating the accusations in the letter. The mascot committee wants to know whether they are true.”
“You should have seen how nice Kayla was at the practice yesterday!” Jessie said. “She passed the ball to other girls so they could score, too. She was friendly, and a team player.”
“But she generally isn’t a team player, right? Ordinarily, she does not show team spirit. Do you agree with that?”
Jessie looked down into her lap. She understood why Mrs. Thompson was not happy with the coach, since it was clear he didn’t like Kayla, and didn’t think she should be mascot.
“Kayla is the best player on the team,” Jessie said. “By far. I think she can learn to be a team player, if someone helps her.”
The coach smiled at her and said, “You are very supportive of your teammates. All of them. Mia said that’s why you were elected team captain.”
Jessie felt confused, wondering why he was suddenly talking about her.
“Thank you,” she said.
The downtown library was crowded after school. “I’ll bet everyone wants to be in here where it’s nice and cool,” Benny whispered to Henry.
Henry agreed. All the comfortable reading chairs were taken. The carpet in the picture book room was also filled with children sprawled out, reading. Henry and Benny walked to the back of the library where the row of computers were lined up on a table against the back wall. A few kids were doing homework. Several of the computers were empty. Benny and Henry sat down and looked around.
One of the librarians came to them and said, “Can I help you boys with anything?”
“We were curious about that letter the reporter found,” Henry said.
“Very clever of that reporter,” said the librarian. “She came in and asked if the computers had automatic save functions. I said they did, and she said she wanted to look for something. She spent about twenty minutes looking through one homework assignment after another. Then she found the letter.”
“I only see students using the computers,” Henry said. “And sometimes teachers.”
“Mostly students,” said the librarian. “But occasionally we get adults, too, who are not connected to the school.”
“Do you need a library card to use the computers?” Benny asked.
“Nope, anyone can use them. We charge for printing, but anyone can print.”
A boy sitting at a computer nearby raised his hand for help. The librarian excused herself and went to help him.
Benny and Henry looked at each other.
“The letter was typed, so there are no clues in the handwriting,” Benny said.
“And the postmark probably shows that it was mailed from the Greenfield post office. No clues there.”
“I don’t think we learned anything helpful,” Benny said.
“I don’t think so, either,” Henry said with a sigh.
CHAPTER 5
Danielle Does Something Mean
Wednesday was the hottest day yet. The air was so humid that simply walking across the street was enough to make a person feel groggy, hot, and tired. Some of the teams cancelled their practice, but the red team decided to practice anyway, even though it seemed to Jessie that the heat was making everyone feel a little cross.
When Jessie and Henry approached the field, Mia called out, “I’m so glad you could come help, Henry!”
The field was freshly mowed, so the air smelled of cut grass. Ordinarily the smell of cut grass was one of Jessie’s favorite smells because it reminded her of summer. But today, the smell seemed too heavy and sweet. She was so hot she felt wet all over.
It was Jessie’s turn to be the goalie. She stood waiting in front of the goal while Danielle dribbled the ball toward her. Just when it looked as if Danielle would easily kick the ball into the goal, Kayla darted in front of her, as if from nowhere, and with a single kick, took the ball away from her. In a flash, Kayla was dribbling in the other direction.
“Show-off!” Danielle said, flipping her long pony tail over her shoulder.
“I’m not showing off,” Kayla said. “I’m playing soccer the way you’re supposed to play soccer.”
“You’re always showing off,” Danielle said.
“You’re always being mean,” Kayla retorted. “You and your mean friends.”
Betsy said to Danielle, “You just don’t like that Kayla can get the ball away from you so e
asily.”
Danielle turned away, but not before Jessie saw the angry look that crossed her face. Jessie braced herself, waiting for Danielle to say something else mean. But Danielle didn’t say anything. She put both hands in the pockets of her shorts. Jessie thought that was odd.
A few minutes later, Henry blew his whistle and called out to Danielle, “Why are you running with your hands in your pockets?”
Danielle ignored him. She kept her hands in her pockets.
Henry and Jessie exchanged puzzled glances. “We’d better keep an eye on them,” Jessie said.
“Oh, yes,” Henry said.
“Can someone else have a turn being goalie now?” Jessie asked. The goalie has to stay near the goal. Jessie wanted to stay close to Danielle and Kayla.
“Certainly,” Mia said, “if you don’t want to any more.”
“How about Jennifer?” Jessie suggested. “She hasn’t had a turn yet.”
Jessie took off the goalie’s vest and threw it to Jennifer. As the girls ran up and down the field, practicing, Jessie made sure to stay between Danielle and Kayla. She wanted to be able to prevent trouble, if she could. She knew from the way Kayla and Danielle looked at each other that both of them were still angry.
Ashley was dribbling toward the goal. Kayla easily stole the ball from her, then turned and dribbled the opposite direction.
Just then, in a flash, Danielle darted in front of Kayla. She took something from her pocket and dropped it on the ground at Kayla’s feet.
Kayla tripped. She screamed and sprawled forward. She landed face down, in the grass.
Jessie ran to Kayla, and knelt next to her. “Kayla! Are you okay?”
Kayla pushed herself up to a sitting position. She had grass stuck to the side of her jersey and some mud on her face.
Others, including Henry, ran over and knelt next to Kayla.
“I’m fine,” Kayla said. Jessie could see she was shaky and angry. Mia ran to them. Together, Jessie and Mia helped Kayla to her feet.
Kayla looked down to see what she’d tripped on. There, on the ground at her feet, was a golf ball. Kayla picked up the golf ball, and marched over to Danielle. “Did you do this?”
Jessie ran to be next to Kayla. “It’s okay, Kayla,” Jessie said. “Let’s not have a fight.”
Kayla shook the golf ball at Danielle. For a horrible moment, Jessie thought Kayla was going to throw it at her. Instead, Kayla whirled around and said, “I’m finished.”
Kayla dropped the ball into her own pocket. She went to the bench, picked up her water bottle and sports bag, and walked from the field. The other girls were silent, watching, as she crossed the street and sat on a bench. She changed from her cleats into her regular shoes.
“Maybe we should stop for today,” Mia said. “Everyone is a little testy.”
“You can say that again!” one of the girls said.
“I’m glad she won’t be mascot,” Ashley said.
Jessie shot Ashley a quick glance. She couldn’t understand how anyone could take sides against the girl who had just been tripped. Jessie looked closely at Ashley. Maybe Ashley and Danielle were the ones who had written that letter to sabotage Kayla’s chances.
“My opinion,” Mia said, “is that Jessie should be mascot.”
“I don’t want to be mascot,” Jessie said quickly. “I wouldn’t want to take something away from someone else like that.”
“But you’re the kind of player who should be mascot,” Mia said.
The girls sat on benches to change into their sneakers. Jessie put her shin guards and the extra balls she had brought into her soccer bag and slung the bag over her shoulder.
Henry and Jessie walked home together. It seemed to Jessie that the entire town was moving in slow motion because of the heat. There were not many cars on the street, and only a few people on the sidewalk.
“Mrs. McGregor asked if we can stop at the market for some milk,” Henry said. “That’s why I brought this.” He pointed to the backpack he was wearing.
“All right,” Jessie said.
They turned a corner toward the market and there, in front of them, was Kayla, heading toward her house. Kayla’s hands were in her pockets.
“You sure are right about those girls,” Henry said. “They can be mean.”
“Yes, they can,” Jessie agreed. “Ever since Kayla came to the school, the girls have been mean to her.”
Kayla was walking faster than Henry and Jessie, so soon she was at the corner, ready to cross the street. Idly, as Henry and Jessie watched, Kayla took the golf ball from her pocket, looked at it, and rubbed it against her shirt the way a person might brush off an apple before eating it. Then she dropped it back into her pocket. She turned the corner and was gone from their sight.
Henry and Jessie turned the corner toward the market. Henry looked down an alley where Gerry’s General Store used to be. The sign still said, “Gerry’s General Store,” even though Gerry had closed his store and moved from town over the winter. There was a “For Lease” sign in the window.
“Would you look at that!” Henry said. “The window is broken!”
Jessie peered down the street. “It is!” she said. At first she hadn’t noticed because the storefront was in shadows.
“I wonder when that happened,” Henry said. “I didn’t notice it this morning. We should tell Grandfather so he can let the police know.”
“Maybe we should look,” said Jessie, “to make sure nothing was left dangerous.”
Henry and Jessie quickly walked down the alley to the store. Glass was everywhere. The wood casing was splintered.
Just then a door opened and Mrs. Leob, a friend of Grandfather’s, came out of a nearby shop. Seeing the broken glass, she shrieked. She turned to Henry and Jessie, “Did you do this?”
“No, ma’am, we did not!” Henry said. “We saw the broken glass and came over to look.”
Mrs. Leob looked closely at Henry and Jessie. “Oh! You’re the Alden children! I was so upset I didn’t notice! Did you see anything suspicious?”
“No, ma’am,” Henry said.
“I will call the police right away,” Mrs. Leob said. “We do not put up with this sort of behavior in Greenfield. Whoever did this will find himself—or herself—in big, big trouble.”
Just then, Jessie noticed something else. Cold air was coming from the inside of the store. “It seems like an air conditioner is on in there,” Jessie said.
“You’re right!” Henry said. “The air is freezing! How odd!”
“What a waste of energy,” Mrs. Leob said. “I will have the police turn it off when they get here.”
CHAPTER 6
A Friend in the Woods
Meanwhile, Violet was at home. The purple team didn’t practice that day. Their coaches—two eighth-grade girls—said it was simply too hot. So Violet did her homework, then sat in the living room with her sketch pad. She was in an after school art class which met once weekly, on Mondays. Grandfather bought her a new sketchpad for the class. Already she’d filled most of her sketchpad with lovely drawings.
She pulled a chair to the window. From the chair, she could see the flowerbeds in the front yard. She drew the rosebushes. She liked drawing nature—trees, flowers, birds. After filling a few pages with drawings of the flowerbed, she went to Grandfather’s study. His door was open and he was at his writing desk, working. She tapped softly on the door frame.
He looked up.
“Grandfather, may I take my sketch book into the woods so I can draw some trees and wild flowers.”
“Certainly,” he said. “Take some water with you to drink. And don’t forget to be back by dinner time.”
She walked from the house, down the street to the trail leading into the woods. A short distance into the woods, she found a cool glade. She spread a blanket in the shade and settled down with her sketch pad and drawing pencils. There, in a sunny spot, was a patch of beautiful pink flowers with five soft petals and a yellow center.
She knew the names of the flower from a book she’d read in school the year before. The flowers were called pasture roses, but they didn’t look anything like garden roses. They had a simple shape, just five petals, so they were easy to draw.
Soon she filled her sketchbook page with pasture roses. She was drawing grass to frame the picture when she heard the crunching of footsteps through the woods. The person was coming from the opposite direction Violet had come, so she suspected whoever was approaching was not her sister or one of her brothers.
She looked up and waited.
To her surprise, from around the corner, came Kayla, carrying a sketch pad. Kayla stopped, obviously surprised to see Violet. The two girls looked at each other for a moment.
Kayla said, “Sorry,” and turned to leave.
“You can stay,” Violet said. “This is a nice place to draw.”
Kayla hesitated. Violet noticed Kayla had a serious sort of face. Her lips were thin and a bit pale, her eyebrows were light, her eyes a cool gray-blue. She didn’t seem like the kind of girl who smiled much.
Violet made room on her blanket. Kayla sat down and took out a sharpened pencil and began to sketch a nearby tree.
Violet tried not to watch. She tried to concentrate on her own picture. But Kayla was sitting close enough so Violet couldn’t help but see what Kayla was drawing.
“That’s really good,” Violet said. Violet wasn’t just being nice. Kayla’s picture was good. Kayla sketched with light, soft touches of her pencil, perfectly capturing the rough texture of the bark and the shape of the trunk.
“So is yours,” Kayla said.
“I like to draw,” Violet said.
“Me, too,” Kayla said.
Violet returned to her drawing, deeply surprised. Kayla was nothing at all like she expected. She’d had the feeling all along that people were wrong about Kayla. Now she knew for sure that people were misjudging her.
The girls sat quietly, drawing, until Violet noticed, from the slant of the sun, that dinner time was approaching.
“I should go home now,” she said. “I’m supposed to be back before dinner.”