said.
“I never would be,” I told him. “I wouldn’t be good at finances.”
“You have to be good at finances and you have to be good at telling people who need something you got it, but they can’t get it.”
“Like Fat Cat Duff,” said Bud.
“No name-calling, Bud,” said Mr. Kidder. “Parr here might be a friend of Mr. Duff’s.”
“Not me,” I said.
“I’ll tell you something funny about that daughter of his,” said Mrs. Kidder. “She come into the store and rented herself a P.O. box in the name of Jane Doe. I thought that was funny. Like John Doe? She paid up for six months, too.”
“Where’s this?” I asked.
“Mother works over at Barker’s General Store in King’s Corners,” said Mr. Kidder, who called his wife “Mother” just as she called him “Father.”
“They have a post office in there,” said Mrs. Kidder.
“And the best pies anywhere because Mother bakes them.”
“Patsy Duff rented a box there?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I’d heard right.
Mrs. Kidder was nodding, but before she could speak, Mr. Kidder said, “Mother, I don’t think it’s supposed to be public information who rents those boxes.”
“Doesn’t she go off somewhere to private school?” said Bud. “Over near Jeff City?”
“Father’s right,” Mrs. Kidder said. “It’s none of our business. Forget I said anything about it.”
“We’re having apple pie for dessert,” said Angel. “And I made the crust. It’s made of graham crackers.” Finally, Angel and I got off alone together. We took a long walk around Sunflower Park.
“How come I got invited today?” I asked her.
“Daddy wanted to meet this person ringing me up so much.”
“I couldn’t help it.”
“I know. I was glad.”
“Why is that?”
“If you tell me why you couldn’t help it, I’ll tell you why I was glad.”
“Because you’re like some new color I’ve never seen,” I said. It was a direct quote from an Evie Burrman “statement.” Sometimes she’d leave her notebook somewhere downstairs. I’d sneak fast looks. I almost thought she left it there wanting us to see it. It must have been hard for Evie to try and keep it all inside. I couldn’t have.
Angel drew in her breath and shook her head, and let her breath out again. I could see it wisping ahead of us in the cold air. “I’m not that good at putting things,” she said.
“I’m not either, Angel. I don’t know where that came from.”
“From the heart,” she almost whispered.
“Yeah,” I said softly.
It was nice.
It wasn’t like any other moment. We both knew something had happened to us because of each other.
I didn’t even care that that was all there was to it.
More was coming, and I knew it.
16
A ND HERE’S SOME STRANGE news , Doug wrote, that I forgot to mention when we talked at New Year’s. Bella has become a vegetarian. She and some other Tri Delts made up their minds never again to eat anything that had a face. They have their own table in the sorority house , and they call themselves The Vicious Veggies—vicious because they’re vegetarians with a vengeance. They won’t date anyone who eats meat , fowl , or fish ! So guess what yours truly has to live on ? Pasta , mostly. I’ve got pasta coming out of my ears !
Dad and Evie and I were riding back from a used-farm-equipment sale where we’d gotten a rotary mower we’d been looking for.
It was a dirty thing the farmer hadn’t bothered to clean properly. Its big blades were crusted with dried grass and mud, but it would mow the big pastures over at Atlees’ just fine once it was oiled and waxed and put in the shed until spring.
We kept everything at our place shipshape. Dad was best at appearance upkeep, and I helped him, but it was Evie who tackled anything mechanical. She was good at any kind of repair.
Evie always drove us anywhere we were going.
She was loosening the red scarf around her neck and laughing at Doug’s letter, which Mom had told me to
“I never would be,” I told him. “I wouldn’t be good at finances.”
“You have to be good at finances and you have to be good at telling people who need something you got it, but they can’t get it.”
“Like Fat Cat Duff,” said Bud.
“No name-calling, Bud,” said Mr. Kidder. “Parr here might be a friend of Mr. Duff’s.”
“Not me,” I said.
“I’ll tell you something funny about that daughter of his,” said Mrs. Kidder. “She come into the store and rented herself a P.O. box in the name of Jane Doe. I thought that was funny. Like John Doe? She paid up for six months, too.”
“Where’s this?” I asked.
“Mother works over at Barker’s General Store in King’s Corners,” said Mr. Kidder, who called his wife “Mother” just as she called him “Father.”
“They have a post office in there,” said Mrs. Kidder.
“And the best pies anywhere because Mother bakes them.”
“Patsy Duff rented a box there?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I’d heard right.
Mrs. Kidder was nodding, but before she could speak, Mr. Kidder said, “Mother, I don’t think it’s supposed to be public information who rents those boxes.”
“Doesn’t she go off somewhere to private school?” said Bud. “Over near Jeff City?”
“Father’s right,” Mrs. Kidder said. “It’s none of our business. Forget I said anything about it.”
“We’re having apple pie for dessert,” said Angel. “And I made the crust. It’s made of graham crackers.” Finally, Angel and I got off alone together. We took a long walk around Sunflower Park.
“How come I got invited today?” I asked her.
“Daddy wanted to meet this person ringing me up so much.”
“I couldn’t help it.”
“I know. I was glad.”
“Why is that?”
“If you tell me why you couldn’t help it, I’ll tell you why I was glad.”
“Because you’re like some new color I’ve never seen,” I said. It was a direct quote from an Evie Burrman “statement.” Sometimes she’d leave her notebook somewhere downstairs. I’d sneak fast looks. I almost thought she left it there wanting us to see it. It must have been hard for Evie to try and keep it all inside. I couldn’t have.
Angel drew in her breath and shook her head, and let her breath out again. I could see it wisping ahead of us in the cold air. “I’m not that good at putting things,” she said.
“I’m not either, Angel. I don’t know where that came from.”
“From the heart,” she almost whispered.
“Yeah,” I said softly.
It was nice.
It wasn’t like any other moment. We both knew something had happened to us because of each other.
I didn’t even care that that was all there was to it.
More was coming, and I knew it.
16
A ND HERE’S SOME STRANGE news , Doug wrote, that I forgot to mention when we talked at New Year’s. Bella has become a vegetarian. She and some other Tri Delts made up their minds never again to eat anything that had a face. They have their own table in the sorority house , and they call themselves The Vicious Veggies—vicious because they’re vegetarians with a vengeance. They won’t date anyone who eats meat , fowl , or fish ! So guess what yours truly has to live on ? Pasta , mostly. I’ve got pasta coming out of my ears !
Dad and Evie and I were riding back from a used-farm-equipment sale where we’d gotten a rotary mower we’d been looking for.
It was a dirty thing the farmer hadn’t bothered to clean properly. Its big blades were crusted with dried grass and mud, but it would mow the big pastures over at Atlees’ just fine once it was oiled and waxed and put in the shed until spring.
We kept everything at our place shipshape. Dad was best at appearance upkeep, and I helped him, but it was Evie who tackled anything mechanical. She was good at any kind of repair.
Evie always drove us anywhere we were going.
She was loosening the red scarf around her neck and laughing at Doug’s letter, which Mom had told me to
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