The Woman in the Wall (16 page)

"At least F will be with me. He'll give me courage," I thought, and then blushed as I realized that I had spoken aloud.

"No, he won't," said Kirsty.

"Only in the summer," F said. "I'm supposed to live with my mother during the school year."

This was a blow! I dropped my eyes and bit my lip, trying to control the tears that threatened to spill over. Surely I was old enough by now to stop crying all the time.

"Um, we could," F mumbled, not meeting my eyes, "we could write. Letters, you know. Or e-mail. My Dad gave me a computer this year for my birthday. And he has one, so there'd be one in Chicago for you to use. I bet you'd be really good at computers."

"Yes," I agreed, "we could write. I don't know anything about computers, of course, but I'd be happy to learn."

In a way, that was better. We would write letters and tell each other things. This time I could be me, Anna, and not someone else. I could probably send him packages through the mail, too. And then there would be the whole summer together.

It
was
better. To tell you the truth, I don't think I'm ready for the things Kirsty claims that men and women do together. We could be friends for now, until I learned more about this business of being a woman. And then, some day...

"You could write to Andrea, too," I said generously.

F made a funny movement with his shoulders, sort of a combination of a shrug and a shudder.

"I don't think I will," he said, "I'd rather write to you. Anna—" he hesitated and then went on. "I'm sorry I told Andrea who you were. I was just sucking up to her, hoping she'd notice me. I didn't know they'd chase you like that. I guess that must have been pretty scary for you." I nodded fervently, and he said discontentedly, "And then she called me 'this kid' like she didn't even know who I was. I guess it was a shock and all, but still. I don't think I like Andrea as much as I did."

"Oh, Andrea's not bad," I said charitably. "When you get to know her."

"Well, anyway, I'm sorry for being such a creep tonight."

"That's okay," I said.

Mr. Albright, who had been conferring in a huddle with Mother for the past few minutes, approached me cautiously, eyeing me as though I might bite if not handled properly.

"Your mother tells me that you've never attended school," he said. "Can you, uh, read?"

Kirsty snorted.

I nodded.

"Well, that's great!" he said heartily. "Wonderful. But you see, Anna, just knowing how to read isn't enough. You're going to have to get some schooling in. Now, I thought that in the light of your, um, previous history, you might prefer to be tutored at home. We could probably manage a private tutor, if you'd like."

I considered. Mother watched me nervously, remembering the last time we discussed the subject of my education.

"Yes," I said at last. "I think I would like a private tutor at first. But eventually I'd like to go to school like other girls." I snuck a peek at F to see if he was suitably-impressed with my courage. He was.

"If you feel up to it, I suppose that would be all right," said Mr. Albright, sounding worried. "Chicago's a big city. We'll have to find the right school, the right neighborhood."

"Don't worry, Dad," said F. "If Anna says she'll do something, she will."

I smiled complacently.

"Anna," Mother said, "You look tired. It's getting late. And you too, Kirsty, aren't you tired?"

"No, not at all," she said, through a huge yawn.

"Come on, girls, to bed," Mother said. "Oh! I wonder—I hope there are sheets on Anna's old bed. Let's go have a look. Kirsty! Bed time."

"Oh, okay," Kirsty said crossly. "Let's go, Anna."

At the door I stopped and looked back at Mr. Albright.

"Uh, yes?" he inquired.

"About those dress shirts—" I began, but Kirsty grabbed me by the wrist again and pulled.

"Come
on,
Anna!"

And that really
is
all there is to tell. So far, anyway.