Читать книгу Quilt of Dreams - Michael Ph.D Markey - Страница 3

“Hey, listen to this, guys. C’mon, it is so cool.”

The chatter on the school bus stopped for the moment. Everyone recognized the piercing voice of little Ryan Marsico, the neighborhood bigmouth of Limestone Way.

“Thirteen days. Thirteen days. I won’t see Miss Louden for thirteen days. C’mon, everybody…help me out now.”

All the kids joined in.

“Thirteen days. Thirteen days. He won’t see Miss Louden for thirteen days.” His fellow students repeated the chant, only a little louder this time. “Thirteen days. Thirteen days. He won’t see Miss Louden for thirteen days.”

“Lucky for her, kid. And I won’t see you for thirteen days either,” bus driver Mister Owen muttered to himself as the chant continued, all the way to the next stop. “Sometimes I just don’t understand these kids, with all their stinking noise.”

Normally he would raise a fuss about distractions, and then give the big sermon about how it made safe driving impossible for him. But after all, this was the last school day before their Christmas break, so why not give them a chance to let off a little steam on the way home. Mister Owen simply gave a sigh, took another relaxing sip from his convenience store coffee cup, pulled the folding door shut and continued to his next stop.

What a great day for Kristen Marsh: December twenty-third, and school was over until the Monday after New Year’s Day. She could simply not wait to be on her Christmas vacation, off for big holiday adventures with her good friends up and down the block. It wasn’t that she didn’t like school and Miss Finnegan, her teacher – because she was a good student, really - especially in reading and writing for she loved to use her imagination in those subjects. But it was time to put away the nasty old books until 2009, and just play for a few days.

Kristen felt very much at home in her neighborhood just five miles outside Philadelphia. Across the street lived her curly blonde-haired best friend Katie Weber, who was also in Miss Finnegan’s class. Since she (Katie) moved in three years ago, the “K” sisters, as they were called, did nearly everything together. They went for long bike rides around the block, the girls shared computer time at Kristen’s house, and sometimes they even got into trouble side by side. Like the time the two of them strayed off from Katie’s mother while shopping at the mall – just not paying attention while her mom was in the changing room – which nearly got them left behind in a Macy’s one scary Saturday evening at the King of Prussia Mall. Thank goodness for some very considerate (and forgiving) security ladies who finally discovered them off in a dark corner of the Kids Department.

Mostly though, they were good ten-year-old girls who enjoyed their days with each other. And for the next thirteen of them there was no school to keep them from having fun at home. Kristen’s family would simply make a quick trip to her grandparent’s home upstate in Pennsylvania for Christmas, and then it was back to 443 Limestone Way again for the rest of the holiday with friends.

The bright orange-and- black school bus came to a halt down the street from Kristen’s house. Neighborhood kids clambered out, laughing and screaming, some still singing the songs they learned for the Christmas play that was performed earlier this morning. Making things even better, skies were cloudy. Maybe – just maybe – there would be snow for Christmas, and not just a wimpy coating to make the sidewalks slippery. How many years has it been since there were a few inches of snow on the ground this time in December?

“Merry Christmas, Kristen,” said Katie as she gave her best friend a mighty hug right there on the sidewalk in front of the Marsh home. “I’ll miss you so much!”

“Oh it’s not all that long. My parents said we’re coming back the day after Christmas, you know.”

“Yeah, but even two days seems like almost forever.”

“I’ll tell Mom to call and talk about sleepovers when I get back.”

“Remember now; don’t open my present until Christmas morning. I know you, Kristen. You won’t wait, will you?”

“Oh, you can trust me. I can wait until Christmas morning,” she replied with fingers crossed behind her back.

“Call me while you’re away, okay?”

“I know Grandma will let me do that. See you in a few days, Katie.”

Kristen dashed inside the house and pulled off her snug pink winter coat, along with the scarf of crazy bright froggy designs. She hung them on one of the hooks to the left of the front door.

“Mom - where are you?”

“In the laundry room, dear. How was school today?”

“All kinds of fun. We did great in the play. Johnny Stover didn’t get anything wrong when he sang his solo. But then, I knew he wouldn’t.” Kristen thought Johnny S. was kind of “cool”, even if he was one of those boys who didn’t have a clue there were girls in his class.

“That’s wonderful, Kristen. Ready for your after-school snack?”

“What do we have?”

“On a cold day like this, would a hot cup of cocoa warm you up?”

“With marshmallows and some of your snicker doodles?”

“Coming right up.”

Her mother got the clothing moved over to the dryer and came into the kitchen to make cocoa. Kristen pulled up a stool at the counter and sat down, humming to herself. As she watched the pan of dark chocolaty milk getting hot on the stove, her mother took a seat beside Kristen.

“Sweetheart, I want to talk with you about something.”

“What is it? Is it about the presents again, the ones we can’t get, because of Dad’s work?”

“Yes – that - and there was another thing.”

“I know you and Dad can’t get me everything I asked for. You already told me all this.” Kristen thought a moment. “Maybe I just asked for too much this year.”

Kristen’s mother smiled at her daughter, a proud smile for her child’s wisdom. “No doubt about it, you are growing up, young lady. Things are not going well for us, and you understand our situation. We talked about how your dad is losing his job at the end of next month (It had to be at Christmas, of all times.), and that life will be a little different until he finds something new.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“As you know, it’s been difficult for him the last six months.”

“But I don’t understand why he spends so much time at the office if that place is going away soon.”

Kristen’s mother thought for a moment. “Yes, it’s not easy to explain why people must work harder than before, even when the business is closing for good. I suppose you could say that they – the workers who are left – try to help the company survive, but sometimes even your best isn’t good enough, and there’s nothing one person can do about it. And now, your dad will need to start over and find something new.”

“Is it hard to do? This ‘start over’ thing?”

“It can be. Honey, all I can say is that we need to be patient and loving with your father right now. He’ll need all the support we have to give, okay?”

“He’ll be fine, Mom. Dad is very strong. And when other people see how he’s not a quitter and that he works hard even when things look bad…”

“You really do understand.” She wrapped an arm around her daughter. “That is so right, Kristen. Anyway, you know we are going to see Grandpa and Grandma for Christmas. You always enjoy that, don’t you?”

“I do love running around that big old house. I remember when I was little – you know, five or so? Back then I thought that house was so spooky, mostly at night when it was dark, and I thought I could hear it actually screech and moan, and I pretended there were ghosts and stuff in the house.”

“Especially the time we went there at Halloween.”

“Oh yeah, Mom. I still get shivers thinking about that year. But now that I think about it, there are just so many rooms to play and hide. I always like going there anyway. And Grandpa and Grandma are fun people, not like some of the other grandparents I hear about at school. Katie tells me hers are old, and they smell funny.”

“Now that’s not a very kind thing to say about older people. Sometimes they just can’t help it. It’s part of being old. So you girls must show a little respect.”

“Well anyway, Grandma and Grandpa aren’t like that at all.”

“I’m certain they’ll be glad to hear that. Actually, it’s good you feel that way because I talked to Grandma on Sunday and I asked if it would be okay for you to stay with them for a few days after Christmas.”

“Uh, Mom? Why is that?” Kristen asked, startled by her mother’s request to Grandma.

“It has to do with your dad’s job hunting we must do over the holidays. He needs to be looking for a new place to work, and we’ll be traveling around a bit to see what he can find.”

Many nights, at dinner, Kristen’s parents talked a lot about her dad’s work, and how things might change for the Marsh family. But when it becomes a ‘definite’, and not just a ‘might be’, more and more questions popped into Kristen’s young mind.

“Will it mean we won’t be able to live here in this house any more?”

“Let’s hope we won’t need to move away. If your dad isn’t working for a while, he’ll be getting a little money, something called unemployment compensation. This will help to pay the bills and put food on the table. And I still have my books to help make us some money to keep our home.”

Kristen loved to read the books her mother wrote, the ones that said ‘Written by Andrea Marsh’ on the cover. The stories were about Gretchen, a girl who went off on exciting adventures because of the dreams she had (a girl so much like herself). And her mother got money every few months for writing these thrilling stories, something she called a royalty check. Mom was always excited when one of these checks arrived, and she took them to the bank quickly, to get money for the family.

“Maybe I should just stay here instead.”

Kristen’s mother smiled. “I’m sure there’s a lot you could do to help your father, but I don’t think it would be much fun for you. So I asked Grandma if you could stay with them for part of your Christmas vacation. They don’t get the chance to keep you these days with school and all.”

“But Mom…what about Katie and all my friends? We had all these plans for things to do when I got back – right after Christmas – like sleepovers, and stuff.”

“It will just have to wait a few days, that’s all. What’s so difficult about that?”

“But I told Katie…,” she began to wail.

“C’mon now…no whining. Please don’t make this difficult.”

“But…but what if I have ‘problems’? The dreams, you know. Stuff like that?”

Andrea Marsh thought for a moment. What could she tell her daughter?

“Oh Kristen…your grandmother will understand perfectly. Don’t give it another thought.”

Perfectly? Why could she understand so perfectly?