Just One More Read online

  She sat up and listened carefully. The house was silent. If Jerry had come home last night, he was asleep. “No surprises,” she murmured. “No spider. No Jerry. It’s safe.”

  She needed to be quiet. Bothering Jerry when he had a hangover was never a good idea. Her stomach growled loudly. She stood up, surprised to feel the room sway. Harriet steadied herself against the nightstand and waited for her stomach and the room to steady.

  She wondered about the time. Without electricity, the clocks weren’t working. In the hall, the light was brighter. With one hand on the wall, Harriet made her way to the bathroom. She flipped the switch. Nothing happened. “Damn,” she muttered. “The lights are still off.” She splashed her face with ice-cold water and considered her situation.

  She needed to get to school in time for the free breakfast. Her stomach erupted again in agreement. If she arrived in time, she might be able to sneak in and get something to eat. Her mom hadn’t signed her up for the program, and she had no ticket, but with any luck the lunch lady would be too busy to notice one more kid.

  Harriet contemplated her clothes. Everything looked dirty. The jeans would do. The torn sneakers were her only shoes, but she needed to find a clean top of some sort. She had worn her own clothes multiple times. It had been weeks since anyone gave her money for the laundromat. “I need a shower,” she said aloud. Her voice echoed in the small room. With nothing but ice-cold water, the idea of washing more than her face was not appealing. “Perhaps, Jerry really will get the gas and lights turned back on today.” She nodded to herself. “I’ll shower tonight.”

  Harriet opened her mother’s closet. She’d done this a million times and knew there was nothing she could wear to school. The shoes were all spiky heels, and the dresses were covered in sparkles and beads. The dresser drawers held nothing but bras and panties. A robe hung behind the door. “I need a clean T-shirt,” she said, and left the room, carefully closing the door behind herself. There was nothing clean in her room, and she was afraid to check in Jerry’s.

  “I’ll just brush my hair and wear my red sweater again.” She picked up the sweater and sniffed it. Not bad. The stain on the front didn’t appear too noticeable. She pulled it on, found her hairbrush, and tried to draw it through her thick, curly hair. The brush caught and pulled in the snarls. Her hair was tough on a good day when she’d washed it and used conditioner. This was not a good day. Harriet divided her hair with her fingers and managed to twist it into two loose braids.

  She grabbed her backpack and hurried downstairs, more worried now that she’d miss the free breakfast. Her stomach let out a loud growl as if to remind her to hurry. Jerry’s navy-blue hoodie hung from the newel post. It would cover the stain on her sweater. Harriet snatched it and ran toward the school.

  ***

  “Aw, here comes, Stinky.” Toby pointed. His friends laughed and held their noses as Harriet approached. “Pee-ew,” Toby said loudly. “Something smells awful.” His friends hooted and took exaggerated sniffs.

  “Smells like something died.”

  “Nah, I think it’s a skunk fart.”

  Harriet kept her expression blank and pretended not to understand that they were making fun of her. Imbecile, she thought. I-M-B-E-C-I-L-E, a stupid person.

  “Hey, Stinky,” Toby caught Harriet’s arm. “I’m talking to you.”

  Harriet shook his hand off. The world grew dark and began to spin. Toby’s voice faded away. She fell to the ground. Toby ran.

  “Miss Blimm, what is going on here?”

  Mr. Comstock’s voice came from a distance. Harriet struggled to focus.

  “Are you hurt? You need to get up.”

  Harriet opened her eyes. The world spun again. She closed them. I’ll just stay here, she thought.

  “Harriet, Harriet. Can you hear me?” Mr. Comstock sounded irritated.

  How strange, Harriet thought. She opened her eyes again and tried to focus. “I’m okay,” she managed.

  “What happened?” Mr. Comstock demanded, his fear replaced by irritation.

  Miss Charles knelt down beside Harriet. She placed her cool, soft hand on Harriet’s forehead. “Hi, Harriet.” She smiled directly at her. “Mr. Comstock, I’ll take care of this. Why don’t you move the rest of the students along to class? The bell will ring any second.”

  Harriet stayed quiet. She kept her eyes closed until the schoolyard grew still. Miss Charles waited, one hand on Harriet’s arm. At last, she said, “Do you think you can sit up now, Harriet?”

  Harriet’s stomach let out a massive growl. She placed her hand over it, hoping she could keep Miss Charles from hearing. She opened her eyes and managed to nod. “I think so.” Miss Charles slid her arm around Harriet and helped her to a sitting position. Harriet stiffened. She knew Toby was right; she did stink. The world tilted again. She trembled.

  “It’s okay, Harriet. Just go slow.”

  Harriet sat, her knees drawn up to her chest, her head bent down. Her stomach rumbled again.

  “Can you stay right here, Harriet? Everyone else is gone. I want to get you something.”

  Harriet nodded without lifting her head. Miss Charles patted her back as she rose to her feet.

  “I’ll be right back. It’ll only take a minute.”

  Harriet sat huddled in the middle of the concrete yard. An empty McDonald’s bag blew across her feet and she caught the aroma of french fries. A crow cawed from the roof and flew down to land not far away. It cocked its head and hopped closer. Harriet watched. Footsteps approached. The crow cawed again and flew off.

  She turned her head and opened her eyes. Miss Charles smiled and handed her a can of V-8 juice. “I hope this is okay. The vending machine was out of everything else.” Harriet nodded. “Sip it slowly. I think you fainted.”

  The V-8 was the best thing Harriet had ever tasted. She wanted to gulp it down and ask for more.

  “Harriet,” Miss Charles asked, “did you forget to eat breakfast this morning?”

  Forget, F-O-R-G-E-T, fail to remember. “Not exactly,” Harriet said, drinking the last of the juice.

  Miss Charles thought a moment, then said, “Harriet, do you think I should call your mother so that you can go home?”

  Harriet shook her head. “No, my mom’s at work. I just need to go to class. I’ll be alright.” Her stomach made that horrible sound again. She sat up straighter, then stood. “Thank you for the juice.”

  “You’re welcome, Harriet.” Miss Charles studied her for a long moment. “I think before you go to class, you need to get cleaned up.” Harriet blushed, but Miss Charles ignored her and continued, “You fell on the dirty pavement and you’ve torn your jeans. I’ll get a key for the teachers’ shower room. I can borrow some clothes for you from the lost and found. Would that be okay?”

  ***

  The hot water gushed over Harriet. As she stood, face lifted and head thrown back, the tension eased from her body. She leaned her back against the wall, dizzy and afraid she might fall again. She scrubbed her hair and every inch of her skin. Feeling clean at last, she turned off the water and wrapped herself, and her hair, in the towels Miss Charles had provided.

  Harriet found clean underwear, jeans, and a bright T-shirt emblazoned with a unicorn prancing under a rainbow folded on the bench. A pair of sandals and Jerry’s hoodie completed the ensemble. Ensemble, she thought, E-N-S-E-M-B-L-E, a group of items viewed as a whole instead of individually. Harriet moved to the mirror and combed her fingers through her wet hair. It was already starting to tangle and curl.

  A tap sounded on the door. “May I come in?”

  “Okay.”

  “If you sit down on the bench, I can help you with your hair,” Miss Charles said. “I don’t have a brush but I do have this big comb.” She waved a large, broad-tooth comb. “Do you want a ponytail, braids, or just to let it hang loose?”

  Harriet considered the options. “Mama likes me to wear it loose.”

  “Okay, loose it is.”

&nbs
p; Miss Charles stood behind Harriet and carefully worked the comb through her wet hair. When she hit a snarl, she slowly and patiently separated the knots. Harriet relaxed and allowed herself to daydream. Maybe, she thought, mama will come home today.

  “There.” Miss Charles’s satisfied tap on her shoulder brought Harriet back to the present. “You look very pretty.”

  Harriet considered herself in the mirror. I do look better than usual, she conceded, but not pretty. “Thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure.” Miss Charles tucked the comb in her jacket pocket.

  Harriet’s stomach roared again.

  Miss Charles laughed. “Come on. Let’s get you some food.”

  ***

  Harriet gazed out the classroom window. The crows looped across the sky, chasing one another in what looked like a game. Corvus, C-O-R-V-U-S, genus composed of crows, ravens, and rooks. She smiled slightly. Everything seemed better now that she was wearing clean clothes and had a full stomach.

  “Harriet.” The teacher’s voice pulled her out of her daydream. “Please, calculate the mean of the numbers Toby has written on the board.”

  Toby looked over his shoulder and smirked. Harriet avoided his gaze and answered carefully. “Three plus four equals seven, plus nine equals sixteen, plus seven equals twenty-three, divided by four equals five-point-seven-five. The mean is five-point-seven-five.”

  “Excellent, Harriet.”

  “That was an easy one,” Toby declared. “Bet she can’t do this one.” He sprawled numbers on the board: 123, 76, 1167, 894, 5, 109.

  “Toby, since you like a challenge,” the teacher said, “see if you can find the mean.”

  “But…” Toby protested.

  “But, nothing. You may show your work.”

  Toby screeched the pen across the whiteboard.

  “Three hundred seventy-seven-point-one-seven,” Harriet murmured, and looked out the window again. The crows were gone.

  ***

  At last the dismissal bell rang. Harriet lingered by her desk. Toby had been whispering with his friends and she was sure he was planning to do or say something mean. Her teacher noticed the loitering and asked, “Do you need something, Harriet?”

  Harriet shook her head no, adjusted her heavy backpack and joined the other students in the hall. She dawdled, keeping an eye out for trouble. When she did not catch sight of Toby or his cronies, she pulled the heavy schoolhouse door open and stepped outside.

  The wind whipped the fallen leaves into a frenzy of color. Harriet noted the whirlwind and reached out to snatch a brilliant red oak leaf.

  “What you gonna do with that, Hairy Fairy?” Toby taunted.

  Harriet dropped the leaf. She’d thought it would be a nice present for her mother, if she came home tonight. But now, it just seemed stupid to believe that her mom might appear.

  “If you’re so smart, what’s a million times a million?” Toby demanded.

  She wished she could ignore him, but it was such an easy question. Harriet narrowed her eyes and said, “A trillion.”

  Toby considered the answer. He tapped his fingers together as if to count. “Yeah,” he drawled, “everybody knows that.”

  “Bet you didn’t,” Harriet said

  “You calling me stupid?”

  “If the shoe fits.” Harriet grinned.

  “Get her, Toby,” someone yelled.

  Harriet froze. Toby reached out and grabbed her arm. She shoved his hand away. Toby raised his fist.

  “Toby Meyers!” Miss Charles’s voice rang out. “You are not about to hit Harriet, are you?”

  “No, Mam.” Toby shuffled backwards. “I was just going to pick a leaf out of her hair.”

  “I doubt that. You boys get on home now.”

  Toby murmured, “Tomorrow, Hairy Fairy,” as he turned away.

  Harriet shot him the stink eye and turned to face Miss Charles.

  “I have something for you, Harriet. Could you come back to my office for a moment, please?”

  Harriet nodded and counted backwards from one hundred. One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight… She hoped she wasn’t in trouble.

  “It’ll only take a moment. If you need to call home and tell them you’ll be late, you can use my phone.”

  Harriet shook her head. “It’ll be fine.” As if anyone cares when I get home, she thought.

  Miss Charles turned and walked toward the school. Harriet followed. In the counselor’s office, she sat perched on the edge of the visitor chair holding her backpack on her lap to conceal her shaking legs.

  Miss Charles sat next to her instead of behind the desk. She smiled gently at Harriet and adjusted her skirt to cover her knees. She folded her hands and waited.

  Harriet held her breath. One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight…

  “Harriet,” Miss Charles laid her hand on Harriet’s arm. “Look at me, please.”

  Harriet forced herself to make eye contact. She allowed her eyes to open wide, tilted her head down, and smiled slightly, exactly the way Mama had taught her to gaze at the man in the store when they didn’t have enough money to pay for what they needed.

  “Is everything all right at home? I can help you if there is a problem,” she hesitated, “of any sort.”

  “I’m sorry my clothes were dirty today, Miss.” Harriet let her eyes fill with tears. “The washing machine’s broken and Mama has to wait for payday to get it fixed.”

  “I understand, Harriet.” Miss Charles stood, then moved to her desk. She picked up a neatly folded pile of clothing. “I washed your clothes and added a few things from the lost and found. Put these in your backpack.”

  Now tears gathered for real. Harriet didn’t want to admit how much she needed the clean clothes. “Jerry says we can’t take charity.”

  “It’s not charity, Harriet. These are your clothes, and you can return the extra things when the washer gets fixed.”

  Harriet squinted her eyes, and bit her lip, as she considered the offer. Jerry had told her that people who give you something for nothing want something, but she couldn’t see that Miss Charles wanted anything. “It might be a long time,” Harriet hedged.

  “That’s okay.” Miss Charles picked up a paperweight from her desk and studied the flower trapped inside. “This is just between you and me, Harriet. If you drop your dirty clothes in my office, I’ll wash them for you until your washer is working.”

  “Every day?”

  “Yes, every day. I’ll take them home with me and bring them back the next day. This time I used the washer here at school, but I suppose it would be better to take your laundry home with me.”

  Harriet stayed quiet. Jerry would be mad if he found out. But, she reasoned, he never looks in my backpack. “Okay.” She nodded. “Just until Mama gets the washer fixed.” She stuffed the clothes into her pack.

  “One more thing: I have some school cafeteria breakfast and lunch tickets. I want you to take them. They will just be wasted here in my desk drawer.” She opened the drawer and withdrew an envelope.

  Harriet shook her head.

  Miss Charles thrust the envelope into the outer pocket of the pack. “You need to eat, Harriet. Every day.” She laid her hand on Harriet’s hair. “I didn’t tell anyone that you fainted from hunger this morning and I won’t, as long as I see you eating breakfast and lunch every day.”

  Harriet studied the counselor.

  “Harriet, you are a smart girl with a lot of potential. I understand that things are hard at home, but it will get better.”

  Tears threatened again. Harriet blinked and forced them away.

  “You may go now, Harriet.”

  Harriet turned to the door and twisted the knob. She looked over her shoulder and mumbled a thank you.

  “If you ever need help, remember you can tell me.”

  Harriet stumbled out the door and hurried down the hall. Miss Charles moved to the window and watched as she exited the building and ran out of the schoolyard.

  ***
/>
  “Where have you been, brat?” Jerry greeted her from the living room. “You do something bad and have to stay after school?”

  “No, sir.” Harriet started up the stairs.

  “The kitchen’s a pigsty. Get it cleaned up.”

  “Yes, sir.” Harriet took another step. “I was waiting for the hot water to come back.”

  “Don’t talk back to me. There’s plenty of hot water.”

  Harriet could smell his rank beer breath and recognized his mood. She decided not to argue. “I’ll just put my homework upstairs and be right back.”

  Jerry mumbled something. Harriet didn’t wait to hear more. She ran up the stairs and glanced toward her mother’s room; the door was still closed. Harriet went into her bedroom, dropped her backpack on the bed, and ran downstairs. In the kitchen, she turned on the tap. Hot water gushed out. She squirted soap over the pile of dishes and opened the refrigerator while waiting for the sink to fill.

  Maybe if he’s paid the bill, he bought food, she thought. No such luck. A six-pack and two loose cans of beer sat on the shelf. Nothing else. The refrigerator light was still out. She flipped the switch for the overhead light and smiled her satisfaction when it came on. Waiting for Mama to come home wasn’t as scary when there was hot water, heat, and light.

  She pushed up the sleeves of her hoodie and plunged her hands into the bubbles.

  ***

  Jerry came into the kitchen. Harriet heard him and squeezed her shoulders together. She kept her back to him and continued to scrub the cast-iron fry pan. Adumbrate, A-D-U-M-B-R-A-T-E, to darken or conceal partially, she spelled silently.

  Please, let him take a beer from the refrigerator and ignore me, she prayed. The refrigerator door opened and closed. He’ll be gone in a minute. Her hands kept moving.

  “What the fuck!” Jerry grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. “What are you doing wearing my hoodie, you little creep.” He let go of her shoulder and clenched his fist. His arm lifted.

  Harriet reacted. She swung the frying pan and connected with his uplifted arm. Jerry screamed and lost his grip on her shoulder as he clenched his arm.