Читать книгу Turning Things Around - Valerie Tripp - Страница 5

it Kittredge grinned at the headline she had typed:

SPRING ARRIVALS

Spring, she thought. Now there is a word with some bounce to it.

It was a sunny Saturday morning in April. Kit was sitting at the desk in her attic room with all the windows wide open to the spring breezes. She and her best friend, Ruthie, were making a newspaper. What Kit was supposed to be making was her bed, but the newspaper was much more fun. Kit loved to write. She loved to call attention to what was new, or important, or remarkable. So, as often as she could, Kit made a newspaper for everyone in her house to read.

That was quite a few people these days! When Kit’s dad lost his job nine months ago because of the Depression, her family turned their home into a boarding house to earn money. Eleven people were living there now. Kit’s newspapers were read by her mother, dad, and older brother Charlie, two nurses named Miss Hart and Miss Finney, a musician named Mr. Peck, a friend of Mother’s named Mrs. Howard, and her son, Stirling, who was Kit’s age. At breakfast this morning, Kit had interviewed Mr. and Mrs. Bell, an elderly couple who had just moved in. Now she was writing an article about them to help everyone else get to know them.

‘Let’s all wellcome Mr. and Mrs. Bell,’ Kit typed. She stopped. “Hey, Ruthie,” she asked, “does welcome have one l or two?”

Ruthie started to answer. But suddenly, a gust of wind blew in through the window, swooped up all the papers on Kit’s desk, and sent them flying around the room like gigantic, clumsy butterflies. Ruthie and Kit both yelped. They sprang up to chase the papers and heard someone laughing.

It was Stirling. “Close the windows!” he said.

“Too late for that,” said Kit, laughing with him.

By now the papers had fluttered to the floor. Kit and Ruthie and Stirling knelt down to collect them.

Stirling held up a page that had been cut from a magazine. “What’s this?” he asked.

“Nothing!” said Kit, snatching it away.

“Nothing?” asked Stirling, in his voice that was surprisingly low for someone so little and skinny.

“Well,” said Kit, “it’s…a secret.”

“Oh,” said Stirling and Ruthie together.

Kit thought quickly. Her friends were good at keeping secrets—this she knew for sure. They were trustworthy, and they’d never laugh at her. She decided to let them in on her secret. “Promise you won’t tell,” she said.

“I promise,” said Ruthie, crossing her heart.

“Me, too,” said Stirling.

Kit stood next to them so that they could all look at the magazine page together. “It’s a picture of a birthday party for a movie star’s child,” she said. “See? Some of the kids are riding horses, and some are playing with bows and arrows, and they’re all dressed like characters from Robin Hood.”

“Your favorite book,” said Ruthie. “Oh, I love this picture!”

“Look in the trees,” Kit said enthusiastically. “There are ropes so the kids can swing from tree to tree like Robin and his men. And there are tree houses on different branches. There’s even one at the top of the tree, like the tower of a castle. Some of the kids are eating birthday cake up there.”

“Wow,” said Stirling quietly. He looked at Kit. His gray eyes were serious. “I think I know why this is a secret,” he said. “Because—”

“Because my birthday is coming up in May and I don’t want my parents to know that I’d love to have a party like this one!” Kit burst out. “It would only make them feel bad. I know they hate always having to say that we don’t have enough money.”

Ruthie looked sorry, and Stirling nodded. Kit was sure they understood. They both knew that the Kittredges were just scraping by. If Mr. Kittredge’s Aunt Millie had not sent them money, the Kittredges would have been evicted from their house right after Christmas because they couldn’t pay the bank what they owed for the mortgage.

Kit took one last longing look at the picture, folded it carefully, and put it away in her desk drawer. “Don’t forget you promised not to tell anyone my secret,” she said. “Especially not my mother. She’s so busy now that she has to cook and clean for eleven people.” Kit sighed. “I know I can’t have a party like the one in the picture. I shouldn’t really want any party at all. But I can’t help it. I do.”

“I think,” Stirling said slowly, “that it’s okay to want something, even if it seems impossible. Isn’t that the same as hoping?”

“That’s right,” said Ruthie. “And hope is always good. If we just give up on everything, how will anything ever get better?”

“Hope is always good,” Kit repeated. She grinned and tilted her head toward the drawer where the picture of the party was hidden. “Even,” she said, “if it has to be secret.”

Ruthie went home, and Kit put Stirling to work drawing a mitt, bat, cap, and ball to go with an article she’d written for her newspaper about the Cincinnati Reds, the baseball team she and Stirling liked best. While he drew, Kit went to work herself. She took the sheets off her bed. She was careful not to tear them. They were worn so thin that she could almost see through the middles! But there was no money to buy new sheets, and what good sheets there were had to be saved for the boarders’ beds.

“See you later,” she said to Stirling as she carried the sheets downstairs.

“Okay,” said Stirling, busy drawing.

Every Saturday, it was Kit’s job to change the sheets on all the beds. She gathered up the used sheets, washed, dried, and ironed them, then remade the beds with clean sheets. Miss Hart and Miss Finney always left their sheets in a neatly folded bundle next to the laundry tubs, and Mrs. Howard was so persnickety that she insisted on doing all of her laundry herself. Even so, by the time Kit had gathered the rest of the sheets and pillowcases this morning, the pile was so big that she could hardly see over the top of it. She couldn’t help feeling exasperated when, as she headed to the laundry tubs in the basement, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” she called. Kit waddled to the door and fumbled with the knob. The sheets began to fall, so she hooked her foot around the door to swing it open. When she saw who was standing outside, Kit dropped the pile of sheets and flung her arms open wide. “Aunt Millie!” she cried as she plunged into a hug. “What a great surprise!”

“Margaret Mildred Kittredge,” said Aunt Millie, using Kit’s whole name. “Let me look at you.” She stepped back and eyed Kit from head to toe. “Heavenly day!” she exclaimed. “You’ve sprung up like a weed! You must be two feet taller than you were when I saw you last July! And still the prettiest child there ever was! It’s worth the trip from Kentucky just to see you.”

“I’m glad to see you, too,” said Kit, practically dancing with excitement as she led Aunt Millie inside. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“No one did,” said Aunt Millie. “I just took it into my head to come, and here I am, blown in on the breeze like a bug. Now where are your dad and mother? And where’s your handsome brother?”

“Charlie’s at work, but he’ll be home soon,” said Kit. “Mother and Dad are cleaning out the garage. We’re so crowded in the house now with all the boarders, we need room out there for storage.”

As Kit spoke, Aunt Millie put her suitcase and basket in the corner. She took off her hat and coat, put her gloves in her purse, and hung her things neatly on a hook in the hall. She turned and saw the pile of sheets Kit had dropped. “Changing sheets today, are we?” she observed. “Odd to do it on Saturday, with everyone underfoot. Still, it’s a good drying day today.” She scooped up half the pile. “We’d better begin.”

“But Aunt Millie,” said Kit as she picked up the rest of the sheets. “Don’t you want to say hello to Mother and Dad first?”

“Time enough for that after we get the laundry started,” said Aunt Millie. “Work before pleasure. Come along, Margaret Mildred. If we dillydally, we’ll waste the best sunshine.”

Kit grinned. That’s Aunt Millie for you, she thought. Never wastes a thing, not even sunshine.

Aunt Millie was not really Kit’s aunt, or Dad’s either. Mother said that calling her “Aunt” when she was no relation was a very countrified thing to do, and that they should call her “Miss Mildred” because it showed more respect. But Aunt Millie pooh-poohed putting on such airs. “Call me anything, except late for dinner,” she’d say. And so “Aunt Millie” she remained. Besides, she and her husband, Birch, were the only family Dad had ever known. They had adopted Dad after his parents died when he was a boy. Uncle Birch worked in the coal mine in Mountain Hollow, Kentucky, until he died. Kit’s family visited Aunt Millie there every Fourth of July. But Aunt Millie never came to Cincinnati. “Too many people, not enough animals,” she always said. So this visit was a big surprise.

“I can’t wait till Mother and Dad see you!” said Kit as she put the sheets in sudsy water to soak. “They’ll be so glad you’ve come for a visit.”

“Out of the blue,” said Aunt Millie. She smoothed her dress, straightened her shoulders, and smiled at Kit. “‘Lead on, Macduff!’” she said, pointing up the basement stairs. Kit was used to the way Aunt Millie quoted poetry and Shakespeare right in the middle of a normal conversation. Aunt Millie had been the schoolteacher in Mountain Hollow ever since Uncle Birch died, and she couldn’t stop herself from teaching wherever she was.

The sunshine was dazzling after the dimness of the basement. Kit squinted and Aunt Millie shaded her eyes as they crossed the yard. “Mother and Dad!” Kit called. “Come see our surprise!”

Mother and Dad came out of the garage blinking from the brightness and from amazement.

“Aunt Millie!” Dad exclaimed, striding forward to hug her. “How wonderful! I’m glad to see you!”

“I’m glad to see you, too!” Aunt Millie said.

“Miss Mildred, we’re honored,” said Mother. “It’s so kind of you to make the trip. You look well.”

“Fit as a fiddle,” said Aunt Millie. “And—”

“—twice as stringy,” she and Dad finished together.

Dad threw back his head and laughed with Aunt Millie at their old joke. Kit beamed. It’d been a long time since she’d heard Dad laugh so heartily. No one could make him laugh the way Aunt Millie could!

“I never thought I’d see the day you’d leave your home and come to the city,” Dad said to Aunt Millie. “How’s everybody in Mountain Hollow?”

“We’ve been through hard times before,” said Aunt Millie. “We’ll make it through this rough patch. But the town’s been hit pretty badly by this Depression. Last week, they closed the mine. Just couldn’t make any money from it. When they shut the mine, they closed down the school, and of course my house went with my job, so I lost it, too.”

“Oh, no!” exclaimed Dad, Mother, and Kit.

But Aunt Millie did not sound the least bit sorry for herself. “My friend Myrtle Peabody’s been after me for years to live with her,” she said. “So I guess that’s what I’ll do.” She smiled at Kit and tousled her hair. “I just thought I’d come and see how you folks are doing for a while first.”

“You are very welcome,” said Dad. “Stay as long as you like.”

“Yes,” said Mother. “You’ll stay in our room while you’re here. Kit can take you there now for a rest. You must be tired from traveling.”

“Heavenly day, Margaret!” said Aunt Millie. “I’m not the least bit tired. And you needn’t treat me like company. I wouldn’t dream of taking your room. I can park my bones anyplace. Just put me in a corner somewhere.”

“Dear me, no!” said Mother. She smiled, but Kit saw she was worried.

Poor Mother! thought Kit. She wants to make Aunt Millie comfortable, but we don’t have a room to put her in. The house is full of boarders.

“Aunt Millie can share with me,” Kit offered. “There’s plenty of room in my attic, and an extra bed we can set up, too.”

“That’ll be jim-dandy,” said Aunt Millie.

“I guess it’ll do,” said Mother, “since it’s just for a while.”

“Come on, Aunt Millie,” said Kit, taking her hand. “I’ll show you the attic. You can meet Stirling. He’s up there now drawing illustrations for our newspaper.” She grinned. “After I finish the laundry, I’ll write an article about you!”

Stirling and Aunt Millie liked each other right away. Aunt Millie was a Cincinnati Reds fan, too. When she praised Stirling’s baseball drawings, he turned bright pink with pride.

After Stirling left, Aunt Millie said to Kit, “That boy’s as scrawny as a plucked chicken now. But you mark my words—he’ll grow into that voice and those ears and elbows someday. And when he does, he’ll be a handsome fellow.”

Kit giggled at the impossible thought of pip-squeaky Stirling ever being handsome. But Aunt Millie had a way of seeing the potential in people and bringing out the best in them, too.

At first, when Dad introduced her to all the boarders at dinner, everyone was shy. They didn’t know quite what to make of Aunt Millie, with her wispy white hair, her cheeks as red as scrubbed apples, her twangy Kentucky accent, her funny expressions, and her quotes that sprang out unexpectedly.

When Aunt Millie passed Mr. Peck the mashed potatoes, she said, “Here, son. You’ve got that ‘lean and hungry look.’”

Mr. Peck smiled, but he looked bewildered. So did almost everyone else.

“That’s a quote from Shakespeare,” Kit explained.

“Julius Caesar,” said Aunt Millie. She turned to Mr. and Mrs. Bell. “Didn’t I read in Kit’s newspaper that you’ve acted in some of Shakespeare’s plays?”

“Indeed, we have!” said Mr. Bell.

“Please tell us about it,” said Aunt Millie, looking very interested.

Mrs. Bell told a funny story about Mr. Bell tripping over his sword in a play. That reminded Mr. Peck of the time three strings on his bass fiddle popped during a concert. And that reminded Miss Finney of a patient who was an opera singer and sang whenever he called for her. Soon everyone was telling funny stories and laughing uproariously—even Mrs. Howard, whose usual laugh was just a nervous giggle. Aunt Millie’s contagious hoot was loudest of all.

Kit looked at Aunt Millie and grinned from ear to ear. When I wrote my headline this morning, Kit thought, I never guessed who the very best and most surprising spring arrival of all would be!