Beat the Turtle Drum by Constance C. Greene

I’d hold him for you. Old Bert Essig’s good as his word, eh?”
    Sometimes I think Mr. Essig’s seen too many movies. He seems to be playing a role lots of times.
    Old Bert wrinkled his brow and scratched his ear. He does quite a lot of scratching, I’ve noticed.
    â€œI’m all jammed up today. Saturday’s my busy day,” he said. I looked around. He didn’t seem all that busy to me. I’ve also noticed that people who talk about how busy they are all the time actually aren’t.
    â€œThe wife and me is going to Trumbull tomorrow to see her folks. How about Monday?”
    Joss turned those eyes of hers on him. “Oh, today, please. I’ve waited such a long time. It’s my birthday.”
    â€œWell, now,” Mr. Essig boomed, “why didn’t you say so? In that case, today it is. Wait’ll I run in and tell Ethel we got a birthday girl visiting. Ethel! Get out here!”
    Apparently that was Mr. Essig’s idea of running in to tell Ethel.
    â€œHey, little fella, where’d you come from?” Mr. Essig had caught sight of Tootie, who had been hiding behind me and Joss. Tootie is shy with new people.
    â€œThis is my friend Tootie Simms,” Joss said. She gave him a little push, and he said, “Hi,” to Mr. Essig.
    Mrs. Essig came out on the porch. She had a new hairdo. Not only that, her hair was a brand-new color. When the sun hit the surface of Mrs. Essig’s coiffure, the light was blinding.
    â€œYour hair looks beautiful,” Joss said.
    Mrs. Essig patted the swirls and curls and smiled.
    â€œMy girl friend Sheila did it for me. She works down at the La Mode beauty salon. She’s very creative. I like to get my hair fixed before I go up to see my folks. Come on in and have a cup of coffee. Haven’t seen you all in ages.”
    â€œEthel!” Mr. Essig bellowed. “We’ve got a birthday girl here. It’s the little one’s birthday today, and we promised to get Prince over pronto.”
    Mrs. Essig’s eye lit upon Tootie. “I didn’t know you had a little brother,” she said. “Isn’t he cute!” She made a move toward him. I think she was going to kiss him. That really would’ve finished Tootie off for the day. Not only was she a stranger but a lady stranger about to put the moves on him. He hid behind me and hung on to my belt.
    â€œHe’s just a friend,” I explained. “He came with us to arrange about vanning Prince over.”
    I guess she got the message because she said, “All of you come and sit down. I’ve got a fresh pot on the stove.”
    Joss was inside and sitting down in a flash.
    â€œPot of what?” Tootie said in a hoarse voice.
    â€œCoffee,” I said, dragging him in with me. “Your kitchen is very homey,” I told Mrs. Essig. It was sunny and clean and smelled good.
    â€œYou think he’s too young?” Mrs. Essig asked, the pot poised in front of Tootie, who remained speechless.
    I don’t think he’d probably ever had coffee. Certainly not the kind Mrs. Essig brewed.
    â€œHe can have a little of mine,” I said.
    â€œWhich birthday is this?” Mrs. Essig said, putting the carton of milk on the table. She hardly ever sat down, I noticed. Mostly she circled the table, making sure everyone had what they wanted. She was a good hostess.
    â€œI’m eleven,” Joss said.
    â€œEleven,” she said. “I remember clear as day when I was eleven. My brother Mike and his girl friend took me to Sherwood Island for the day. We had soda and cooked hot dogs and played soft ball. Afterwards they took me to the movies. Mike bought two bags of popcorn, one for them and one just for me.” She smiled, remembering. “Wait a sec,” she said and went into her bedroom. We heard her opening drawers. Tootie took a sip of my coffee which had plenty of milk and sugar in it. He made a face. I could