Читать книгу A Walk in the Park - Grace Casselman - Страница 6

What a mess,” said Terra, tripping over bits of wood and dropsheets as she stepped in the front door of the new house.

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t take too long,” replied her mother, smoothly stepping over a hammer. “This house just needs some work. But yes, it’s too bad it wasn’t done before we moved in. In any case, your dad’s work is paying for it, so we can’t complain too much.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Terra shook some sawdust off her shoes.

“Of course, he gets to escape to the office all day,” said her mom, hanging her coat in the closet. “Just think of me trying to work here, to the sound of sawing and drilling. I can only imagine what the potential clients on the phone think when they hear the background noise!”

Terra’s mom was trying to start up a small public relations firm from her home office.

Terra smiled. “Just tell them you’re so successful, you’re in the middle of an expansion!”

“Good idea!” laughed her mom. “Wanna help me unpack some dishes?”

Terra scrunched up her face, but nodded, following her mother into the kitchen. They chatted a bit but mostly just unwrapped glasses and plates and placed them in the cupboards in their new kitchen. That was kind of fun, actually, because Terra felt like she was making major decisions about where things would go from here on in.

“Oh, we don’t need that,” said her mom, referring to the blue plastic milkbag container in Terra’s hands.

“What? Why not?”

“I was out grocery shopping, and they sell milk in plastic bottles here, not bags. So I guess we won’t have any use for that.”

Terra frowned. “You’re not going to throw it out?”

“Well, the cupboard space is rather limited, I don’t really see the point in keeping it.”

Terra thought about all the milk she’d drunk out of bags in that holder. It seemed wrong to throw it out, just because it didn’t fit in. “I want it.”

Her mother looked bemused but nodded. “Sure, dear.”

Terra headed for the stairs, clutching her milkbag holder. She heard a strange noise and spun around.

A very large man with a full red beard appeared in the hall, dragging a step-ladder behind him. “Why, hello,” he said cheerfully. “Who are you?”

“Terra,” she answered, then blurted out, “I live here.”

“Well, that’s great,” he grinned. “I’m Fred. Fred the Fixer, they call me.”

She smiled. “Sorta like Bob the Builder?”

“Exactly,” laughed Fred. “Just let me get this out of your way,” He dragged the ladder out of her path.

“Oh, you’re done?” she asked hopefully.

“No, no, just for today. But don’t worry, it’s going to be great.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied noncommittally, looking around at the mess. There was a pile of wood in one corner, along with several cans of paint. Another wall was lined with toolboxes.

He smiled at her. “So, what do you think of Inglewood?”

She shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“Just okay?” he raised an eyebrow. “You make any friends yet?”

She thought briefly of Glenn, but then again, he’d just thrown her a wave as he ran out when the class bell rang. No one else had really talked to her, although she’d felt a lot of eyes following her around.

“Well, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll make friends. You’re personable, aren’t you?” said Fred, wiping his hands on his overalls. “If you’re friendly, people will be friendly to you!”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Actually, it wasn’t as easy as that.

Joyce and her friends continued to plague her whenever they got a chance.

Terra tried to ignore them. She told herself she wouldn’t let herself be cowed by a couple of bullies.

So why, she asked herself, hadn’t she worn blue since that strange encounter?

Then again, she only had that one blue shirt, anyhow. No point over-wearing it, right?

To be fair, the other kids at Inglewood Junior High weren’t particularly unfriendly, but they seemed to be settled in established groups of friends. A few kids here and there eyed her with apparent interest, but no one approached her. And Terra didn’t have the nerve just to sit down with strangers at lunch without being invited.

After several days of solitary lunch hours, Terra thought perhaps things were looking up.

Walking down the hall, she recognized a familiar face. Glenn was leaning against a locker, chatting with three girls. “Hey, Terra,” he called, waving her over. “You should meet some friends of mine.” He waved idly in the direction of the girls. “This is Kaitlin, and Tracy and Winter. And this is Terra—T-E-R-R-A,” he spelled, grinning.

Tracy, a petite dark-haired girl, just nodded. Actually, she didn’t look all that friendly.

“Ah, Terra like ‘earth’ in Latin,” said Winter. She was tall and attractive, with curly black hair and dark skin, dressed in bold red and purple stripes. “That’s a great name.” She smiled warmly at Terra. “Welcome to Inglewood Junior High, girl.” She held out her hand.

“Oh,” Terra blushed and shook the proffered hand. “Thanks.” Then, uncertain what to say, she added: “I was just going to say how much I liked the name Winter.”

Winter’s smile broadened. “Thanks.”

Kaitlin dropped her books loudly in the bottom of the locker. She pulled a large straw hat over her long medium-brown hair. “Hey!” she protested, targeting her grin at Terra. “Doesn’t anybody like my name?”

“Don’t answer that,” interjected Winter. “She’s sufficiently self-absorbed as it is!”

“I never!” exclaimed Kaitlin, looking indignant. “What impudent slander!”

“I beg to differ,” Winter replied smoothly. “Justifiable commentary, I say.”

Then they both burst out laughing.

Terra blinked.

“They do this,” Glenn whispered, shrugging. “Just ignore it. We all do.”

“Glenn Waters,” admonished Kaitlin. “Just because we’re choosing to . . .” she paused, “. . . exercise our vocabularies, there’s no need to be rude.” She shook her head and turned her back on him. “So, where are you from?”

“Oh. Uh, Ottawa.”

Winter whistled. “Wow. That’s a long way.”

“Have you been up the CN Tower?” interjected Tracy.

Terra squinted. “Well, yeah. But you know that’s in Toronto, right?”

Tracy shrugged. “It’s all in Ontario, isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah. But it’s a big province.”

“That’s for sure,” said Winter. “But Ottawa’s a beautiful city. My family went there a couple of summers ago. We saw the parliament buildings and visited the National Art Gallery. It was great.”

Terra nodded, feeling a bit of a pang. “Yeah. I didn’t want to leave, but the engineering company my dad works for transferred him here for work.”

Kaitlin and Winter smiled at her sympathetically.

Tracy just looked bored. “Calgary’s a better city anyway.”

“What do you miss most?” asked Kaitlin, curiously.

“Well, I definitely miss my friends. And . . . I guess the trees?”

“What do you mean? We have trees.”

“Yeah . . . but I’m just not seeing the bush, the forest, that one sees in Ontario. Especially as you move into Northern Ontario, where we used to vacation. Out here, it just seems really . . . open and bare.”

Winter nodded. “It’s the prairies . . . you’ll grow to like it. At least, that’s what my father says. He grew up in Montreal, and says he never wants to leave Alberta. Hey . . . we’d better get going, or we’re going to be late.”

To prove the point, just then the bell rang, and everyone rushed off to class. Terra hurried past Mr. Brenner, who stood in the hall, frowning at her.

At lunch in the cafeteria, Terra saw the girls, Tracy, Kaitlin and Winter, drop their knapsacks at a table for four. Kaitlin and Winter headed up to the counter to place their orders.

Terra carried her tray over to the table and smiled brightly at Tracy. “Hi, there!”

Tracy nodded briefly, digging in a lunch bag. “Hi.”

Terra felt a little flustered. She felt as though the kids at the next table were all staring at her. “Oh, uh, we met earlier today,” said Terra. “Glenn introduced us?”

Tracy nodded and shrugged. “Yeah. I remember.”

“Well . . . is it okay if I sit with you guys?”

Tracy’s eyes flickered to the empty seat beside her. She looked over her shoulder at the other girls in line, then back at Terra. “Sorry,” she said flatly. “They’re all saved.”

“Oh,” said Terra, embarrassed. “Uh, sure . . .”

Tracy resumed her examination of her lunch, and Terra backed away, almost running into a huge senior carrying an overflowing tray. “Hey, careful, kid,” he growled.

Terra fled to the other side of her room and dropped into the first empty seat.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if that seat’s taken?” a dry voice inquired mildly.

Terra, still flushed, blinked. She took in the long brown hair and the gum chewing. “You’re in my math class,” she blurted out.

The other girl raised an eyebrow.

Terra swallowed. “I’m sorry, is this seat saved?”

“Naw.” She shrugged and smacked her gum.

“Oh. Good. Um, my name’s Terra.”

“Yeah, I heard that in class.”

“So . . .” Terra ventured. “What’s your name?”

The girl paused her chewing. She looked Terra up and down, still with a raised eyebrow.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, she smiled. The effect was dramatic. She looked almost friendly. “Blaine. How d’ya do?”

Terra had to step over a small pile of wood to make her way into the kitchen.

“Mom!” she yelled. “This place is a mess!”

“Oh, don’t you worry. Before long, everything will be just beautiful,” said a deep but mild voice behind her.

Terra shrieked and spun around.

“Oh,” she said, with her hand at her throat. “Fred! I didn’t know you were still here.”

He blinked at her. His red beard was pale, spotted with sawdust. “Just heading out for the evening. Your mom’s up in her office.”

“So how long is all this going to take?”

“Oh, not long, not long. But then again, it’s hard to know.” Fred shook his head, almost sorrowfully. He peered at her from under his bushy eyebrows and grinned. “So how’s school going?”

“Not so good,” Terra frowned and shrugged. “I miss my friends at my old school. The kids at this school don’t seem all that nice.” ’

“No?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Well, give them a chance. I’m sure there’s got to be somebody you’ll like.”

“Yeah.” She looked at the floor, and then back up at Fred. “But what if they don’t like me?”

“Oh,” Fred laughed and waved his hand at her. “Don’t worry about that! What’s not to like?”

“Yeah,” she repeated, unconvinced. “What’s not to like?”

Her father unwittingly echoed the same topic over dinner.

“Hey, Terra . . .” He pushed some wood aside and took his place at the dining room table. He smiled at his wife and daughter and said the grace.

“Well, Terra, how do you like your new school?”

She shrugged.

Her parents looked at her expectantly.

“Well . . . it’s okay.”

“You don’t like it, Terra?” her mom asked. Her voice had a worried tone.

Her father paused, mid-bite, waiting for her answer.

“The classes seem okay,” she added, “but I don’t really know anybody, so it’s not all that fun.”

“So make some friends,” said her father bluntly.

Terra frowned, but her mother interjected. “Jack, you can’t just order her to make friends—that’s not how it works.”

“It wasn’t an order,” he protested. “Just a suggestion.”

“Well, I’m sure she’s trying!” Her mom turned an anxious eye in Terra’s direction. “You are trying, aren’t you, dear?”

Terra sighed.

“Because sometimes you can be kind of grumpy.”

“What?” said her dad. “No way. Terra’s the friendliest sort there is.” He reached over and touched her on the shoulder. “Right, kid?”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Terra, squinting at her mom. Grumpy?

“So you’re going to make some friends?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Her mom watched her worriedly.

“That’s my girl,” said her dad with an approving nod.

Terra glumly pushed her food around, while her father enthusiastically finished off his plate.

Lisa too tried to be encouraging when she phoned later that evening.

“Oh, you’ll make friends at your new school, Terra. Didn’t you have lots of friends here?”

“I guess. But we all grew up together.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t matter. I’m sure the kids there will think you’re just as nice as we do.” Lisa had that familiar teasing, cajoling note in her voice.

Terra rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” she said, settling in a big armchair for a prolonged chat-fest.

But it wasn’t to be. “Hey, I can’t talk long,” Lisa said. “I just wanted to say a quick hello. Some of the girls are coming over to work on a biology project.”

“Oh,” said Terra. She felt a bit of a pang, because she wasn’t one of the girls going over to Lisa’s.

“We’re doing experiments on bean sprouts.”

“Yeah, well . . . I’ll see you,” said Terra. She hung up the phone, lay on her bed and stared at her ceiling for a long time.

Dear Diary:

My parents don’t understand what they’re putting me through. Basically they just uprooted me, and they expect me to be happy about it.

The kids here aren’t very friendly. I tried to talk to a couple of them, but I didn’t get very far.

I miss my old friends, especially Lisa. She phoned me tonight and told me the people who bought our old house are painting it pink. Pink! What was wrong with off-white, I’d like to know!

I got an A on today’s surprise math quiz. I think the girl behind me might have been trying to copy my answers.

Terra closed her diary and shoved it into her drawer.

Then, on impulse, she dug for the envelope that she kept beneath her underwear and pulled out the two photos. The first showed a young woman with long dark hair and brown eyes, not unlike Terra’s own. She turned it over; all that was written on the back was “Donna”.

The other photo showed the same woman smiling into the camera, leaning against a pillow, clutching a small baby. “A rather ugly baby, with a pointy head,” Terra thought to herself, with a frown.

There was a small crumpled note in the envelope, but Terra didn’t open it. She held it in the palm of her hand for a moment, then suddenly shoved everything back in the envelope. Carefully, she slid the envelope back beneath the underwear.