The Sugar Mountain Snow Ball (10 page)

The sun had already begun to set behind the mountains as I walked down our driveway, even though the whole world still felt fresh and crisp and sparkling clean. I was so excited to visit Eleanor's house for the first time that I rushed over without checking the mystery boy's giant yard to see if he was around, and to ask why he had been spying on us. I even forgot to peek behind the Dumpsters down Apparition Way for signs of Madame M as I power-walked through the village.

Since I'd hurried over to Eleanor's so fast, I arrived fifteen minutes early, which seemed too soon to land at someone's house as a guest, so I set down my cookie gift box on their front steps and spelled out a snow message in the Bandaranaikes' side yard that said
THANK YOU
!!

Their house was one level and painted a creamy yellow. It looked brand-new. I checked my watch, picked up the cookie box, and rang the doorbell at exactly five o'clock.

When Eleanor cracked the door open I could barely contain my excitement.

“MIM SENT OVER A DOZEN NON-REJECT MONSTER CHUNK COOKIES IN ONE OF THE SPECIAL SLOPE SIDE CAFÉ CARTONS FOR DESSERT!!” I shouted, before the door was fully opened.

She stared, almost as if she didn't recognize me.

“Welcome, Ruby!” said Mr. B, who appeared at Eleanor's side. “We're delighted to have you join us.”

“Hi there, Mr. B! Thanks for having me,” I said, plowing through the front door. “Wow! I just love your house.”

“Thank you,” he said, smiling hard. “Please make yourself at home.”

“Ruby,” Eleanor whispered as she caught my arm, “you have to take off your boots.”

I glanced down and saw that both Eleanor and her father were wearing thin foreign sandals.

“Oh, this is going to be
so
fun. Everything's already wicked different.”

I gave them tons of compliments on their decorations, which is the thing to do when you go to someone's home for the first time, but in this case I totally meant everything I said, because their house was super cute and neat and reminded me of a dollhouse.

“Oooooh, that's a nice vase . . . and I love this gold rug! That picture of elephants doesn't look like anything you'd buy here in Paris.”

“This way, Ruby,” said her father, so I followed him, in stocking feet, down the bright hallway to the family room.

“And you have so many windows—but I know that's because we live in a really old house, and in the olden days they didn't have so many windows, to keep the heat in, except they usually had a couple windows in the front of the house, like ours, so you could see what was going on outside.”

I could hear myself talking way too much, and way too fast, but I was just so happy to be there.

“Please, sit down,” said Mr. B, pointing at a big soft chair next to the warm fireplace.

“Everything is just so—I don't know—pretty, and there's no clutter at all. I can't believe I've never been here, Eleanor; your house is
super cute
.”

Eleanor coughed and then asked, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Sure. What've you got?”

“I understand you prefer soda,” said Mr. B, “so I bought a bottle of cola for you.”

“Not for me, thanks. I guess I forgot to tell you, Eleanor. We've cut out soda at home. I told Mim how the twins drink your water
down at the playground, and that you said drinking soda was the same as pouring sugar down your throat, so Mim agreed and stopped buying it, and now we're drinking gallons of chocolate milk. It's delicious and has tons of vitamins.”

Eleanor was quiet, like she didn't know what to say. I'm sure she found it hard to believe I didn't want soda, since I used to drink it all the time.

“So very sorry,” her father mumbled. “We have neither milk nor chocolate.”

He looked like he felt bad about that, so I quickly said, “Oh, anything you have would be great. I love trying new stuff.”

That made him smile again.

“Have you ever tasted coconut water?” he asked. “It's a very popular beverage in our country.”

“No, but that sounds delicious!”

Eleanor and I were finally alone together in their family room area while Mr. B went off to get us the drinks. For some reason, Eleanor felt she had to remind me not to say anything about E & R Dream Designs, which I already knew could get her in trouble, because she wasn't allowed to have a job, even though it wasn't technically a job, but I promised her she didn't have to worry a bit about me. I was on my best behavior.

She still looked kind of nervous.

I had lots of questions to ask Mr. B, since Eleanor was always so secretive about her life, like she thought I wouldn't know that her family does a lot of stuff differently from most people because her parents aren't from here. But of course I understood that, and
even thought it was awesome, so I truly wanted to know all about it. I've always been very curious about other people and faraway countries.

So after Mr. B returned with the coconut drink, he sat down to talk because dinner was still cooking. And the first thing he said was that
he
wanted to ask
me
a few questions, which made me laugh, since we were obviously thinking alike, and both of us had very curious minds.

“Ruby,” he said, “tell me, how go your studies?”

I wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, so I said, “Whaddya mean?”

That's when I noticed that Eleanor was starting to squeeze her hands together, the way she does when things aren't going well. I couldn't figure out what was bothering her so much, since everything seemed great to me.

“Thaththa just wants to know how school is.”

“Oh,” I replied with a smile. “It's fine. How's the gas business?”

He crinkled up his forehead and frowned a little, and then he shook his head from side to side, and said, “Okay,” like he wasn't sure.

Then he asked, “What is your favorite subject to study?”

This was such a typical grown-up question, which honestly made me want to yawn, but I smiled politely and replied, “Well, definitely not gym. Eleanor and I are always coming up with ways of squirming out of that class, unless Ms. Duncan lets us play Ping-Pong, which is the only sport we like. I guess if lunch and recess don't count, then I would have to say Spanish. It's level one, so it's still pretty easy, and Senorita Johnson never gives us any homework.”

Mr. B tilted his head and squinted like he was having a hard time understanding
me
this time, so I talked a little slower.

“So how come you and Mrs. B moved to this country? Didn't you like that island where you lived?”

Before her father could answer, Eleanor jumped up and started to cough again, but this time she hacked like she was choking on something, even though we weren't eating anything yet, so I guess her coconut drink went down the wrong tube. I jumped up too and banged on her back.

“Thaththa?” she said in a raspy voice, after she had caught her breath, still coughing a little. “I smell something. Do you think you should check on the curry?”

15

As soon as her father had disappeared into the kitchen, Eleanor wiggled her finger at me, like she does when she wants me to follow her, and we went into her bedroom. I couldn't believe how much her room reminded me of her, from the pale green walls to the pretty white desk in the corner.

“I thought it would be easier to talk in here for a while and let Thaththa finish making the dinner,” she said as we plopped down on her bed.

“Maybe someday we can have a sleepover,” I suggested.

Eleanor stared down at her lacy bedspread and picked at loose threads.

“Maybe.”

She seemed kind of glum.

“Are you okay?” I asked. “You're awfully quiet, and you keep coughing, and squeezing your hands.”

She glanced away. “It's hard to explain.”

“Is it about your mother? Is she coming home?”

“Not yet. Nenda Soma isn't any better.”

“Are you sad because your amma couldn't see me tonight? Because you don't have to be sad—I'll come back anytime.”

Eleanor didn't say anything, so I guessed that was part of what was bothering her. But I didn't know how to cheer her up, so I scanned the room, searching for something special to compliment. That's when I noticed a large, round cardboard box on the floor near the desk. I jumped off the bed and picked it up.

“This is interesting. Where did you get it?”

“Put it down, Ruby!”

I hadn't expected that reaction at all. In fact, I had never seen Eleanor so upset. I slowly placed it back on the floor like it was booby-trapped.

“Sorry,” she said. “It's just . . . it's just that”—she was stumbling over her words like she was nervous again—“I keep important things in there. I didn't mean to leave it out.”

“Oh, is it where you hide all your yarn and needles and stuff? Or the new rainbow chokers?”

She shook her head. “No, I keep all my knitting supplies in the bottom drawers of my bureau.”

Something fishy was going on. My birthday wasn't until the summer, so it couldn't be that. What would she be hiding from me, her best friend?

“By important, do you mean top-secret?”

“It's nothing interesting—really.”

Eleanor slid off her bed, pushed the box into the closet, and closed the door.

“Ruby,” she said, changing the subject, “the reason I don't have people over to my house is—well, it's complicated.”

“Complicated? What's so complicated about your house?” I asked. “I adore your house. And your bedroom is a lot bigger than mine.”

“What I'm talking about is . . . it's . . . well, it's more about protocol and traditional customs and appropriate topics of conversation with adults. The ways in which my family interacts are very different from yours. And from everyone else's in Paris.”

“What do you mean? Like Christmas and holidays? I know you're Buddish and don't do Christmas. I don't care.”

“No, not that exactly. And it's
Buddhist
. Not Buddish.”

I had never seen Eleanor act like this. She could normally explain anything; even when she used all sorts of big words to do it, I eventually got what she was trying to say.

“Are you worried about the Monster Chunk cookies? Because I know you only eat vegetables and fish, but there isn't any meat in them. I promise.”

“Meat in cookies?”

All at once, Eleanor's eyes widened and she burst out laughing. Eleanor had the best laugh in the whole world when you got her going, and once she started, she had a hard time stopping.

“Who would put meat in cookies?!” she squealed, gasping between each word as she collapsed onto the floor, laughing and clutching her stomach.

“Pardon me, girls?”

Her father had entered the room and stared at Eleanor like she had lost her marbles.

“Is everything all right in here?”

“Don't worry about us, Mr. B! Sometimes all this silliness builds up in Eleanor until she completely cracks up, and then you just have to wait until she gets it out of her system.”

Well, you would have thought I'd just said Eleanor won Best Daughter of the Year or something, because her father grinned so hard, I thought he was going to burst too. He swung his arm around me like I was his long-lost cousin.

“Ruby LaRue, you enlighten our world!” he said. “I am so glad you came to dinner. You must come and visit us often.”

16

I held hands with Henry and Charlie, one on each side, as we trudged down the unshoveled sidewalk toward Dream Central. I had so much to do today, but we were running late because Mrs. Petite had insisted on throwing our jackets in her dryer to warm them before we headed out into the freezing cold afternoon.

As usual, Eleanor was already sitting at our regular picnic table, but for once she wasn't drawing. Instead she squinted at a tiny piece of paper.

“BOO!”

Eleanor shrieked, then stuffed the note into her pocket without folding it up. And she's the kind of person who neatly folds everything first.

“You startled me,” she said.

The boys took off at full speed toward the tall slide.

“What's with you and those notes lately?”

She grinned, but didn't answer, then she studied me up and down.

“What are you looking at?” I asked. “Do I have an icky smudge or a stain?”

“Nope,” she replied, “the opposite. You look great.”

“I do?” I stared down at my old red boots, trying to figure out what she saw that I didn't.

“I was wondering, Ruby—do you want to go over to The Avalanche and get a mocha ripple milkshake?”

“You can't be serious, Eleanor. Do you have any idea how much I have to get done this afternoon?”

I spread my fingers and began counting off my list of plans.

“After the boys wear themselves out on the playground, I need to drag them all over town, starting with Jenny's Jewelry—BTW, they asked about more crocheted flower earring—then I have to take another order for headbands at the Ski and Snowboard Palace; meet Mrs. Wilder over at the Treasure Chest; and finally, check on the macramé bookmarks at Wonderland's Used Books, all before it's pitch dark and Mim arrives home with dinner.”

But instead of commenting on any of that, she said, “I brought an extra banana, if you want one?”

“Sure,” I replied, and peeled it without taking off my gloves.

“You know,” said Eleanor as she fished around in her backpack, “I wish we knew what happened to Madame Magnifique. I feel like I should knit a gift for her, since her readings were free, and so far everything she predicted is coming true.”

“
Ohmygosh
, I've been thinking about that too,” I replied, as I watched Eleanor pull out her box of colored pencils and sketchpad, and set them on the table. “How could she appear one day, then vanish into thin air forever? Maybe she really
is
some kind of fairy
godmother, you know? Like, she only appears when you
really, really
need her?”