Читать книгу A Walk in the Park - Grace Casselman - Страница 7

Terra could feel her heart pounding against the walls of her chest. She bent over to take a deep breath, just in time to hear Ms. Brown, the gym teacher, bellow: “Keep moving, Terra, you’ve got to keep your heart rate up.”

Terra managed an insincere smile for the teacher and began to run. Finally, she came to the end of the track. Blaine lounged in her gym clothes on the bleachers.

“Hey. You don’t have to run?”

“Naw.” Blaine loudly smacked her gum. “I’ve got terrible cramps.”

Terra looked at her dubiously. The other girl looked cheerful enough.

Blaine grinned. Then, as if to demonstrate the point, she grabbed her stomach and moaned pathetically.

Terra blinked. “Ah. Does that work?”

Blaine shrugged philosophically. “Sorta. They used to make me run anyhow. So I took it up with the vice-principal.” She grinned. “I went crying to his office. He was very uncomfortable . . . Long story short: now I get gym class off once a month.” Blaine took out a little bottle and started painting her nails a bright red.

Ms. Brown frowned at them. “Blaine, are you doing that extra health homework?”

“Yeah, Ms. Brown.” Blaine patted the book on the bleacher beside her. “I’m working on it.”

The teacher looked like she wanted to say more. Instead she clapped her hands together. “Come on, Terra, one more lap!”

Blaine laughed softly. “See ya.”

Terra began running again.

A whistle blew shrilly. “Faster, Terra, faster,” urged Ms. Brown.

Terra thought she could hear the sound of laughter behind her.

The changeroom smelled. But it wasn’t so much the sweat and running shoes as the proliferation of perfumes, deodorants, gels and hairsprays that gave the girls’ changeroom its distinctive odour.

The sound of the girls’ chatter seemed to echo off the high ceiling, doubling its intensity. As the other girls moved out of the changeroom, the sudden silence seemed rather eerie.

Terra stuffed her gym clothes into her bag.

“Hey, there,” said a friendly voice.

Terra looked up, pleased. “Hi, Winter.”

“How’s it going?”

“I’m a bit worn out from running around the track.”

Winter sighed dramatically. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve got to look forward to.” She discarded her bright purple top for the standard gym jersey. “Too bad we’re not in the same class.”

“Ms. Brown is kind of tough, isn’t she?”

Winter pursed her lips. “Ah, I don’t know, she’s not so bad.” She grinned. “Maybe she likes you. Do you have . . .” Winter stressed the word, “potential”?

Terra laughed self-consciously and shook her head. “I’m not very good at sports.”

“Practice makes perfect. Well, sorta.” Winter smiled, wiggled into her purple running shoes. “I’d better get going. See ya around, Terra.” She waved and headed into the gym.

“Yeah, see you,” Terra echoed.

As Terra heaved her books into the bottom of her locker, she was surprised to see Blaine plop down on the floor beside her. “Heya.”

“Hi.” The other girl seemed to have warmed to her a bit, but Terra wasn’t quite sure what to make of her.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Um, just getting ready for home.”

“You gotta go there right away?”

“No-o,” Terra answered slowly. “Not really. Why?”

Blaine shrugged. “I like to hang out in the park.”

“Oh,” said Terra uncertainly. A park sounded nice, didn’t it?

“Well, uh, can I come?”

“Whatever. I don’t care.” And Blaine started off down the hall.

What? Terra stared, perplexed. But she quickly grabbed her homework, shut the locker and ran after Blaine.

“Hey look!” Terra pointed to a small brown animal, standing on its back legs, its head tilted curiously. It watched as the girls approached, then suddenly dashed into a hole.

Blaine gave her an odd look. “Uh . . . yeah? You’ve never seen a gopher before?”

“Oh, is that what it is? Yeah, I’ve seen a few of them since we got to Alberta. They’re really cute.”

“Heh. A lot of people here don’t like them very much.”

“Really? Why not?”

She shrugged. “They make holes and wreck lawns and gardens . . . I don’t know. I don’t care. Didn’t you have gophers in—where did you say you were from?”

“Ottawa. I don’t think so . . . we had a lot of groundhogs, though. I haven’t seen any here . . . do you have them?”

Blaine shrugged. “What do they look like?”

“Well, they’re bigger and fatter. Sort of rabbit-sized. They get hit by cars a lot, on the highway.”

“Oh yeah? Cool,” grinned Blaine.

“Blaine!” exclaimed Terra, indignant.

“Oh. Uh . . . yeah, that’s too bad, I mean.”

“I think your rabbits are bigger, though.”

“Huh?”

“I mean I’ve seen some big . . . well, what we’d call jackrabbits, but not bunnies. Don’t you have bunnies here?”

Blaine chuckled. “Heh, bunnies.”

The two girls tramped through the grass then curled up under a big tree.

Blaine pulled out a bottle of polish and went to work on her nails. She didn’t seem to want to talk much, although Terra tried to start up a conversation.

“Have you lived in Inglewood long?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

Terra tried again. “So . . . do you like it?”

“Uh . . . whatever.”

Terra nodded. “Oh. Um . . . I just moved here.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

Blaine blew on her nails to dry them.

Terra leaned back against the tree, looking around the big park.

A lot of kids hung out in groups under the trees or sat on the benches. A few were reading—schoolbooks or magazines, but most just lounged around talking.

“Hey, Blaine,” greeted one tall lanky fellow. “Ya got a light?”

To Terra’s surprise, Blaine reached into her jean jacket and flipped a small object in his direction.

“Cool,” he said, catching it. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, puffing rapidly. He eyed Terra curiously.

“Hey. Who are you?”

Before Terra could respond, Blaine interjected: “That’s Terra, Pete.”

Terra nodded to him. She felt a bit uncomfortable. She wasn’t really used to being around smokers, and her parents wouldn’t be happy about it. Still, hanging out with these strange kids in the park seemed like a bit of an adventure.

Pete held the cigarette out to Terra. “Wanna smoke?”

Terra felt her heart skip a beat. She quickly shook her head.

Pete shrugged and took a long drag on the cigarette. He blew out the smoke then leaned over and kissed Blaine on the mouth.

Terra blinked in surprise, especially when Blaine reached over for the cigarette, inhaling deeply.

Another girl ran up and took the cigarette. “Who’s that?” She tilted her head at Terra.

“Terra,” answered Pete. “Gimme that smoke, Paula.”

Paula tossed her short blonde hair and took another puff on the cigarette before handing it back to Pete. “Hey, Blaine.”

“Hey.”

“I haven’t seen you before,” Paula said, almost challengingly.

Terra opened her mouth to reply, but Blaine beat her to it. “She’s new.”

Paula looked Terra up and down, then shrugged. “Whatever.” She walked off.

“Um. I should probably get going.”

Pete flicked the butt of the cigarette down and ground it out with his heel. “See ya.”

Blaine gave her a half-wave.

Terra waved hesitantly too and started walking towards home. These kids were strange.

To her surprise, she heard a deep voice calling her name. “Terra!”

Glenn ran up behind her. “Hey there! How’s it going?”

She gave a nervous laugh. “Okay. You?”

“Good!” He paused. “So, I saw you with those kids. You a smoker?”

“No . . . no. My parents would freak out. Um . . . are you?”

“Naw,” he shook his head. “Well, not any more.”

She wanted to ask more but wasn’t sure how to phrase it.

“Are you making many friends?”

Terra thought of the kids in the park. “A few.”

Glenn nodded. “Those girls I introduced you to—they’re cool.”

Terra thought of the disastrous encounter with Tracy in the cafeteria. “Yeah, they seemed . . . nice,” she responded lamely.

“So are you heading home?” Glenn gestured ahead of them.

“Yeah, it’s just a couple of blocks this way.”

“You mind if I walk with you?”

“Sure,” Terra stammered, flustered. Quickly, she added: “I mean, sure it’s okay. Sure it’s okay.”

She was still smiling when she walked through her front door into the foyer, but she stopped suddenly when the door banged into a ladder.

“Whoa.” Fred climbed laboriously down the ladder with a bucket of rose-colored paint in his hand. “I’m glad this didn’t fall on you.”

Terra blinked at him. “Yeah, me too. It’s not my colour.”

Fred laughed and set the can of paint on the floor. “Hey, that’s a good one. Not your colour . . .”

“Hey, Fred. There’s a really pretty bird outside, I was wondering if you know what kind it is.”

“Oh, yeah? What does it look like?” Fred walked over to the front entrance window and craned his head, for a sight of the bird.

“It’s black and white—it’s very striking.”

“Black and white? Black and white?!” He drew his eyebrows together, almost ferociously. “A magpie? You think a magpie is a pretty bird?!”

“I guess. You don’t like magpies?”

“Not really. They’re scavengers, like rats of the air.”

“Oh,” Terra blinked. “I thought they looked nice.”

“Mind you,” Fred continued thoughtfully. “Not that we have rats . . .”

“What?”

“Rats are illegal in Alberta.”

Terra laughed, thinking he was joking. “What do you mean?”

“Alberta is a rat-free province.”

She frowned. “But rats are everywhere, aren’t they?”

“Not in Alberta,” said Fred firmly. “I heard they can’t get across the mountains.”

“But what keeps them from crossing the Saskatchewan border?”

“The rat police.”

“What?” Terra giggled.

“I’m serious. There are rat police that patrol border farms, to kill any rats that might cross into the province.”

“Um . . .” Terra squinted at him, to see if he could possibly be kidding. But he looked serious.

“Why?”

“They carry diseases. Eat house foundations . . . you know, bad stuff.”

“I never heard of rats eating foundations in Ontario.”

“Well, we keep them out here . . . with the rat police,” Fred added cheerily.

Dear Diary:

I was told today that rats are illegal in Alberta. Do you think that can be true?”

My parents picked PINK for the walls in the front entranceway. I told Mom I hate pink, but she said it’s not pink, it’s rose. Isn’t that the same thing? Dad said just to think of it as slightly reddish off-white, but there’s no getting around it—it’s pink.

Why do girls get stuck with pukey pink anyhow? What makes pink more feminine than any of the good colours, like forest green or royal blue?

Glenn walked me home today—the first time a boy ever walked me home from school, unless you count Matthew from Grade Four. But then again, he was a really small kid, and I think he saw me as protection from the Grade Five bullies. I wonder who he’s walking home with now? Maybe he’s grown . . . ?

Did I mention that Glenn is really cute?

I hung out after school today with a girl named Blaine, from my math class. She smokes and seems to have a weird boyfriend, but at least she talks to me, sort of . . .