No Small Victory (9 page)

“No, thank you,” Marianne said in a cold tone. Betty looked hurt. She got up and walked inside the school.

“This orange is good,” said Bonnie. “Why didn't you want any?”

“Because Betty always wants payment. She'll expect you to give her answers for arithmetic this afternoon. If you don't, she'll never offer you another piece.”

“Are her parents rich?”

“No! They're poor, but they're on Relief. Most of the people in Lang are on Relief. In Peterborough, people can go to soup kitchens, but not here. So some people accept money from the government.”

“Oh,” said Bonnie. Relief didn't sound too bad. She wondered why her own parents were so against it.

As if answering her question, Marianne said, “We farmers never take Relief. We're a step above that.”

“What is Relief, exactly?”

“It's like charity from the government, to keep poor people from starving. Most folks won't accept it.”

“Well, the people in Lang don't have farm food the way we do. They don't have cows to milk. So I guess they really need Relief.”

“That's true,” Marianne said and thought for a while. “Well, anyway, I hate it that they can eat oranges and bananas and other things, too, and we can't!”

The two girls stared down at their toes as a dark cloud sent a big shadow across the schoolyard.

“Maybe we'll be rich someday!” Marianne said brightly. “I'd like to be a nurse. I'm always taking care of sick animals.”

“So why don't you be a vet?”

“I'd like that, but did you ever know of a girl vet?”

Bonnie thought. “No, but there are women doctors—so there must be some women vets, too.”

“I never knew a woman doctor.”

“Well, our doctor at Belleville was a woman—Dr. Connor. And she was the best doctor in the whole countryside. She travelled around in her horse and buggy, visiting patients. It was five miles across that cold Bay Bridge from Belleville just to our place!”

“I still think I might like to be a nurse,” said Marianne.

Then, as the shadow of another cloud crossed the yard, Bonnie sensed someone standing in front of them. It was Lawrence, whom all the kids called Slinky, and another big boy—probably Tom, Bonnie thought. Slinky was smiling with his mouth open wide, a huge, greasy grin that matched the greasy light brown hair that straggled over his ears. He was wearing a grey undershirt under his coveralls, and mud was smeared under his left eye. His small green eyes squinted at Bonnie.

“Lunch hour's only half over, Tom,” said Marianne. “Are you looking for your sister Pearl?”

“Nope. She's still at home. I ate fast and came back early.” Tom was a sturdy boy with broad shoulders. He brushed a shock of dark brown hair off his forehead and stared at Bonnie with large, cold, blue eyes. He was not smiling.

But his friend Slinky laughed a big, ugly laugh. “Do you know who's sitting next to you?” he drawled.

“Of course I do. Bonnie Brown, our new neighbour.”

“Aren't you afraid to sit beside her?”

“Why should I be?”

“She comes from the consumption house. My parents say she shouldn'a bin allowed to come to school and infect us all. They went to the health-medic in Keene, but Dr. Wright says there ain't nothin' he kin do 'bout it.”

“Yeah, so we figger we will,” Tom sneered.

“Bonnie, go run to the girls' toilet,” Marianne whispered. “They won't dare follow you there!” Then Marianne stood up and looked—first Tom, then Slinky—right in the eye. “Mind your own business or I'll tell the teacher.” Marianne pushed Slinky's chest with the flat of her hand.

I will not run away
, Bonnie told herself, standing her ground.
I won't let the bullies see I'm scared. Mum said to stand
my ground!
But she felt her heart thumping.

In the next second, Bonnie felt four rough hands grab her by the shoulders. Marianne pulled back on her middy collar, but the boys won out. Pupils all over the schoolyard were now staring as Tom and Slinky pulled Bonnie across the lawn.

Bonnie's heart was pounding harder and harder. She started screaming, “Let me go! Let—me—go!”

But the boys kept dragging her across the grass.

Was no one going to help her?

Now the bullies were throwing Bonnie onto the cement platform of the school water pump. Tom was working the pump handle, and Slinky hung on to her arms so tightly she could not move.

Maybe they were just going to make her drink some cold water. She stopped struggling and watched.

Then, in a sudden movement, Slinky tipped her head under the spout and yelled, “Keep pumping, Tom! We'll get rid of them darn germs!”

Now, Bonnie squirmed desperately to be free. Then she heard something else. It was…it was cheering. All the kids were egging the bullies on! But why? Did they hate her? Did they think she was a show-off because she answered a Grade Five question in class? Or a snob because she wouldn't play baseball?

“Hold 'er head under! Don't want water all over that purty dress. McDougall would tan us for sure. But let me at that ugly mop of hair. Probably full of germs—and cooties!”

Bonnie gasped for air, but Tom kept on pumping. The water got colder and colder. There was water in Bonnie's eyes, her nose, her mouth, and her ears.

She was sputtering and coughing, but the water kept coming.

“See, what did I tell ya? Consumption! Ain't she fulla germs? Better wash 'er up some more!”

“Stop, you deadbeats!” cried Marianne. “Do you want to hang for murder? She could choke to death.”

“Watch your language, Miss Prissy, or I'll tell your Dad,” said Tom.

“Mr. McDougall will be back soon!” yelled Marianne.

Finally, Tom stopped pumping and Slinky threw Bonnie on the grass. When she could open her eyes again, she saw a whole group of kids—maybe half the school—walking away with their backs turned.

Only one person stood beside Bonnie.

“Here,” said a voice. It was Marianne's. She wiped Bonnie's face with a white, lace-trimmed handkerchief. “I know a nice sunny stone behind the school. We can sit there till you dry out.”

Blinking back her tears, Bonnie let Marianne lead her around to the other side of the school. In the distance she heard more sounds of cheering. It was the same kids, but they were playing baseball now.

“You just wait, Bonnie, till I tell Mr. McDougall,” said Marianne. “I bet he'll keep them in after school for a month. You'll see!”

“Oh, no! Marianne,” exclaimed Bonnie. “You can't tell on them! It would only make matters worse. Anyway, I don't want to be a tattletale!”

“Well, you wouldn't be if
I
tattle, and
I
won't mind what they think.” Marianne was still very angry.

Bonnie grabbed her friend's hand and pleaded. “You can't. Please, for me—don't do it! Mum says I have to stand up for myself. You have to let it go, Marianne.”

For a long minute, Marianne stared at Bonnie's pleading eyes, and then she nodded.

On the way home from school, Bonnie followed Archie along the path in the woods.

“All the kids at school hate me. You went home at noon. And Slinky and Tom drenched my head under the pump. The rest of the kids cheered—except for Marianne.”

“I heard. Awful sorry, Bonnie. But you're okay now, aren't you?”

“Yes, but—”

“They don't hate you. It's just that you're the new kid. Look, I'm taking my lunch tomorrow. So you'll be okay. Now, stop thinking about those boys. I want you to meet my crow.”

“Oh Archie, I don't think—”

“Quiet, Bonnie! You could scare the crow away!”

“Then how do I tell you when I want to say something?”

“That's what the aspen branches are for, remember? You tap me on the shoulder with a branch. When I turn around, you whisper what you want to say. Now, what did you want to say?”

“Oh, never mind,” said Bonnie. But after a while she tapped him with her branch.

“Yes?” Archie whispered.

“Are you sure about this crow, Archie?”

“Of course I am. I told you—it came to me once. Just wait. You'll see it one of these days.”

“Well, I'm tired of tramping through the woods. Let's get home so you can have a good visit with Boots.”

As soon as they were out of the woods, Archie cried, “Race ya!” and ran down the hill toward the barnyard.

Bonnie let him go. Though he hadn't said so, she knew that Archie had walked home with her to make sure the bullies didn't follow. She was grateful, but now she had to think by herself. Should she tell her parents what had happened?

Bonnie decided not to say anything. What was the use? Mum would just say she should stand up to the bullies. After all, that's what Mum had done. Bonnie hated to admit it, but she knew she wasn't nearly as brave as Mum.

“Wait for me, Archie!” she yelled, grabbing the top of the barnyard gate and jumping over it. “Wow, Archie! Look what I did! I cleared the gate in just one leap!”

But Archie wasn't listening. He was running ahead with Boots at his heels. So Bonnie went chasing after the two of them. Soon they were all zigzagging around the barnyard.

EIGHT:
SWING HIGH

Bonnie was in a complete daze as she walked to school one brisk Monday morning in early November. The afternoon before, Mrs. Elmhirst and her son, Roy, had visited the farm. Her parents had been pleased by the owner's compliments on their upkeep of the place.

Then Mrs. Elmhirst had asked Bonnie if she liked her new school.

“No,” Bonnie had said, “I don't.”

Bonnie could still see the hard stares from Mum and Dad. So she had added, “I do like school, but I don't like…”

Then, Roy the business man came to the rescue. He smiled and winked at her as he said, “Perhaps, you mean that you don't like being the new pupil.” Bonnie had nodded and smiled with relief.

The visit over, her parents walked with the Elmhirsts to their Ford Lincoln. Roy turned to Dad and said, “Do you mind if I give something to Bonnie to help her in the new school?”

“It's fine with me,” Dad said, smiling.

Roy turned around and pressed something into Bonnie's hand. She mumbled, “Thank you,” in a very low voice. Mum did not like her accepting anything from anyone.

After their guests had gone, Bonnie ran upstairs to her bed and opened her hand. She could not believe her eyes. It was a whole quarter! Was she seeing things? Was it really that much? Yes, it was a quarter. She'd only ever had a nickel to spend. This was worth five of them!

She was still daydreaming about it the next morning, all the way to school. A nickel would buy a package of five suckers—big, round suckers all wrapped together in cellophane. She liked the orange and lemon best, but brown ones were good, too. Black was also nice, and even green candy wasn't too bad. But for a quarter, she could also buy a huge chocolate bar, or a big ice-cream cone with two rounded scoops side by side; or she could buy a delicious bottle of Orange Crush that would tickle all the way down her throat. But she finally decided to share it with her best friends—she would take them to the store at lunchtime.

The morning stretched out uneventfully. At noon, Bonnie, Marianne, and Angela stepped quickly along the pathway by the road that led to the general store. A brisk wind nipped at the girls' scarves and whipped them across their faces.

“Brrr! It's cold for this time of year,” said Bonnie. In Massassaga, the days were usually sunny and snowless until December.

“Around here, once November comes, one can expect snow anytime,” said Angela.

“And it probably won't leave till spring,” said Marianne with a sigh.

As Marianne flung open the door of the little all-purpose store, the girls felt the rush of warm air from the pot-belly stove in the centre of the room. There was no one sitting in the chairs around the stove. Most folks were too busy now preparing their homes for winter.

“And what can I do for you fine ladies this afternoon?” asked Mr. Weir, the owner. He leaned against the shelves behind the counter and put his thumbs behind his suspenders.

“I am treating my friends today,” Bonnie said proudly. “Can you show us your assortment of suckers?” Bonnie thought “assortment” was the right word. She liked the way it sounded, anyway.

Mr. Weir smiled broadly under his grey moustache as he limped around the counter. He had never recovered from an old war wound. “Here you are, ladies. Take a look at that jar! I have suckers in every colour of the rainbow. Five cents for five. But you must pick all different colours when purchasing from this jar—that is, for the price I said.”

Bonnie and Marianne opened their eyes wide and let their jaws drop. Angela just smiled. Then all three circled around the jar like bees around a honeycomb. They chose red for Marianne, purple for Angela, and orange for Bonnie. That left only yellow and green for the last two.