Home Free (7 page)

Cassandra came right away. “Go away,” she whispered. “Why? What happened?”

“Go away.”

I didn't want to go away. “Come outside. Mr. and Mrs. Fergus will be gone a long time. They always are. My mother says it's not right they're out so late on a Sunday, so I know.”

Cassandra didn't answer me for a long time.

“Cassandra?” I called, but not loud.

Then I heard the side door open.

“If I'm caught … “ she shook her head. “I'd better go back in.” She turned to go, but I could see she looked really scared.

“What happened?” I asked again. “Did she spank you?”

Cassandra suddenly looked really mad. “I wish she had!” she said. And she spat it out like she did with her mother's name. “I wish she'd hit me. Then I would have hit her back! I would have hit her and hit her and …”

I know I just stared at her.

“I have to go back inside,” she said.

But I grabbed her hand. “Don't go. I want to show you something.” She looked back at the door, but she came with me.

We climbed over the fence into my backyard, then we snuck through the shadows to the far corner.

“This is my very special place,” I told her. “No one knows about it.” And I pulled her in under the bushes. My Sanctuary isn't very big, but I thought the two of us could scrunch in together if we huddled close. I lay down on the old leaves and Cassandra tried to sit.

“You have to lie down. It's important,” I told her.

Cassandra made an angry noise, but she rolled over to her side.

“On your back. So you can look up,” I said.

She rolled over.

“See? Look at all the stars. I call it my star window. And no one can see us. Nobody ever knows I'm here. I can just look up at the stars and think.” And I told her all about the word
sanctuary
and about being home free.

Cassandra didn't say anything, and I was afraid to ask a question. So I watched the stars and I listened to the sounds of bugs and I could smell the damp earth and the dead leaves and the mint from Mrs. Carol's garden and the perfume from the roses. And it happened again, just like always. I felt shivery and happy and safe.

Then I told Cassandra all about L.M. Montgomery in my church. I thought she'd be thrilled for me. I waited for her to say so.

“She called my mother names,” said Cassandra. “She said she was a terrible girl and … and … lots of other things, and she said I'd probably grow up just like her and … ”

I pushed myself up. “Mrs. Fergus? Why? Why would she say such things? Your mother is dead. That's terrible.”

“You don't understand. You don't understand anything.”

And I could hear the hate in her voice. But I didn't think the hate was for me.

“Tell me. Please tell me. Then I can understand.”

Cassandra turned away from me. “I can't. I'm not allowed.”

I didn't understand any of this. So I tried to figure it out. “Did your mother and father do something awful? Is that how they died? Was it their fault? Or … or did they have a big fight with everyone just before they died? Is that it? And no one will forgive them?”

Nothing.

“Or maybe it was just fever, like Anne Shirley's parents. And maybe your family thought it was disgraceful and so they –”

“Shut up!”

“But why can't you talk about it? Why can't you talk about your parents? Don't you miss them? Didn't you love them?”

“No!” Cassandra spit.

So I said nothing.

“I didn't do my chores the right way for good old Cousin Doris. So she told me off, and I talked back. Then she said some really nice things about me and about my mom.”

“And about your dad?” I prodded.

Silence.

And then, “And so I yelled back and got sent to my room. And that's all I want to tell you.” And she lay back down on the dead leaves.

“But–”

“Shut up.”

“But–”

“I said shut up!”

So I shut up.

“I know,” Cassandra said. “Let's talk about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Let's talk about your little secret with Kathy.”

So this was it. We would exchange secrets. I'd tell her mine and she'd tell me hers. Fine.

But not in here. Not in my Sanctuary. I didn't want to sully it.
(Sully
means “to destroy the purity of something.”)

I got up and pushed aside the branches and leaves. Cassandra followed me and we went back to her yard.

“This is what happened,” I said.

As everybody knows, Kathy and I have been best friends or arch enemies since grade two. We had fights every day, but we always made up.

But not the last time.

Whenever we had money or could earn some money, like taking somebody's baby for a walk around the block, Kathy and I would run to Sid's Variety Store and buy candy, Popsicles, and chocolate bars, usually.

So one day I found three pop bottles in the park. That was six cents! I could buy us a Popsicle. Kathy didn't come with me because she had curlers in her hair. So I ran to Sid's and went up to the counter with my three pop bottles.

Someone had been there before me and left a case of
bottles on the counter. Six more bottles. Twelve more cents. I could buy us each a Popsicle and some licorice too! No one was at the counter and when Sid came out from the back, he said, “What do I owe you?” I don't know why. I don't. But it was an irresistible temptation. I pointed at all the bottles and said, “For nine pop bottles.” And he just looked at me and didn't say anything. Then he said, “I don't think so.” I know I went red as red can be and I knew he'd phone the police and I'd go to jail. So I turned and ran away. I left my pop bottles on the counter and ran out the door.

“I didn't want to tell Kathy when I got back, but she wanted to know where the Popsicle was and she got mad at me and said I was a pig and probably ate it all by myself so I told her and she promised not to tell.”

“That's it?” asked Cassandra. “You tried to steal twelve cents?”

I nodded.

“That's the big drama in your life? Twelve cents?”

“I'm a thief,” I said.

“You tried to be a thief, but you weren't any good at it.”

“But I couldn't go back to Sid's ever again,” I pointed out. “And I can't tell anybody why not.”

“So Kathy told on you? Is that it?”

“No, she didn't. At least, not that I know about. But that's not it. You see …” and I got all red. Good thing it was dark.
“Kathy didn't stop going to Sid's Variety Store like me. And I knew why. She'd walk in and smile at Sid and he'd smile at her and then if there was no one else around, he'd show her pictures of bare-naked ladies in a magazine. And I said that wasn't right. I said my mother said being bare-naked was wrong and bad. And that's why she got so mad when we played doctor with Linda and showed our bums.”

“So you told on Kathy?” asked Cassandra Jovanovich.

I shook my head. “No. Because she said being a thief was worse and she'd tell on me if I said anything. So then we didn't play much anymore. And then she was just … different. She stopped hanging around with us and went to Sid's almost every day after school.”

“Oh, boy.”

“Then she started picking on me all the time. She was mean every day and said mean things. And if she was playing with someone, she wouldn't let me play. And then …” I looked at Cassandra. “Do you know where babies come from?” I asked.

“Yeah,” said Cassandra. “I know a lot about where babies come from.”

I took a deep breath. “Well, I didn't. Not then. And Kathy knew that, and she made fun of me and said I was a big baby myself. And then this year all us kids went to see a movie at the school about making babies. Us girls
went Tuesday night with our moms, and the boys went Wednesday night with their dads. And so now I know. So I'm not a baby, but Kathy won't stop saying mean things.”

I finished talking and waited. Then Cassandra finally said, “She knows she's doing something wrong. She knows she shouldn't hang around Sid's. So she's mad at you for knowing about it. That's all it is.”

I thought about this. It made sense. “So what do I do?”

“Just stay away from her. She's trouble,” said Cassandra. “And she's going to get worse. Believe me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Figure it out, Leanna. Some girls are like that. Loose, they call them. And just you wait. She'll get in trouble for sure.”

I repeated “what do you mean” again.

“Girls like that get pregnant, okay?”

Pregnant!

“But she's eleven!” I said.

Cassandra hit me. “Not today, you idiot. But some day. Wanna bet?”

No, I didn't want to bet. I didn't want to think about Kathy in trouble. Right now, I just wanted to forget about her. And about me. And I knew how to do that.

So I said, “And now, you. What did Mrs. Fergus say about your parents?”

I waited for her to answer me. But she didn't say what I was expecting.

“Your initials are L.M., right?” she said. “You're practically L.M. Montgomery already. You just have to find a Montgomery to marry.”

So she wasn't going to share her secret with me. Even after I told her my secret. This wasn't fair. But then right away, I understood. She wasn't mad at me. She just didn't want to talk yet. And she had given me a sort of present to make up for it.

L. M. Montgomery.

She was right! I had never thought of this! This was exciting. But then I couldn't think of anybody named Montgomery at school so the idea sort of fizzled out. I was in love with David, but his last name wasn't Montgomery.

“But you are halfway there,” Cassandra Jovanovich pointed out. “Maybe you don't have to marry a Montgomery because then people would get confused at the library. But you could still go by L.M. something or other. And you have Anna in your name so it all fits together.”

This is what Miss Gowdy calls having a brainstorm – sort of like the muse whispering in your ear.

Now I knew Cassandra Jovanovich was a kindred spirit. She just didn't know it herself!

We worked hard all day Monday and figured we would be ready to put on our play on Tuesday. We finished up and I went inside for supper. But my mother was having one of her spells.

I always know when she's having one of her spells because she will be lying on the couch with a blanket over her, even her face. I think she's asleep, but I'm not sure, so I try not to make any noise. But today I was so excited about the play that I came running in and let the screen door slam with a bang. Then my mother sat right up and marched down to her bedroom. Then she slammed her door with a bang.

Well! Ladies aren't supposed to do that, but I didn't think I should say so.

I looked in the kitchen but there was no supper ready. I wondered if I should make something. I can make French toast and sloppy joes and s'mores because I learned at Brownies. But I knew my father didn't call this real food. So I was standing there, looking in the fridge when my father came home.

“Where's your mother?” he asked.

“She's lying down. She's having a spell,” I said.

“
Humph
” said my father.

“Can you come to our play tomorrow?”

“What?”

I didn't tell him he should say pardon. I just reminded him about our play and then asked him again if he could come.

He shook his head. “Don't think so, kiddo.”

I guess he saw the look on my face because then he said, “Tell you what. How about you and I go out tonight and get some grub? We'll celebrate the success of your play ahead of time.”

This was a surprise! And then I had a brainstorm.

“Can Cassandra Jovanovich come, too?” I asked.

My father looked a little surprised. But then he said, “Sure. Why not?”

This was wonderful! I'd never taken a friend out for dinner before!

So I ran over to Cassandra Jovanovich's and Mrs. Fergus said yes and then the two of us ran back to my house and were ready to go.

My father came out of his bedroom. He didn't look too happy and I was suddenly afraid my mother said we couldn't go. But he smiled when he saw us and said to hop in the jalopy. My father says things like grub and jalopy when he's trying to be extra nice. I don't know why.

We both sat in the backseat and pretended we were rich ladies and my father was the chauffeur. And my father even let us listen to CHUM on the radio! We never listen to CHUM when my mother is in the car. We always have to listen to CFRB and then there's hardly any music, just a lot of old people talking.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“You're supposed to tell me where to drive,” answered my father. “I'm the chauffeur, remember?”

Well! This was a surprise. So I said, knowing my father would say no, “How about the Dairy Queen?”

“Very well, madam,” he said, and Cassandra and I laughed.

So we drove for about fifteen minutes and we listened to The Beatles and The Dave Clark Five and Herman's Hermits and Simon and Garfunkel and then we were there.

I thought we were only going to get a cone, the same as always, or maybe a vanilla cone with chocolate dip for extra special, but my father said we could have whatever we wanted. And we weren't even having any real dinner!

So we both got a deluxe banana split and my father said that sounded good and he got one too.

“This is scrumptious,” I said. That's a word Anne Shirley uses.

We sat at a picnic table and I said, “Did your dad ever take you to the Dairy Queen?”

I knew it was very daring of me to sneak this in, but maybe she wouldn't get mad at me this time, asking questions about her parents.