The Last Noel by Michael Malone Page A

basket. “Happy Birthday.”
    In his arms the basket shook and a mewling cry came from within. When he opened the top, a little black puppy struggled to its feet, then fell over. “What's this suppose to be?” said Kaye, although he knew why she’d done it.
    Noni smiled. “You were always telling me, ‘I want a puppy but I can’t take one back to Philly.’ So now you’re staying here, so now you can have one.”
    â€œWhere’d you get it?”
    â€œIt's a boy. My dad and I bought him at a pet store. He's a Labrador.”
    Scowling, Kaye put down the basket, pulled the puppy out of it, and examined him as the little dog tried to gnaw on his fingers. “What? You picked him ’cause he reminded you of me ’cause he's black?”
    Noni stamped her foot in exasperation. “No. I picked him ’cause he reminded me of you ’cause he was an asshole who doesn’t even know how to say thank you.” She turned and marched off across the lawn.
    Kaye watched her go. When she was halfway across the lawn he called out into the dark, “Thanks.”
    â€œYou’re welcome!” was shouted back.

    On Monday morning of the following week, Wade was driving Noni to school, in order, he told her, “to score Brownie points” with their mother before she saw his fall semester grades. As they started out, he was saying how, at the rock concert in Charlotte, some creep had defiled his Mustang with hippie bumper stickers. Noni was worrying that Wade was trying to trick her into admitting the vandalism, when suddenly she was thrown forward as he slammed on his brakes.
    The entrance to Heaven's Hill was being blocked by a yellow school bus. While Wade was cursing the bus, Noni saw Kaye stepping stiffly into it, his hands jammed down in the pockets of his pea jacket. Before she could think, she leapt with her notebooks and her purse out of the Mustang, calling back to Wade, “Nevermind, I’ll take the school bus.” She ran between the driveway columns over to the yellow vehicle, banging on its door just as it was closing.
    At first the driver, a plump sour woman, didn’t want to take on a passenger of whom she had no record. Noni spoke to her quickly (fearful that Wade would storm the door), but she kept her voice as quiet as her mother's. “I go to Gordon Junior High. I live here at Heaven's Hill.” She pointed up the driveway at the enormous house. “I’m Noelle Tilden. My mother's Judy Gordon Tilden. My mother told me to take this bus.” While Noni was talking, she glanced back into the body of the bus, quickly spotting Kaye, the only black person on it (there were only four blacks in the whole school, for all the others who lived in Moors lived in a different district). Two-thirds of the way down the aisle, he sat alone in a double seat, pressed against the window, ignoring her.
    Silently the driver struggled with the girl for authority but finally she decided against taking the risk of trouble, with the house up that hill looking so large, and the name Gordon dropped so significantly. Besides, the horn of the Mustang was beeping non-stop, presumably because she was blocking thedriveway. So with a shrug, she pulled the lever that closed the door and told Noni to sit down.
    Noni knew many of the students riding the bus, and more than that number knew her. She was aware that her name gave her power, made her popular. Everyone knew that Noelle Katherine Tilden lived in Heaven's Hill and wore stylish clothes, that her grandfather owned the bank and much of the town's real estate and had the same name as the school. Several seventh-graders greeted her as she passed them and offered to share their seats. She could feel them craning their necks to gawk back at her when she sat down beside Kaye.
    Staring out the window, he didn’t turn his head, but as the bus moved bumpily forward, she could feel a little of the tightness