Jubilee (3 page)

I
woke to hear Aunt Cora calling, “Everything's laid out for you, Jubilee.”

I opened my eyes. Next to me, on the bed, Dog stretched. Yesterday afternoon, we'd walked into the kitchen together, and Aunt Cora had knelt on the floor to pat him. “Yes,” she said. “I should have known we needed a dog.”

I drew the man on the boat for her, and her eyes widened. “Who could do such a thing!” she said, rubbing Dog's ears.

She filled a bowl with leftover meat loaf and we watched while Dog scarfed it up. He was hungry, starving. If only I had known that!

But now, this morning, I looked at the clothes on my dresser: new jeans and a purple shirt with matching hair clips.

I climbed out of bed and knelt on the floor next to Dog. His tail wagged; he was happy. How could he know this was a sad day for me?

I dressed and grabbed my cartoon pad.
You'll be fine,
I told myself.

That's almost what Aunt Cora said as she put a plate of pancakes with blueberry smiles in front of me. “You'll be amazing, Jubilee.” She leaned forward, smelling like the roses in her garden. “It's just today. You'll have the whole weekend before it begins again. A huge scoop of time.”

Dog came into the kitchen, and Aunt Cora bent down to pet him. “A perfect dog, a perfect pet,” she said. She stood and dropped two more blueberries on my plate. “Two wishes.”

I held up two fingers, reached for my pad, and drew a dripping wet boy with a turned-down mouth and nasty eyes. I put an X right down the middle of him.

“A mean boy?” Aunt Cora guessed.

I picked up my spoon and dripped a perfect blob of maple syrup over his head to make her grin.

Aunt Cora was waiting, so I drew in a fat fish with googly eyes. “Ah, fishing,” she said. “I wish we could do that today.”

She popped a blueberry into her mouth. “My wishes: A new kitchen floor. A motorcycle.”

I grinned. I couldn't imagine Aunt Cora riding a motorcycle. Maybe she had secret wishes too. But she went on. “I'd like to be fast instead of slow, instead of thinking things over. I'd race around the island—” She broke off, both of us laughing now.

After breakfast, I tucked my pad in my pocket and searched the closet for a plaid blanket I'd had when I was little. It would be fine for Dog today. I put it in my backpack with a bottle of water and a plastic bowl.

“You'll love your new class,” Aunt Cora called after me. “Wait and see.”

I wasn't great at waiting. But I pictured Ms. Quirk, and the yellow
WELCOME
on the board. Maybe it would work out.

From the window, I saw Mason trudging toward the top of the island, away from school. Toward Ivy Cottage? I bit my lip. There was nothing I could do about it.

Back in the hall Aunt Cora smoothed down my hair and held out a lunch bag with a salami sandwich, my favorite. “And a peach to keep you sweet!”

I reached up and kissed her soft cheek.

She hesitated. “I could walk you halfway.”

I shook my head. I was all right. I took the back way past Sophie's house to reach the maple tree on the side of the school.

I spread the small blanket under the lowest branch of the tree. Dog was amazing. He knew just what to do. He circled around until his tail met his nose and closed his eyes. I left a bowl of water beside him.

Maybe I'd see him from the classroom. It was the best I could do.

Inside, kids slammed doors and ran down the hall; some of them went into Room Fourteen. But I walked toward the classroom like a snail and went inside.

“I'm happy to see you,” Ms. Quirk said, and I nodded, going to stand against the side wall.

Where was Sophie?

“Glad you're here too,” the teacher told Harry.

“Yeah.” He looked as if he wanted to be anywhere else.

Ms. Quirk had written our names out on cards, one on each desk. “Look for yours. That will be your space.”

I found my name on a desk near the window. I could even see Dog under the maple tree.

Mason came in at last, out of breath. He had the face of the bait-selling man on the wharf who was mean and miserable and didn't mind selling those poor little killies that were headed for a nasty end in the mouths of some large fish.

He slid into the seat next to me, his shirt filled with crumbs. He kicked against the rungs of his desk. On the front of one sneaker was an inked-in
JW,
his brother Jerry's initials.

He was skinny as a spider, with knobby knees. But I didn't bother to take another look at his bait-man face, or his crumb-y shirt.

Ms. Quirk perched herself on the edge of a table, her arms out as if she wanted to hug all of us. “This is my first year of teaching, and the first year on an island. We'll make it a year of firsts.” Clink went the bangles on her wrists.

If I could have a year of firsts, I'd see my mother. Sophie and I would be friends again. I'd speak!

Every time I saw him, Mr. Kaufmann always said, “Everything is right around the corner, Judith. You just have to make it happen.”

But how?

T
he sky was sunny blue, a great no-school day. But Ms. Quirk wasn't thinking about the sky. “Pull up your chairs,” she said. “We'll get to know each other.”

Kids dragged their chairs to the front, almost like a cattle stampede.

Harry and Conor weren't interested in getting to know each other. They played pencil hockey at their desks. “Peshuum!” Conor yelled and erasers blasted across the room.

One almost hit Mason, who was staring out the window.

What would he do?

But he just grinned at them.

That was strange for a boy who'd thrown a ball trying to take off my head!

It was even noisier in the classroom now. Up front, Maddie was telling her life story. Everyone else was whispering. It was a boring life story.

If I went out the open door, no one would even notice I was gone. I'd take a quick walk down the hall, run outside to see if Dog was all right, and be back by the time Maddie had gotten up to her life in kindergarten.

I tiptoed around the side of the room, staring at the thick white tiles underneath my feet. In the hall, everything was quiet, almost like the empty school in the summertime.

Halfway down was a big window. Usually it was dusty with dried-up raindrops. But Ciro, the custodian, had washed it so it sparkled. I had to stay away from him. If he saw me, he'd send me straight back to Room Fourteen, talking about how important learning was.

I leaned closer to the window and saw Dog sleeping. Then I spotted Sophie walking Travis across the yard. He was crying, rubbing his eyes. “I don't want to go to school!” His legs churned, kicking everything in his way.

And Sophie was in his way. “That hurt, Travis.” She bent to rub her knee.

“Travis is not easy to handle,” Aunt Cora's friend Mary said the other day. “Especially when his poor mother works nights as a nurse in a hospital on the mainland. She needs a couple of hours of sleep during the day to keep herself going, for pity's sake.”

I remembered crying at night for my mother. Aunt Cora had sat at the side of the bed, weighing it down a little, humming, holding my hands with her large warm ones.

Travis needed an Aunt Cora.

The hall wasn't empty anymore. Sophie had gotten Travis as far as the kindergarten door. He was holding on to the molding, shaking his head.

“You have to go in, Travis.” She sounded desperate. “You're making us both late.”

If I could go over to him, I'd put my hands on his shoulders. I'd rock him back and forth until he was peaceful. I knew what was wrong. Travis wanted to be a big boy, but school was too much for him. I remembered that: the huge school, all those new faces. And everyone seemed to know what they were doing, except me.

I went forward. Travis turned to me, but Sophie pulled him behind her. I had a quick memory of Jenna asking her,
How can you be friends with a weirdo?

I stepped away, my hands up to let her know that I'd just wanted to help.

“Nobody wants you,” she said in a voice so low I barely heard. But tears flooded my eyes. I backed down the hall and put my hand on the outside door.

Windy Hill
, I told myself. I'd look down at the shimmering sea with the white foam breakers, and watch the egret and herons that swooped over the pond.

I pushed open the door. Outside, I swiped at my eyes and ran across the schoolyard, stopping to run my hand over Dog's head.

He jumped up to follow me. We went through the gate and up the dirt road.

No one had seen me. No one knew I was gone yet. I'd sit on the steps at Ivy Cottage and draw. I'd try not to think about what Sophie had said.
Nobody wants you.