The Well-Wishers (14 page)

Hannibal stood this a long time and then he let out a roar. "All right!" he said. "I'll chase you and I'll catch you and kill you!" And he ran after Mabel Timkin and grabbed her by her corkscrew curls and pulled. And Deborah, who was watching, admits that she was glad he did. Mabel Timkin had asked for it.

But of course all that really did for Hannibal was give the meaner kids more of an excuse to pick on him. And now some of the boys started circling round him in a menacing way and saying, "Fighting with a girl, Annabelle? That's bad, Annabelle. We'll have to teach you better, Annabelle." And one of them got a willow switch and started hitting at Hannibal's legs, not really hard but hard enough to sting.

Hannibal stood there in the middle of the circle, hopping from one leg to the other to keep away from the switch, and tears slowly and silently started coming down his cheeks. And it was then that Deborah went running to find me.

The reason I was there in the first place is that I have just lately been made monitor of the playground during little kids' recess. I know why Miss Wilson did it. She has some crazy theory that if I'm given more responsibility, it may bring out the best in me. But I can see through her. Though I do not mind the job really, now I am used to it.

Anyway, there I was, teaching a lot of dumb second-graders to play Red Rover, Red Rover, when Deborah came running up to me, all excited.

"Come quick," she said. "It's Hannibal."

And I followed her.

When they saw me coming, the mean kids melted away, because my word is law on that playground, if I do say it myself.

But of course I didn't know what all had been happening till Deborah told me later. So I got the whole thing wrong. I thought it was the kids who wouldn't play with Hannibal. I didn't know it was Hannibal who wouldn't play with the kids.

So I looked around for one of my little brothers.

Little brothers are one thing I always have plenty of, there being nine kids in my family. And three of them are in the lower grades. The first one I saw now was the second-grade one, who is called Pete. And I whistled him over.

"Okay," I said to him and Hannibal when I had them standing together. "Now play."

"Do I hafta?" said Pete.

"No," said Hannibal.

"You'll play," I said, "or else. You'll play or I'll knock your heads together."

"No, I won't," said Hannibal.

"Don't, then. No skin off my neck," said Pete. And he ran back to his gang.

I felt Deborah tugging at my jacket. "That's not the way," she said. She is smart for her age.

Because I could see that it wasn't. There was more here than met the eye.

I squatted down by Hannibal. "Look, dad," I said. "Let's get this straight. The kids want to be your friends. But they can't do it all by themselves.
You
have to do some of it."

"I'm not your dad," said Hannibal. "And they're not my friends. They don't want me. They tried to keep me out. Well, I don't want them. I didn't want to be here in the first place. I want to go back to New York."

This was the longest speech he had made yet, and I began to think I was getting somewhere. At least I had started him talking. And I knew now what the trouble was.

"We didn't try to keep you out," I said. "We helped you move in. Remember?"

"Flowers," said Hannibal. "Who needs flowers? You didn't do it for us. You did it for yourselves. So you'd feel good."

Hannibal was pretty wise for his age, too. Maybe
too
wise. Maybe there had been things in his life already that made him that way.

I knew just how he felt, too. Sort of the way I used to feel when the social worker used to come round our house, prying and asking questions and talking about underprivileged children and all with the best intentions, of course. But he had it wrong.

"Okay, Hannibal," I said. "So you didn't want to come here. But you
are
here, so why not make the best of it? Suppose you play with Deborah now, just to show you can."

And then all of a sudden Hannibal seemed to go wild.

"Play!" he said scornfully. "Play! All right, I'll play! I'll play tag. You're it." And he butted me in the stomach with his head, there where I was squatting, and knocked me back off my heels. "And you're it!" And he gave Deborah a push that sent her staggering, And then he went running all over the playground, yelling at the top of his voice and pushing just about everybody.

And at that moment the bell rang and recess was over.

I made sure Hannibal went back in the school building with the others, and that was all I could do just then. I had to get back to class.

But I thought about Hannibal a lot the rest of that day.

I know that there are times when being mean and ornery seems to be the only way out. Like that year I felt poor and out of things and against everybody, and went around knocking down mailboxes and destroying property.

Eventually you learn that knocking things down doesn't do a bit of good. Or knocking people down, either. But sometimes it takes a while to find this out.

Deborah told me later that Hannibal was just plain awful in class after recess and in the afternoon, answering Miss Silloway back and hitting out at the other kids and throwing his books on the floor. The children of the Smugs were saying "I told you so" worse than ever. And even some of the good boys in the class vowed that as soon as school was over they were going to get Hannibal.

When the first grade marched out at the end of that day, Deborah threw me a look that said, "Help!" But at that moment I was completely occupied.

Ever since Miss Wilson found out that I can play the piano by ear, she has had me play for the marching out. It is all part of her campaign for bringing out my hidden virtues, I think. Usually I have to play corny old marches like "The Stars and Stripes Forever" or "The Burning of Rome." But I generally manage to sneak a little bit of rock 'n' roll beat under them when I can avoid Miss Wilson's eagle ear.

This day when I caught Deborah's look I went on playing, but I watched the first grade out of the corner of my eye. As the line broke up at the door, I saw some of the boys start toward Hannibal. But Hannibal didn't wait. He ran faster than I've ever seen a little boy run, but not as if he were scared. More as if he couldn't shake the dust of that school from his feet soon enough.

I waited till the fourth grade came marching by, and then I got Luella May Corbett to take my place on the piano stool. All she can play is "Barcarolle" and "Scarf Dance," but they would have to do today. And before Miss Wilson could notice that the music had changed, I hurried out the door to where Deborah was waiting, and she told me all about everything that had happened.

"Maybe I ought to go after him," I said, "before he does anything rasher."

"Take me along with you," said Deborah.

So I did, on my handlebars.

But we didn't see hide nor hair of Hannibal all the way to Silvermine Road. Even though he was new to that neighborhood, he must have found himself a shortcut through the woods, like a homing pigeon.

We stopped a few times and reconnoitered, but I still made pretty good time and we got to the red house way ahead of the school bus. Deborah climbed down from the bike and marched straight into the yard where the well is.

"If you ask me," she said. "What Hannibal needs is the magic. Come on, help me wish."

"Oh no, now," I said. "None of that."

Because that magic they talk about has always seemed pretty silly to me.

"Hadn't you better wait for the others?" I said. "They go in for that kind of thing more."

"No," said Deborah, "they've all got meetings. And anyway, they'd want to give advice and show me how, and it's my turn! I want to do it my way. But you're different.
I
can show
you.
"

"Oh, dandy," I said. But of course I had to give in and humor her in her infant ignorance. "Well, all right, but make it snappy."

Only instead she made a big deal of it, putting me through all sorts of motions and making me repeat all sorts of dopey words after her, because she

said this was such an important wish she wanted to make sure it didn't go wrong.

"O well," I found myself saying. "0 well, please help us help Hannibal to be good and get along with people and not be unhappy." And then she made me kneel down to the well and knock my head on the ground three times.

I felt ridiculous, because what if one of my gang passed by and saw? It would be risking my whole reputation. And then when I looked up I felt more ridiculous still, because somebody
was
seeing.

But I felt relieved, too, because the person looking at us was Hannibal.

But he was a different Hannibal from when I'd seen him last. His clothes were torn and dusty and his face was scratched by brambles, and he was panting as if he'd run all the Tareath out of him.

All the anger seemed to have gone out of him, too. And now that it had gone out, there was room for other feelings, and the greatest of these right now seemed to be curiosity. Because he was staring over the fence at us with big round eyes.

When he spoke, his voice was hoarse with dry-throatedness. "What you doing?" he said.

"Wishing," said Deborah, "on this well."

"Is that well
magic?
" said Hannibal, looking more round-eyed than ever.

"Yes," said Deborah, "it is."

"What you wishing?" said Hannibal, after a minute.

"We were wishing," said Deborah, "that the well would make you be good, and learn to get along with people."

I was afraid when he heard that, Hannibal might go wild again and start pushing everybody handy. I'll admit that's what I might have felt like doing if I were Hannibal' and anybody said that to me.

But it seemed as though Deborah's wish must have already come true. About Hannibal's being good, I mean. Because he didn't say anything for a long time. When he did speak, it was in a small, ashamed-sounding voice.

"Can I wish, too?" he said.

"Sure," said Deborah.

Slowly and with dragging feet Hannibal came through the gate and up to the well. He looked at it, and then he leaned over and stared down it and muttered something. I don't think he meant us to hear what it was.

But I did hear.

What he said was, "I wish I were like other people."

I'll admit that when I heard that, my throat felt scratchy and as if I wanted to swallow. And for the second time that day I squatted down by Hannibal. I didn't worry about being butted in the stomach again, either.

"Look, kid," I said, "you don't want to wish a thing like that. You ought to be proud to be you. Why, you're the only one of you there is, just the way I'm the only one of me. There'll never be another person exactly like you ever again, anywhere in the world. So be yourself, dad, and like it!"

Hannibal stood looking at his feet and kicking the edge of the wellhead. "/ like it all right," he said finally, "but
they
don't. If I'm myself, they won't want to play with me."

"They'll play with you all right," I said grimly. "They'll play with you or talk to me!"

Deborah nudged me and shook her head. And I saw that she was right again, and there had been enough crossness and fighting talk.

"You're all tired and dusty," she said to Hannibal. "Don't you want to come inside and wash your face and have a drink of water?"

"
Me?
" said Hannibal. He looked down at himself. "I tore my pants," he added in a surprised voice. "My mom'11 kill me."

"Maybe
my
mother can darn it," said Deborah.

"
Would
she?" said Hannibal, as if he didn't believe it.

"Let's go and ask," said Deborah. And she gave him her hand and they went into the house.

I stood looking after them. And suddenly I blew my nose. And then I remembered I was late for playing Kick the Can with the guys, and I got on my bike and rode away.

But the next day when I monitored at recess, I paid particular attention to what was happening over in the first-grade section of the playground.

It certainly looked as if Hannibal's wish had come true. There he was playing, just like the others. You wouldn't think he had ever felt different at all. And nobody seemed to be holding yesterday against him one bit.

Of course I heard later that Miss Silloway had lectured the class, after sending Hannibal out of the way on the pretense of a note to Mrs. Van Nest, and told the kids that Hannibal's first day had been hard on him and they should give him a second chance. And Deborah had specially asked all her friends to be nice to him, too.

Still, I'd say it would take more than that to make Hannibal suddenly fit in as well as he suddenly seemed to. I'd even say it would take magic.

And yet he hadn't stopped being himself, either. Because when I went near enough to make out the words, I heard him say, "If you think this teacher is strict, you ought to see ours on Lenox Avenue in New York City!"

And later on when he was in the middle of a game, he yelled out, "We don't play Prisoner's Base that way in New York City; we play it
this
way!"