Needle and Thread (9 page)

Ruby knew what Mr. Lundy was trying to say. It was just what Flora had said to her after the first day of school — that the starring role might go to an older kid, not a fourth-grader. But Ruby couldn'tpicture herself playing any part other than that of Alice Kendall, the poor, misunderstood, wrongly accused woman. So all Ruby said to Mr. Lundy was, “Okay.”

 

The day of the tryouts, Ruby thought, was surely the longest since school had begun that year. She couldn't pay attention to much of anything Mr. Lundy said, and by the afternoon she found herself seated in a chair right next to him — at his desk, facing the rest of the classroom. “Ruby,” said Mr. Lundy, “you're about two steps away from not being allowed to audition.
Please
pay attention.”

Ruby did so. And when class was finally dismissed, Mr. Lundy said to her, “Good luck, Ruby.”

“Thank you!” Ruby shoved the china crow into her pocket and ran down the hall, as Ava and several other classmates called after her, “Good luck! We hope you get to be the witch!”

The tryouts were to be held in the auditorium. When Ruby arrived, she found Flora and Olivia waiting for her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“We came to watch,” said Flora.

“To cheer you on,” added Olivia. “Are you nervous?”

“Nope.”

“Ruby never gets nervous,” said Flora.

“That's not true.
Sometimes
I get nervous.”

“Hardly ever.”

“Well, don't fight about it,” said Olivia.

“People! People! May I have your attention, please?”

“That's Mrs. Gillipetti,” said Olivia. “I think she's going to be your director.”

“Olivia and I will watch from back here,” said Flora. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Ruby joined a crowd of kids that had gathered around Mrs. Gillipetti in front of the stage. Many of the kids, she noted, were fifth- and sixth- graders.

“Good afternoon. I'm Mrs. Gillipetti,” said the director. “For those of you who don't know me, I teach fifth grade here, and I'm going to direct the play. Please sign in,” she added, holding out a clipboard to be passed around. “Have you all read the script?”

“Yes!”

“I read it four times,” Ruby called out.

“Wonderful,” said Mrs. Gillipetti. “Then you know that there are plenty of roles in the play. There's Alice Kendall, of course, and the people in her family; there's John Parson and his family; and there are all the people who participate in the trial, as well as other people who live in Camden Falls.” She paused and took in the crowd of kids. “I'm sure there will be a part for everyone who is here. Some parts are big, some are small, some are nonspeaking roles, but each part is important to the play.”

Ruby frowned. The part of Alice Kendall, she thought, is surely the most important of all, and much more important than some townsperson who doesn't even get to say anything.

Mrs. Gillipetti picked up a stack of papers and handed them out to the kids. “These are some scenes from the play,” she said. “You'll be reading them this afternoon. If any of you younger children can't read yet,” she went on, looking at two tiny kindergartners, “your parents or older brothers or sisters may help you.

“Please take a few minutes to study the lines. Then I'll ask you to come up on the stage — sometimes one at a time, sometimes in groups — to read for me.”

Ruby shot her hand in the air. “When will we find out what parts we've gotten?”

“Next Monday afternoon,” replied Mrs. Gillipetti.

Ruby swallowed. “Okay.” She felt for the crow in her pocket. Then she sat down in the first row of seats and studied the scenes. “Do we have to memorize the lines now,” she asked Mrs. Gillipetti, “or can we read from the pages?”

“You may read from the pages.”

Ruby was pleased to see that one of the scenes was between Alice Kendall and John Parson. She whispered the lines as she read them and paid no attention whatsoever to the other kids in the auditorium. When she heard Mrs. Gillipetti call her name, she ran onto the stage, pages in hand. “I'm ready,” she said.

“Okay. You'll be reading the first scene with me. Take the part of Alice and I'll be John.”

Ruby drew in a deep breath, threw out her chest, and read her lines at full volume. “So everyone in the back row can hear me,” she informed Mrs. Gillipetti. At the end of the scene, Ruby said, “Could I please act out the death scene for you? The one from the very end of the play?”

“But it isn't on the sheet,” Mrs. Gillipetti said. “And —”

“Okay, then just watch me die.” Ruby clutched at her chest with both hands. “Oh, ohhhhhh,” she moaned. She coughed twice (delicately, so as not to overdo things), staggered, and dropped to the stage. “See?” she said to Mrs. Gillipetti. “It's understated but effective.”

Mrs. Gillipetti pursed her lips, and even from the back row of the auditorium, Flora could tell that she was trying not to smile. “Ruby,” said Mrs. Gillipetti, “answer me this: Can you take direction? Because it's important to be a good actor, but it's just as important to be able to listen to your director.”

Ruby stood up. “I can follow directions,” she said seriously.

“Okay, then. That's fine.”

 

The audition ended two hours later, and Ruby ran to find Flora and Olivia. “Did you see me? Did you see me?” she asked breathlessly.

“You were hard to miss,” said Flora, who then added, “but you did a really good job.”

“Thank you. Oh, boy. How am I ever going to wait until Monday?”

Flora had a feeling it would be a long wait for anyone who knew Ruby.

An autumn afternoon on Main Street, thought Flora, was a very nice thing. She poked along after school on the following Monday, pausing to look in windows and to call hello to the store owners. She was enjoying herself so much that she passed right by Needle and Thread, thinking that Min would hardly care if she was ten minutes late. Flora didn't often have an afternoon all to herself. But Ruby was at school, waiting to find out about the auditions for the play, Nikki had gone home to watch Mae, and Olivia was at her after-school Whiz Kidz class, making volcanoes and doing tricky math puzzles that mystified Flora when Olivia later tried to teach them to her.

Flora sauntered into Ma Grand-mère and studied the array of pumpkin-shaped gingerbread cookies.

“How about a free sample?” asked Lisa, a new kid behind the counter.

“Sure!” said Flora. “Thanks.”

She nibbled the cookie as she peered into the window of Time and Again a few minutes later, noting that a copy of
Understood Betsy
had been added to the display.

She poked her head into the post office and called hello to Jackie and Donna. And then, cookie finished, she made her way back to Needle and Thread.

“Howdy!” called Sonny Sutphin, who had parked his wheelchair in front of the store.

“Hi, Sonny.” Flora wished she had another cookie so she could offer it to him. She remembered the first time she had met Sonny, just a few days after she and Ruby had moved to Camden Falls. Min had made introductions, and then Sonny had wheeled himself away down Main Street. Nothing more had been said about him. Once, weeks later, Flora had asked Min on a warm evening, “Does Sonny live by himself? He's almost always alone.”

Min had replied, “Sonny is a very private person.”

“But what's wrong with him?”

“Well, that's Sonny's business. It has to do with an accident, though.”

Flora had sensed that she shouldn't ask further questions. And she hadn't.

Now she regarded Sonny solemnly and said, “They're giving away sample cookies at Ma Grand-mère.”

Sonny smiled at her. “Thank you for the tip.” He looked down at his twisted feet, then back at Flora. “Where are your cronies today?”

“My cronies?”

“Your buddies. Olivia and Ruby and the other girl.”

“Nikki,” Flora supplied. “They're all busy.”

“You helping out in the store today?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, then. See you later. Say hi to your grandmother for me.”

Flora waved at Sonny as he eased away in the direction of Ma Grand-mère, then let herself into Needle and Thread.

“There you are, sweetie,” called Min. “How was school?”

“Fine.”

“Good. Don't get too comfortable because I have a job for you.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to take a package over to Mary's house.”

“Mary's? Mary
Woolsey's
?” Flora's voice rose to a squeak.

“Yes, to Mary Woolsey's. It will be fine, Flora. And Gigi and I really need you to do this. It will save everyone a lot of time if Mary gets this fabric today.”

Flora felt her heart begin to race and had a feeling she was blushing. She cast about for an excuse — homework, some urgent knitting project — but came up with nothing that couldn't wait until the evening. “Can't Mary come over here and get it herself?”

“She's working. She has a lot to do.”

“Well,” said Flora, but Min was already placing a package in her hands and ushering her out the door.

“You know where Mary's house is, don't you?”

Flora gulped. She knew, all right. It had been one of the first things Olivia had shown her after Flora and Ruby had arrived in Camden Falls. And then Olivia had shared with Flora the tales about buried treasure in Mary's garden, a hapless child hidden in her basement. “Yes,” said Flora, and before she knew it, she was stumbling down Main Street, Mary's package clutched in her sweaty hands.

How could Min do this to her? she thought. Make her go to Scary Mary Woolsey's. Alone. But she had no choice, and presently her feet were leading her to the little house that looked to Flora like a fairy dwelling. It was a different place in the autumn than it had been at the beginning of summer. When Flora had first seen it — the tiny house set among so many gardens that it appeared to be an island rising out of an ocean of flowers — the yard had seemed alive with butterflies and insect noises and the sweet scent of blossoms. Now, on this chilly day, Mary's yard was a quieter place. Flora heard a few stray crickets, but that was all. She saw no butterflies, and the gardens that had been lush in June were now sparer, the colors muted and dull.

Flora paused for a moment at the end of the path that led to Mary's house, wondering briefly where, exactly, a treasure might be buried. Then she walked resolutely along the flagstones and climbed two stone steps. She raised her hand to ring the doorbell and saw that there wasn't one. Instead, there was an old- fashioned knocker in the shape of a lion's head on the door. Flora's mind flashed to the knocker on Scrooge's door in
A Christmas Carol
, the one that had shifted into the ghostly image of the long-dead Marley, and she shivered. She reached for the knocker, but before she could lift it, the door swung open.

There stood Mary Woolsey.

“Hi!” said Flora, her voice coming out as a croak.

“Is that Flora, then?” asked Mary. “Or Ruby?”

“It's me. I mean, I'm Flora.”

Flora held out the package, but instead of taking it, Mary held the door open wider. Flora hesitated, then stepped inside. She listened for the sound of cries coming from the basement but heard only a clock ticking. And her own loud breathing.

I'm in Mary Woolsey's house, she said to herself.
Inside it
. If only Olivia could see me.

Mary closed the door behind Flora and stood watching her.

Flora held the package out farther. “I brought the fabric,” she said. “Min told me you need it today.”

Mary ducked her head. “Yes. I do. Thank you.” At last, she took the package.

Flora turned toward the door, but Mary didn't open it. “Well … your gardens are really nice,” said Flora. “I saw them in the summer.”

“They're not so much to look at now, I know.”

“Oh, I didn't mean that!” cried Flora. “They're still really nice. I saw those flowers with the long name, the ones that smell good. I can't remember —”

“Chrysanthemums,” said Mary. “A reliable autumn flower. If the deer don't get them.”

Flora saw that Mary's hands were shaking and realized that Mary wasn't any more comfortable having a visitor in her house than Flora was being a visitor. Her eyes traveled to Mary's neck, and there was the star necklace. Flora opened her mouth to say “I guess I should go” and instead found herself saying, “I saw an old picture of you.”

“What?” said Mary.

“In a box of stuff in Min's attic. And you were with my mother when she was a little girl. And you were wearing that same necklace,” said Flora in a rush, pointing to the star. “And I was interested because it was my mother, and I didn't know you knew her, and my mother died.” Flora put her hand over her mouth. What was she
say
ing?