Just Claire (3 page)

A
fter the pledge
, Mrs. Reed handed ClaireLee a sixth-grade arithmetic book. “Page twenty, Claire.”

One good thing about this school, she liked the way her new teacher said just “Claire.” Yet, her thoughts would not, could not, stay with school.
Mama. Baby. Daddy and Mama and the baby. Lolly.
The poster of poppy flowers blurred like a rainy day, and she pressed her top teeth to her lower lip.
I should be at the cabin waiting for Mama
.
Should have taken a chance of upsetting Daddy.

She replayed the scene in her mind—poor Mama in the bed, before Daddy shooed ClaireLee out of the room. The grimace Mama wore as she moaned with birth pains, sweat beaded across her lined forehead. Now, blinking back more tears, ClaireLee decided to imagine the best—her mama resting in the hospital with the baby tucked in her arms.
Mama's guardian angel is with her.

As the clock's second hand ticked, Mrs. Reed worked with the fourth-grade side of the class. ClaireLee peeked to her right. One student with a stack of blonde curls wiggled her fingers in a wave, her face intent on ClaireLee's. ClaireLee's mouth twitched.

Stack of Curls walked to the pencil sharpener. Returning, she pressed a folded paper on the page of ClaireLee's book.

ClaireLee covered the note with a hand. When Mrs. Reed took no notice, she unfolded it and read: DURING FIRST BREAK, FOLLOW ME TO THE PLAYGROUND AND MEET THE LAVENDER GIRLS.
Will I make friends on the first day? But what if I don't care for them? What if they don't like me?
She shifted her shoulders and made a face.

A
t the sound
of the bell, someone grabbed ClaireLee from behind. “C'mon. I'm in charge of ya.” Belinda pulled her to the door, her grip more like a metal vise.

Stack of Curls took hold of ClaireLee's other hand. “Beat it, Cruz, she's going with me.” She tugged on ClaireLee, and Belinda let go.

In the outside hallway, ClaireLee clicked on her tongue. If Belinda's scowl could form words, they would have roared and echoed.

On the playground, Grayson waved, and Lolly ran to ClaireLee and hugged her. “Hi, Sissy Pie.”

“How's class?” She hugged her back.

“I get to color.” Her eyes lit up like twinkling stars within a black sky.

“Good.” ClaireLee planted a kiss on Lolly's head. “Now go make friends.”

Obeying, Lolly ran to a group of little kids, and ClaireLee released a soft breath. “My sister.” She searched the playground to check on her brothers. Grayson was playing kickball. Liam leaned against the swing-set pole, hands flying as he talked to another boy. It wasn't hard to imagine the conversation by his dancing fingers.
Bragging, definitely bragging.

A creepy thought came to ClaireLee.
What if one of the kids got hurt?
Who would help them?

Stack of Curls was saying something. She flipped a ringlet off her cheek. “I'm Wendy.”

Remembering the note, ClaireLee pulled it from her coat pocket and waved it. “You have nice printing, Wendy.”

Swaying her hip to one side, Wendy crossed her arms. “I should. I've attended the best private school in Boston since first grade. By the way, I chose to come to Gallagher Springs.” She shrugged. “It'll be an educational experience.” Pointing to a tall pole on the far side of the grounds, Wendy said, “Do you play tetherball?”

“Sure.” ClaireLee tagged behind Wendy as she walked to the tetherball line. Students whistled and cheered the players. “I enjoy sports and am good at them. Back home in Oregon where I came from, I hike the deer trails on our mountain.”

Wendy sniffed. “Your family owns a mountain?”

Edging behind Wendy, Belinda crossed her eyes at the back of Wendy's head.

Giggles rose from her chest and ClaireLee said, “Yes, I do, with ninety-nine acres of forest and a small pasture next to our house. I also own a rental cabin up the hill from my place, and I have a creek, chicken house, and rabbit hutches behind our house.” She straightened her back. “Daddy said he'd buy me a milk cow when we leave here and go back home.”

“Cows stink.” Wendy wrinkled her nose. “And you mean your parents own all this, don't you?” ClaireLee's face warmed when Wendy corrected her for bragging. “What does one do with a mountain?” Wendy asked.

Belinda's mouth split into silly, crooked lines and she whispered, “Do?”

Relieved Belinda made a kind of joke, ClaireLee could no longer control her laughter.

“Did I say something to amuse you, ClaireLee?” Wendy's manicured brows furrowed.

She shook her head and pointed at Belinda. “She's making faces at your head and saying funny stuff.”

“You're so ignorant, Belinda.” Wendy whirled round and waved her arms into the air. “But, of course, you were born in this do-nothing folk town.” She faced ClaireLee again. “My dad owns five skyscrapers in Boston. I ride the elevators and know every elevator operator's name.”

Her lips parting, ClaireLee wanted to ask what a skyscraper was, but Belinda saddled next to ClaireLee. “This is high and mighty of you, Wendy.”

Between clenched teeth, Wendy said, “ClaireLee, have you ever
ridden an elevator?”

“Um,” she tapped her chin, “you know, I don't think so.”

Belinda snorted in raucous laughter, and Wendy glared. “Would you mind, scar face?”

As though slapped, Belinda said in monotones, “Would I mind what, Wendy whooh hooh?”

Eyes snapping, her manicured brows relaxed. “From this moment on you are invisible.” Wendy nodded toward where the first graders played. “I would think your sister is too young for first grade.”

“I needed to bring her with me.” ClaireLee chewed on a fingernail. “My mother had a baby, and now she's in the hospital.” There it was, like a rat out of a bag. She gasped at her own weakness to keep her life no one else's business.

Unzipping her tiny purse, Wendy pulled out a compact mirror and gazed at herself. “Don't you have it backwards? You go into the hospital to have a baby.”

Now, ClaireLee stiffened, ready to defend her family. “Daddy delivers our babies at home, but this time things didn't go well.”

“How quaint.” Wendy opened her mouth and examined her teeth.

“No, not the word for it,” ClaireLee said. “It's called home birth, like in the olden days.”

“I wouldn't know about such things.” Wendy rolled her eyes, making ClaireLee feel as if she were the ignorant one. “I live in the city where hospitals are close by.”

Belinda said, “I'll tell my grandma your ma needs prayer.” Wendy blocked Belinda's face with a palm, but Belinda peered round Wendy's fingers. “What's your ma's name? Did she have a boy or girl?”

ClaireLee shuffled forward with the moving tether-ball line. “Her name is Dotty, and she had a boy.” She tapped Wendy on the shoulder. “You said I'd meet the Lavender Girls, so who are they?”

“It's a group I started with Kaye Tyner and Valerie Shaffer.” She pointed at the front of the line. “They're up there.” Wendy cupped her hands around her mouth. “Lavender Girls, say hi to ClaireLee.”

The shorter girl waved, and ClaireLee returned the gesture.
Which is the other girl?
“What does
Lavender
stand for? The flower?”

Smirking, Belinda gestured toward Wendy. “Her last
name
, of course.”

Not expecting such an explanation, ClaireLee mustered up one word. “Cute.”

Belinda squeezed ClaireLee's shoulder. “Since I'm supposed to show ya around, you'll sit with me at lunch.”

Not wanting to hurt Belinda's feelings, ClaireLee almost said okay. But she was fascinated with Wendy and her city lifestyle, and she wanted to get to know the Lavender Girls. The tether-ball line moved again, taking Wendy with it, and ClaireLee followed.

A
t the lunch bell
, ClaireLee's stomach grumbled, and she found Lolly with their brothers in the outside hall.

“Let's sit together while we eat,” ClaireLee said to Lolly.

Lolly gripped ClaireLee's hand. “Yep, sure, Sissy Pie.”

The sisters caught up with Wendy and her cronies, and their small group walked toward the aroma of sweet spices and baked bread. At the cafeteria door, ClaireLee swung her lunch pail back and forth. “I'll save us a table.” After picking their spot, she flipped the latch of her pail and shared food with Lolly.

ClaireLee bit into her peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, and a sack lunch plopped across the table. The two girls stared at each other until Belinda broke the silence. “Mrs. Reed said
I'm
supposed to show you around. Not those uppity city snobs.”

Blinking, ClaireLee chose her words, so as not to excite Belinda. “The Lavender Girls seem nice.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Beware of them, ClaireLee.” Belinda's tongue snagged a cookie crumb from her lip. “When lunch is over, I'll walk with you and your little sister. We get an hour-long lunch and recess, and afterward it's swim class in the school pool.”

Hurrying to swallow her bite, ClaireLee said, “Is the water warm?”

“You betcha.” Belinda drank from her thermos. “Big Red keeps it toasty in the winter.”

Uncertain, ClaireLee hesitated as to whether or not to discuss anything to do with last night. “I met Big Red.”

“You did?”

Longing to tell someone about her mama, ClaireLee decided to trust Belinda. “He helped Daddy with Mama's delivery. Right now, he's at the hospital with my parents.”

Belinda's face glowed like a pink rose. “Big Red. Always ready to help. But. . .” Her excitement faded, and her expression wilted. “It would mean your ma's in bad shape if Big Red had to go along and miss work.”

Oh, why did I mention anything to do with Mama?
ClaireLee's stomach pitched from the comment. A
fter I eat, I'll just leave and see if Mama's at the cabin.

Tapping of fancier shoes approached them, and Wendy stooped to set down her food. Filled to the brim, there was no space left on the tray of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and a cinnamon roll big as the old West. Wendy wrinkled her nose at Belinda and, as she sat, brushed elbows with ClaireLee.

With the sparkle gone from her eyes after they talked about Mama, Belinda's thumb shot over her shoulder. “We've got a hot lunch schedule out yonder by the doors, ClaireLee, if next time ya want to try Cook's glazed rolls.”

Pastry should have smelled yummy, but it made ClaireLee's stomach go oozy like a rotten poked yoke. Someone else who hadn't even been at their cabin last night was worried about Mama. She studied her sandwich. Blackberry jam leaked in places, making the bread purple.
Soggy mess
.

Visions of the new baby brought a chill to ClaireLee's spine.

Purple baby.

Purple sandwich.

She wrapped what was left and stuck it in her lunch pail.

Kaye and Valerie held their trays before them, and Kaye cleared her throat. “Since when do you eat with us, Cruz?”

Staring at ClaireLee, Belinda mouthed, “See what I mean?”

“I can't get it off.” Wrinkling her face, Lolly attempted to unscrew the thermos lid.

“Here, let me.” ClaireLee grabbed the colorful jug and twisted. “There you go.”

After settling at the table, Valerie and Kaye joined them in eating while awkward moments passed. ClaireLee's classmates gave her an itchy feeling, like the worst-ever poison oak rash. Now, her socks drooped below her knees, and ClaireLee ducked under the table to pull them up.

“Hey, Belinda,” Kaye said, “you eat baloney? What're you,—poor?” Wendy and Kaye snickered; Kaye mumbled something about white trash.

On the way up, ClaireLee bumped her head against the table, and she rubbed the tender spot.
I don't like Kaye
.

In jerking movements, Belinda shoved a cookie in her mouth. She stuffed food wrappers into her sack and squashed the bag between her hands. “I keep tellin' myself, you and your little girls' group will leave when the tunnel's done.”

“You are so uncool.” Wendy shooed a hand at Belinda. “We'll take care of ClaireLee from here, so run along, hillbilly.”

If one could compare people with trees, Belinda stood as a Redwood among the oaks. “Mrs. Reed told me to show ClaireLee around.” Sticking out her tongue, she wagged it at Wendy. “You don't rule the school, Wendy Snot-nosed Lavender.”

The Lavender Girls stared at Belinda, and ClaireLee withheld a chuckle.

“Why are people mad?” Lolly raised her face to meet ClaireLee's.

Belinda stomped to another table in the lunchroom. All she needed was a blue ox named Babe, and Belinda could be called Pauline Bunyan, she was so tall.

Now, her skin prickling, her heart hammering, ClaireLee scooted closer to Lolly. Had she landed in the middle of a nest of girl troubles?
I don't need anyone else's problems. Got plenty of my own.

It was time to escape.

P
ushing through the ankle-deep
, wet snow, ClaireLee slogged onward. Passing Holcomb's Market and almost to their driveway yards ahead, she had thirty minutes to make a round trip to the cabin and to school, again.
Please, Mama, be there, please, please.

Tripping every few steps, Lolly said, “Sissy Pie, I'm tired.”

ClaireLee held tighter to Lolly's gloved hand. “I know, baby, but we're almost there.” She jiggled their grasp. “We might see Mama and the baby.”

They rounded the curve to their private street, where Big Red owned an assortment of ages-old logger cabins. Some had caved into themselves, but his, the Monteiros', and the empty cabin next door stood in okay condition. All the buildings had weathered with age and were an ugly gray.

Peering up ahead, ClaireLee strained to spot the station wagon. She let go of Lolly's fingers, and a moan escaped ClaireLee's lips.

“No Mama.” Lolly slumped.

A new sensation came in the vicinity of ClaireLee's heart: a sorrowful ache. “I was hoping.” From behind, a gust of wind forced her closer to the cabin. “I'll leave a note for Mama in case she forgets we're in school.”

Lolly tipped her chin toward the cloudy sky. “We're gonna leave again?”

“I want to swim in the warm pool.” Inside the cabin, ClaireLee found a slip of paper, dropped into a kitchen chair, and wrote her message:

D
ear Mama
,

Don't worry about us. We're at school, and Lolly is in Grayson and Liam's class. We'll see you when we get back.

I love you,

ClaireLee

P.S. I can't wait to see you and—

S
hrieking
, Lolly said, “I can't find it.” The refrigerator door stood open, and her snow-sloshed boots showed between the space of the door and the floor.

“What's wrong?” ClaireLee stood and Lolly threw herself into her big sister, crying as though her heart would explode. Kneeling to eye level, ClaireLee asked, “What can't you find, baby?”

“Mama's . . .” Lolly sputtered her words. “Mama's cookie dough.” She reared her head and split the air with her wailing.

A chill and a shudder went through ClaireLee.
Why would Lolly get so upset over cookie dough
? She peered into the refrigerator, keeping a hand on Lolly's shoulder. “It's got to be in here. I hid it from Liam.” Moving the mayonnaise jar to the side, ClaireLee said, “I found it.” Ready to receive it, Lolly's outstretched hand waited.

Her cheeks smudged with a flush, Lolly said, “Thank you, Sissy Pie.”

“Let's put it back.” ClaireLee held out her fingers. “Recess should be over soon.”

Giving up the spoon of dough, Lolly nodded. “Hide it good again, or Liam's gonna eat it.”

“He hates eggs.” ClaireLee hid the dough even better: inside a carton. “So, he won't find it here.” She scooped Lolly into her arms and onto a hip and studied her sister. “You feel better?”

Eyelashes tear-streaked, she said, “Yeah, huh.”

Giving her a bear hug, ClaireLee said, “I love you, girl.”

“Me, too, loves you.” Lolly laid her head on ClaireLee's shoulder, heaved a shuddering sigh, and plugged her mouth with a thumb.

How sad for Lolly without Mama.
ClaireLee washed her sister's face and kissed her cheeks.
Sad for us all.
She worked her jaw.
We're by ourselves.

How long would they be alone?

F
or the next class
, ClaireLee slid into the pool. “Ahh.” The warm liquid swaddled her like a quilt. Flipping on her back, she floated, humming a gospel hymn and daydreaming about Mama and the baby. Soon, Mama would walk onto the cabin steps while Daddy held the newborn. Soon, he would tuck them into bed. Soon, he would give Mama whatever she needed to keep her comfortable.

Pumping her limbs, she swam laps. Without knowing, ClaireLee veered off course and bumped into a classmate.
Belinda.
Quick as a wink, she shoved ClaireLee, splashing water into her eyes. ClaireLee blinked. Sputtered. Curling her body, she plunged headfirst underwater in the opposite direction.

Kicking her legs as fast as she could, she moved far away from Belinda Cruz. ClaireLee hung on to the opposite side of the pool, waiting for Principal Langley to blow the whistle to get out for showers. Belinda did not follow her, but swam breast strokes to the deep end. In water over her head, ClaireLee knew she was no match for Belinda.
She's as big as Goliath, and I don't have a slingshot.

In the locker room at the sink, ClaireLee wrung the pool from her school-issued swimsuit. Belinda materialized in the mirror behind ClaireLee, her shoulders coming to over a foot above ClaireLee's head. Belinda's eyes mere slits, she acted angry enough to shake ClaireLee like a puffball.

Heart pumping, it chased itself, punching like a trotting horse. One moment she wanted to run. The next second she made fists, willing to fight and defend on solid ground. Wait a second.
Why is Belinda angry?
I've got to calm down.
She silently counted wall tiles to avert her own temper—
one, two, three…

Girls from their classroom gathered, crowding them in the steamy room.

“Soooo, how ya likin' Gallagher Springs?” Belinda said. “Huh, Miss ClaireLee?”

Still at the basin, she wrung more water from her suit. “Pretty good.”
Four, five, six...
Actually, I like it real well.” Truth?
I'm homesick and want Mama.

“Huh.” Belinda raised her unscarred brow and pointed. “I noticed the stains on your feet.”

Seven, eight, nine…

Girls murmured, and Wendy stepped forward. “Back off, hillbilly.”

Within inches of Wendy's face, Belinda placed her hands on her hips. “Are ya makin' a new law? Only city slickers can have a conversation?” She pushed her nose a hair's breadth from Wendy's. “Hmmm?”

Scowling, Wendy jerked her head. “As your kind would say: go suck an egg, skunk
.
”

Someone chuckled.

Another student said, “Shhh.”

In a threatening tone, Belinda said, “Takes one to know one, mop-head
.
” She pointed at ClaireLee's feet. “How'd ya get red feet?”

Thinking fast, ClaireLee covered one foot with the other.
Ten, eleven, twelve…
“We have clay dirt on our property in Oregon.” She lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “My mother says it'll wear off.” By now, Wendy's face paled with what appeared like anger, and ClaireLee held her breath.

Belinda pulled her hair into a pony-tail. “I never saw red dirt and whatnot.” She chuckled. “Ya miss home on the range, do ya?”

Her expression stiff, Wendy kept her eyes on Belinda. ClaireLee's fingers relaxed on the bathing suit. Would the Lavender Girls protect her?

Dipping her head, Belinda said, “How old are ya?”

ClaireLee's spine prickled, bumping faster the pace of her heart.
Must guard my secret. I'll pretend I'm twelve.
She counted more tiles, not realizing she spoke, “Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.” Laughter scattered and shot off the cement walls. Too late. ClaireLee crossed her shaky arms, and the
drip, drip, drip
from her suit streaked her slip-covered thigh. “I mean thirteen. I'm thirteen.”
Oh, why did I say this?

If only she could sink through the holes of the locker-room drain.

Taking a backward step, Belinda's eyes bulged like a frog's. “Ya got to be kiddin' me.”

The exit sign beckoned ClaireLee, and she longed to have on more than her underclothes.
I need to get out of here.

“I just became twelve on September first,” Belinda said. “When's your birthday?”

This was enough for ClaireLee, and she raised her chin. “You're way too nosey,” she whispered.

The half circle of girls leaned like a wave. Would they suffocate her?

“What did ya say now?” Belinda crossed her arms.

Even faster, ClaireLee's heart trotted. She could no longer keep her secret.
I'll act proud of my age
. “My birthday is September twenty-ninth, and I'm thinking I'm the oldest student in this whole school.”

Now, Belinda's face softened. “We just had our birthdays.” Then, she said, “But, how can ya be a year older when we're both in sixth?”

Gasping, Wendy stared open-mouthed. “Are you—a grade flunker?”

Those words hurt ClaireLee like a punch, as if she were the dunce of the century. She lowered her eyes, but then raised them to face Wendy and her accusation.

“She could have started first grade late.” Belinda said, “Right, ClaireLee?”

A flush trickled over her, and she grew hot enough to start a wildfire. “So, what? I repeated a grade.” She frowned at Wendy. “Name-calling isn't nice, either.” Wendy responded with a haughty smirk.

“Yeah, so what ya flunked?” Belinda hooked an arm around ClaireLee's shoulder, making her flinch. She patted ClaireLee's arm twice, nice and gentle. “Bell's gonna ring.” The crowd separated, and Belinda waved. “See ya in class, ClaireLee.”

As the girls filed out of the locker room, ClaireLee inhaled a soft breath and expelled to hush her jangled nerves.
Now Belinda's not mad?
She stood before the mirror and buttoned the plaid dress Mama had made for her. Wendy's reflection appeared behind her. The two girls watched each other, unblinking. Knees wobbling, ClaireLee said, “Like I said, Wendy, you shouldn't call people names.” She almost broke her stare for her bold remark to the most popular girl in school, but her lashes didn't flicker.

Even wet, Wendy's tresses flounced as she sashayed to class.

I must trust. I will not doubt. God is with me, so I'll not pout.
An urge came to create a tune, but her throat grew as thick as mud.

M
ama had commented many a time
, “ClaireLee, you view life through rosy glasses.”

Now, ClaireLee produced her most serious expression, seeing life like she's never seen it before. “No, Belinda, I don't want to sit with you at lunch tomorrow. When you're around, there's trouble.”

Back from the locker room, ClaireLee sat at her classroom desk. She was working herself into a sizzling temper, having forgotten not to pout. On her walk through the outside hallway, ClaireLee knew it was true. She was caught in the middle of a Lavender Girls and Belinda grudge match. And so, ClaireLee pressed her point. “If this is a trick, Belinda Cruz, go play it on someone else.”

“Pfaw, it sure is not.” Belinda bowed her head. “Let's start over with a howdy.”

Belinda's long fingers invited ClaireLee to shake hands, but she hesitated, and then she remembered her brothers' favorite saying:
double dare you
.

Unsure as to whether she should accept the shake, a voice interrupted.

“I'm waiting for you to sit down, Belinda, so I can read our next chapter.” Mrs. Reed pressed an opened book to her chest, watching.

Belinda gave ClaireLee's arm a gentle sock and off she meandered.

She wants to be nice.
ClaireLee slouched.
It's her fault the girls in class know I flunked a grade.

While Mrs. Reed's voice lilt and lowered with the story, ClaireLee closed her eyes and followed the wilderness family in
On the Banks of Plum Creek.
Understanding Laura Ingalls's stubborn behavior, she'd show Wendy Lavender. Flunking a grade didn't make her a dumb cluck.

And Belinda Cruz? She'd tame her one way, or another.