Swan Place (8 page)

“She did!” Michelle shot back, and then she went back to wearing that same look.

The teacher looked back at me, and I blinked at her with my face as open and honest as could be. But I could tell she had already made up her mind.

“Dove, you go down and see Miss Frazier.” And that was the way she dismissed me, and I found myself sitting in the principal’s office. Miss Frazier was a heavyset person, and that day, she was wearing a dress with tiny purple bows in the fabric. Made me think of Aunt Bett’s story about her and my mama taking music lessons. But I knew better than to smile. I’d never been sent to Miss Frazier’s office before, and I sat real still, trying to decide if I was mad because of Michelle lying about what I said or if I was scared to death. Miss Frazier closed my file and put her hands together on top of it.

“You’ve never caused trouble before, Dove. Now I know about your losing your mama so recently. Is that why you’re causing trouble?”

“No, ma’am.” I met her gaze without blinking.

“So what happened that you used curse words to Michelle? You hear that kind of talk at home?” I thought of Roy-Ellis and how sometimes he used bad words. But when he’d burned himself on that boiling water when he was helping us dye Easter eggs, he’d stopped himself from saying those words around us. And I hadn’t heard him say anything bad since then.

“No, ma’am,” I said. “But Michelle was saying bad things about my clothes, and I had to tell her to shut up. I
did
tell her to shut up, but I didn’t use any curse words. And that’s the truth. And it doesn’t have anything to do with
 . . .
Mama,” I managed to add, but then I knew I had to stop talking or I was going to cry. Miss Frazier studied me hard, and I sat there running my hand across the hem of Darlene’s last-year dress.

“Are you telling me that Michelle lied?” The question was sent at me just like a spear.

“Yes’m,” I gulped. “I guess I am.”

She leaned back in her chair and sighed.

“Dove, Michelle’s father is an outstanding member of this community. He has raised Michelle right, and I’m sure she doesn’t lie.”

“But I’ve been raised right too, and
I’m
not lying, Miss Frazier,” I said in all honesty.

“Well, I want you to stay away from Michelle altogether. I don’t want you to say
anything
to her. Do you understand?”

“Yes’m.” And I certainly did understand. Miss Frazier believed Michelle and not me.

“You may go now, but remember what I told you,” she warned.

“Yes’m.”

Going back to my classroom was awful hard to do, because when I came in, everybody looked at me, and especially Michelle, who smiled and tossed her head, as if to say “See what I can do?” I wanted to run, but I didn’t. I walked to my desk and sat down, and I didn’t even look at her again. That was the longest day of school I ever lived through in my whole life, and I couldn’t keep my mind on much of anything except what had happened. And what did her daddy being such an important person in our little town have to do with anything? Michelle out-and-out lied, but Miss Frazier believed her anyway.
Why?
I just couldn’t make any sense of it.

I was so glad when it was time to go home, and as I went up the steps to Aunt Bett’s house, my eyes started trying to sting. Aunt Bett was standing at the door, and Molly and Little Ellis were standing behind her.

“You sure you can manage all right with Molly and Little Ellis until Roy-Ellis gets home?”

“Yes’m,” I said. And Aunt Bett studied me hard.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, and I managed to nod my head. I didn’t dare try to say a single word, my heart was hurting so bad. So Molly and Little Ellis came with me and we walked home.

But the next day, I found out that Michelle wasn’t through with me yet. After recess, she told the teacher I’d stuck out my tongue at her, and Michelle’s friend confirmed the lie, so I wound up in Miss Frazier’s office again. This time, I was in tears, and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

“Dove, what have you done?” Miss Frazier accused, and I didn’t say a word, because I knew she wouldn’t believe me anyway. “Well, you will have to stay after school today. If you bother Michelle again, I’ll have to take stronger measures to get you to straighten up and behave yourself.”

So that second day back at school after spring holidays, I had to stay after school for a whole hour, and of course, I missed the bus and had to walk all the way home. When I got to Aunt Bett’s, she was standing out on the porch.

“Where have you been?” Aunt Bett demanded, but I was already so miserable, her angry tone didn’t bother me. “I was worried when I saw that you weren’t on the bus.”

“I had to stay after school,” I mumbled.

“What?”

“Just what I said. I had to stay after school.” Aunt Bett’s mouth was hanging open, and I wanted so bad to defend myself, but I had to be careful about not saying anything that would hurt her. But all of a sudden, my throat got so tight, I couldn’t speak. And a flood of water got in my eyes and all the blinking in this world wouldn’t take it away. Aunt Bett sat down on the top step and reached out for my hand.

“Talk to me, Dove. What’s wrong?” she asked, but I still couldn’t speak. And yet I knew the time had come to talk to somebody, anybody, because it was too much for me to carry all by myself. And I had no idea of how to put a stop to Michelle’s meanness.

So I told Aunt Bett about what Michelle was doing, but I said not a single word about what Michelle said about Aunt Bett’s trading pickles for clothes. I just said that Michelle was telling lies about me. I talked through hiccups and a runny nose and water rushing out of my eyes. Aunt Bett listened with her eyebrows drawn together. I finished up by telling her about how I had to stay after school. And for something I
didn’t
do. Why, I felt like throwing back my head and howling like an animal! Because what on earth was to be done about it? Michelle could go on lying and lying about me, and every single time, I would get into trouble.

Aunt Bett pulled a handkerchief out of her apron pocket and gave it to me. And she sat right there and looked at me for a long time. When she finally spoke, it was in a very low voice—almost a whisper.

“I guess there’s always someone like Michelle in every class in school,” she said. “But this is going beyond foolish teasing and the way almost all little girls pick on somebody or other at some time.”

“Did you ever have someone like that in your school?” I asked.

“Of course,” she said. “But it was just some harmless teasing me about my freckles, and it only lasted a little while.”

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. And I think that’s why it didn’t last long.”

“Huh?”

“When I told my mama about it, she said that if I didn’t pay any attention at all, the teasing would stop. I guess it’s only fun if the person getting teased acts upset about it.”

“That makes sense, and I can ignore it. But what can I do about Michelle lying and getting me in trouble? How on earth can I stop her?”

“You tell the principal the truth,” Aunt Bett said.

“That won’t help. She doesn’t believe me,” I said miserably.

“Why not?”

“I guess it has something to do with Michelle’s father being so important, or something.”

Aunt Bett sighed, and a bitter little look of some kind flickered through her eyes.

“Well, then. We’ve bumped into that ‘them’ and ‘us’ thing, I guess. So what we have to do is make sure you’re someplace during lunch where you have a witness who can testify that you didn’t do or say anything to Michelle. Then the principal would have to believe you.”

Why, that was nothing short of brilliant!

“Wow!” I said, and Aunt Bett blushed a little.

“Do you have a favorite teacher?” she asked me.

“Oh yes—Miss Madison,” I answered. Aunt Bett brightened visibly.

“Well then, why don’t you go see her tomorrow—and ask her if you can eat your lunch in her room. That way, you don’t have to go outside or be around Michelle at all. And if she tells any more lies about you, Miss Madison will be your witness.” Aunt Bett looked at me hard.

“But this is only for a little while, Dove. You can’t let Michelle make you hide forever. And when you’re around her again, no matter what she says and no matter how much it hurts you, you just pretend you didn’t hear her. If you don’t act upset, she’ll lose interest pretty soon and start picking on somebody else.”

“That’s a good idea, Aunt Bett,” I said. “A very good idea.” We sat in silence for a few minutes, and I could tell that Aunt Bett was proud of herself for coming up with such a good idea.

“Sometimes I think the boys have things easier,” she added. “They have trouble, they just settle it with their fists. But girls can’t do that.” I was surprised to see that she had tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” she added, simply. I saw that bitter little look flicker through her eyes, and I thought once again about what terribly mean things Michelle had said about her. It almost broke my heart. Took me a few minutes to realize that it was just love hurting me again! Would it never stop?

The next morning,
I got up real early and took Molly and Little Ellis to Aunt Bett’s so I could walk to school and get there ahead of classes. I was praying that Miss Madison would be there early too, so I could talk to her without anyone else being around. I got to school before anybody, and I was sitting and waiting in the back row of seats when she came into her classroom.

“Dove!” she said, surprised. “Is anything wrong?” I got up and followed her to her desk and while she put her papers into her drawer and took off her sweater, I told her everything about what Michelle was doing. When I came to the part about Miss Frazier, I was very careful. I know better than to speak ill of a principal to a teacher—any teacher. And I told her about what Aunt Bett had suggested and why I wanted to spend my lunch times in her classroom. She listened like she was taking in my words through her very pores. And when I finally stumbled to a stop, she said, “Well, of course, you may spend your lunch time in my room. But
 . . .
” I held my breath. Miss Madison just
had
to help me, and whatever I had to do, I would do it.

“Surely, you understand that you can’t hide from Michelle forever. That way, you let her win. At some point, you have to learn to ignore children like her.” Oh, how I did like Miss Madison grouping Michelle in with “children”! “And if you want to be in my classroom for your whole lunch time, you will have to put your time to good use.”

“I will!” I agreed, with relief. She opened a bottom drawer of her desk and took out a new Blue Horse notebook.

“When you finish your lunch, you will write in this,” she said.

“Write what?” I asked, while she put the new notebook on her desk and pushed it toward me.”

“Anything you want to write.”

“Anything?”

“Yes. Will you do that?”

“I will,” I promised, and just then, some of her early students came into the room, talking and laughing.

“Then I’ll see you at lunch time,” she said. And I could hear the gentle dismissal in her voice.

I was ever so happy in all of my morning classes, knowing that I had the new notebook and that I didn’t have to worry about Michelle and her lies about me. Lunch time came, and I had a nice, long drink from the water fountain before I went into Miss Madison’s room. When I went in, she was at her desk, writing. She looked up at me, nodded her head, and went back to her work. I sat down in a desk in the back row, put my books away, and left only three things on the desk: my sandwich, the new notebook—open to that first pure, blank page—and my pen. I looked up at Miss Madison. She had a sandwich too, and while I watched, she unwrapped it, took the half in both hands, and bit down on it—all the while still looking at whatever she had been writing. So I did the same thing, only the page I looked at was absolutely blank—except for all those perfect, pale blue lines, waiting to be filled up. I looked up again. Miss Madison was dabbing her mouth with a paper napkin. So again, I did the same, with the sheet of paper towel that was my napkin. When she started on the second half of her sandwich, so did I. And when the sandwiches—hers and mine—were gone, she wiped her hands, gathered the waxed paper and the napkin together, and tossed them into the trash can. But I didn’t have a trash can to throw things in, so I wadded up my waxed paper and paper towel and stuffed them into my pocket.