The Secrets of Tree Taylor (19 page)

I finally dragged myself to bed, where I found another typed note waiting for me. It would have been so great if whatever words I was about to read would answer every question, solve every problem. But I knew better. I unfolded the paper and read:

Now that was the truth. I wondered which of my many secrets Jack was thinking of when he copied the quote. But my brain felt too tired to work it out.

I clicked off my light and crawled between the sheets, but I couldn’t sleep. My mind refused to shut down. It had felt great having Dad talk to me as if we’d never fought. But I couldn’t get over seeing him fight with his best friend.

My thoughts turned to
my
best friends. Sarah wasn’t mad at me, but she was leaving me anyway. We’d been best school friends our whole lives. And now she’d be in Kansas.

And what about Jack? He wasn’t mad at me, either. But he’d sided with his dad, and I’d sided with mine. What if Vietnam got in the way of
our
friendship? The thought made me hate that whole country for stirring up things here in Missouri.

And talking with Jack had helped, but it sure hadn’t solved the problem of what would happen to Mrs. Kinney if I wrote the truth about her. Or what would happen to me if I didn’t.

Then there was Penny. I really liked talking with her, but she was so skittish, so secretive.

My mind even traveled to the Lynches and the Quiet House, filled with dragons and pain.

The only bright spot in my whole week had been Ray. So I closed my eyes and pictured Ray and me sitting on the swing, talking and laughing. It wasn’t much to hold on to. But as I lay on my bed alone and in the dark, it was about all I had.

When Penny didn’t show up at the pool on Monday, my new worrywart nature set in. The way she’d lit out when she saw Chuck the other day—something hadn’t felt right. I was pretty sure she and Karen weren’t close, either. As far as I knew, Penny didn’t have a single friend … except maybe me.

After I got off work, I went straight to Mrs. Kinney’s. I didn’t plan on asking her any of the questions on my list, and I wasn’t really sure why I wanted to go there. I just did.

“What’s on your mind, Bo Peep?”

We’d settled into our chairs with our nutmeg hot chocolates.

“Bo Peep?”

“Well, you look like you lost your sheep and don’t know where to find them.”

I supposed she was right about that. “I guess I’m still upset about losing Sarah. We’ve been best friends since we were
babies, Mrs. Kinney. Her dad sold their farm without even telling her. And
Kansas
! How can they move to Kansas?”

“That’s a real shame.” She sounded like she meant it, like she understood.

“Did you ever have a best friend?” I asked.

She sighed. “Once. Leastwise, I thought she was a best friend. Seems kind of silly now. But I remember how it was, like the whole world crumbled.”

“What happened?”

She rocked a few times in her rocker before going on. “Arlene. Lived next door. Well, the farm next door, anyways. Didn’t have no kindergarten like you got now. If I got my chores done, I’d walk to Arlene’s, and we’d play. My, we used to laugh. Made mud pies, like the DeShon boys ’cross the street. Jumped in mounds of hay. Or just roamed the hills together.”

“That sounds like fun. Sarah and I used to jump from the barn loft into a giant haystack.” I tried to imagine Mrs. Kinney and Arlene jumping with Sarah and me. It made a funny picture. “What happened to Arlene?”

“School. Come time for fourth grade to start, and Arlene, she changed, I reckon.” Mrs. Kinney stopped, and her gaze went past me and on to something I couldn’t see. “That first day, I sought her out to sit next to, being’s how we always did sit together.” She shook her head. “Arlene acted like she had no idea who I was.”

For a minute, I thought Mrs. Kinney might have forgotten I was there. She kept staring out into space.

I cleared my throat. “That was mean of Arlene.” I wanted
to say more. I could see the hurt still there after so many years, fresh enough to make her eyes water.

She shifted in her rocker and brushed imaginary dust from her skirt. “Well, Bo Peep, is Sarah the only one troubling you today?”

I wondered how she knew. I had a whole flock of sheep bothering me, including Mrs. Kinney herself and the article I was supposed to write about her. But Penny was at the top of my “lost sheep” list. “Okay. There’s this girl at the pool.”

“Giving you trouble, is she?”

“No. Not like that. But there
is
one like that,” I added.

“Wanda.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah. But this is a different girl and a different story.”

I noticed the tiny whipped-cream mustache on her lip. I pointed to my lip, and she got the signal and used her napkin.

“So this other gal, she a friend of yours?”

“Kind of, I guess. She’s in my class and comes to the pool. She and her brother and sister have come over to hang out with Jack and me a few times. But I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. Like she’s scared all the time and filled with secrets.”

“This gal got a name?”

“Penny. Penny Atkinson.”

“I know of her. Seen her in the hardware store when I was there with Alfred. At the library, time to time.”

“She said she’d seen you before.” I stopped there and didn’t add the part about how Penny had said Mrs. Kinney did whatever Mr. Kinney wanted. “Thing is, I’m kind of her only friend, and I’m not much of a friend.”

“That must happen to you a good bit, being a kind-of only friend.” She grinned, and I thought she was saying that I was
her
kind-of only friend.

I smiled back. I couldn’t imagine being her only friend, though. “What about your neighbors, Mrs. Kinney? You’ve got Mrs. Overstreet.” I would have guessed that Mrs. Overstreet dropped by all the time. She sure did at our house. Once, after Mrs. Overstreet’s fourth “emergency” visit to our house that day, Dad explained to Eileen and me that Mrs. Overstreet was a hypochondriac. Eileen happily informed me that meant Mrs. O. only thought she was sick. Mom and Dad were afraid to play croquet after dinner because Mrs. Overstreet might spot them and waddle up for a talk about her latest ailment. Dad believed Mrs. Overstreet would send him to an early grave, while going on to live to be a hundred herself.

Mrs. Kinney sighed. “I don’t think Mrs. Overstreet considers me a friend. She still thinks of me as the little waif in the back row of her eighth-grade English class. She likely remembers how I used to read books during her lectures, instead of listening to her.”

“I’ll bet she’s forgotten all that,” I said.

Mrs. Kinney shook her head. “It doesn’t appear she’s forgotten a lick of it.”

“Then amnesia must be the only ailment she doesn’t suffer from.”

We both chuckled a little.

I tried to think of her other neighbors. Probably not the DeShons. “What about Gary and Mrs. Lynch?”

“Gary? That poor boy. Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of
his acquaintance, though I’ve thought on him quite a bit. On my downest days, I remember that young’un, who can’t never get out and see the world. Oh, not that I’ve seen much more. But I travel in my mind.” There was a glint in her eyes, like a candle being lit.

“My dad said I should think about Gary when I start complaining.”

“And do you?”

“Not enough,” I admitted.

“But you done thought about this Penny?”

“I guess. We talk at the pool. I’ve even talked to Penny about you.”

Her expression flattened. “Have you, now?”

“Just that you and I have been getting to be friends,” I added quickly. “You’d like her. I think she’d like to meet you.” It was just something to say. Penny and I had talked about Mrs. Kinney, but neither of us ever talked about Penny meeting her.

“Can’t imagine why she’d want to meet me,” Mrs. Kinney said. “But I guess I don’t see how it’s a problem if one kind-of friend meets up with another kind-of friend. Bring her by next time. I’ve got plenty of nutmeg.”

As I said goodbye, I was already imagining getting the two quietest people I knew together. And as I walked down the Kinney porch steps, I wondered what I’d gotten myself into.

Penny didn’t show up the next day, and I still hadn’t heard from Jack since the Vietnam argument.

Mrs. Lynch surprised us by coming to the pool—without Gary, of course. It was only the second time I’d seen her there. “Hey, Mrs. Lynch!” I called.

“Hello, Tree. My mother’s in town for the day, so I thought I’d take advantage and show my support for my swimming pool.”

“That’s nice of you. How’s Gary?”

She grinned. “Thanks for asking, sweetheart. Did you know my boy will be turning nine on Thursday?”

“Well, tell him happy birthday for me. Are you having a birthday party for him?”

The smile disappeared. “I wish I could. Gary’s condition makes him catch every germ any visitor might carry without even knowing it. But I’ll bake him a cake. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets another visit from his Secret Dragon.”

I remembered what Dad said about Gary loving dragons. “He has a Secret Dragon?”

“He does. For about a year now, somebody has been dropping off a dragon every now and then—a toy, a book about dragons, a T-shirt with a dragon on it.”

“Who is it?”

“Wish I knew. I’d like to thank him.” She squinted sideways at me. “Don’t suppose you’ve caught your daddy with a stuffed dragon in his pocket? He’s high on my suspect list.”

“Can’t say as I have.” But it would have been like my dad.

Mrs. Lynch didn’t stay long, but she spent the whole time swimming, not sunning.

I thought about the Secret Dragon. It was kind of nice knowing about a good secret for a change.

That night, before I could change my mind, I called Penny. Someone picked up after the fifth ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi. This is Tree Taylor. Is Penny home?”

“Yeah.”

“Could I talk to her, please?”

“Yeah.” There was the hint of a laugh.

“Is that you, Penny?”

“Yeah.”

Great. Another one-way call. “So I get a chatty conversation, like the last time I called you?”

“Yeah.”

“Thought I’d see you at the pool today.”

“Didn’t feel like swimming,” she said.

“Okay. Well, I had this idea. And you might not feel like doing it, either. But you know Mrs. Kinney, right? I told you I’ve been visiting her. Turns out she’s really nice. But lonely. And I’m the only one who visits her.… Are you still there?”

“Yeah.”

“So I was thinking, maybe you’d like to go see her with me tomorrow? I get off early. We could meet up at the pool. Or at my house. She’d really like to meet you.” That part was a stretch, but I was pretty much talking to myself anyway.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Yeah? You’ll come? I get off at three. Will that work?”

“Yeah.”

We said goodbye. At least I did. Then I went to sleep, wondering again what I was getting myself into.

The next day Penny didn’t come to the pool, so I figured she must have finked out on me. But when I got home, she was waiting outside. We walked straight to Mrs. Kinney’s and knocked.

Mrs. Kinney opened the door, wide this time. “Hope you don’t mind hot chocolate in the summertime, Penny,” she said.

She’d dragged out another chair from somewhere, but Penny took the couch. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room were our slurpings as we drank our hot chocolate.

I tried starting a conversation about swimming. I tried talking about the steam engine show. But I ended up talking to myself.

“So,” I tried again, “guess who I saw at the pool yesterday.”

They didn’t guess.

“Mrs. Lynch. Gary’s mother.”

“Ah,” Penny said.

“That poor young’un,” Mrs. Kinney said.

“She said Gary’s birthday is tomorrow. He can’t even have a party because kids would give him germs. That’s why he can’t go anywhere, either.”

“Now, that’s a real sadness,” Mrs. Kinney declared.

I tried leaning back in my chair, but the chair had no lean to it. “I wish we could do something for Gary. Maybe we could come up with something to give him for his birthday.”

“We could give him books?” Penny ventured.

“Great idea!” I exclaimed, a little overly enthusiastic because she had actually said more than two words. “Only I don’t know how much he can read.”

“Maybe his ma reads to him,” Mrs. Kinney said.

“Right!” I said. “But she works from home. I’m not sure what she does, but Dad says she works all the time when she’s not seeing to Gary.”

“I’ll bet he’s got a good mind,” Mrs. Kinney said.

Now I clammed up because I didn’t know where she was going with that one.

But from the look on Penny’s face, she understood what Mrs. Kinney meant. “You’re right. When all you can do is live inside yourself, your mind has to get big enough to handle it.”

Mrs. Kinney nodded. “Yep. That’s what I’m saying. I go all sorts of places in my own head. I hope that little fella can travel inside his.”

“Then that’s it,” Penny said.

“I reckon you’re right, Penny,” Mrs. Kinney agreed.

“Wait—you’ve lost me,” I said.

“Mind travel,” Mrs. Kinney explained. “We’ll make it so Gary can travel in his mind.”

From there, we tossed out ideas like crazy, popping them off right and left. Mrs. Kinney may have moved like a turtle, but her mind hopped like a hare. She came up with five ideas to every one of mine.

We finally settled on getting Gary to Camelot, where King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table—and plenty of dragons—lived.

“His birthday is tomorrow,” I said, wondering if we really could pull off this plan. “Eileen saw a musical called
Camelot
at the Kansas City playhouse, but there isn’t a city called Camelot, right?”

“I got pictures of Essex in England and Cadbury Castle in Somerset,” Mrs. Kinney offered. “That’s as close as we’ll get to what them Arthur legends talk about. Only my pictures are mostly tore from magazines. I wish they was bigger.”