The Other Child Read online

  “You can be up first because you’re new,” Taffy decided, nodding at the rest of the girls. “Give her a nice, easy grounder, Susie. My dad said to make sure she had a good time.”

  The ball came toward her before she was ready and Leslie kicked too late, missing it entirely. A couple of the girls tittered and Leslie blushed painfully. This was harder than it looked. Next time she’d make sure to get it right.

  Leslie missed the second pitch, too, catching it with her knee for a foul ball. Taffy groaned and rolled her eyes heavenward in exasperation. The redhead’s petulant sigh made Leslie even more determined. She had one pitch left and she was going to kick that red rubber ball all the way out of the vacant lot. They’d never let her play again if she kept on missing.

  Leslie’s toe hit the third pitch hard and the ball soared over Susie’s head. It bounced crazily on a rock and two girls chased after it as Leslie streaked toward first base. She was just rounding second when she saw Bud Allen heading toward the tree where her camera was stashed. She stopped midway between second and third, not sure what to do. He wouldn’t take it, would he? Should she run over to make sure?

  “Go, Leslie, go!” Taffy shouted, spurring her into action. She had to run around the bases if she wanted to score, and Leslie really wanted to show these girls that she could play their silly game right.

  Another squeal from Taffy made Leslie run as if demons were chasing her, past third and straight toward home base. As she crossed the square drawn in the dirt for home, she heard Taffy’s happy shouts.

  “A home run! Didn’t I tell you? Leslie’s a natural. That’s beginner’s luck if I ever saw it. Good for you, Leslie!”

  Leslie laughed and panted as Taffy pounded her on the back. The girls on Taffy’s side jumped up and down and cheered. This wasn’t a silly game after all. It was fun and she’d scored. Now these girls were bound to like her.

  Leslie remembered her camera and she stood on tiptoe to look over Taffy’s shoulder. In a split second her exaltation turned to alarm as she discovered Bud had her Leica.

  “Hey! Look what I found!” Bud grabbed the camera and hung it around his neck. It swung wildly as he yelled at them. “Finders, keepers! Right, guys?”

  “He’s got my camera!” Leslie gasped. “Oh, help me get it back, Taffy! He’ll break it!”

  Taffy shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. He’s just teasing us. He does things like this all the time. When he’s through clowning around, he’ll give it back.”

  “But . . .” Leslie struggled to explain. “You don’t understand, Taffy. Mike made me promise I wouldn’t let anyone touch it. It’s really expensive. Please help me get it back!”

  “We’ll have to stop the game.” Taffy sighed in irritation. “Don’t make such a fuss, Leslie. I’ll call time-out.”

  Taffy shouted at the girls and they came in from the field. She stared at Leslie’s worried face for a moment and then she sighed again. She’d have to get that stupid camera back somehow. If her dad heard about this, he’d have a fit. He’d given her strict orders to take care of Leslie.

  “Come on, Bud—the fun’s over!” Taffy called out in a loud voice. “Bring that camera over here and give it back to Leslie.”

  Bud made a face. “I found it and I’m going to keep it!” he hollered back. “I’ll take a nice picture of you girls if you hold still.”

  “He’s taking pictures!” Leslie’s voice was shocked. “He’s going to ruin my film, Taffy!”

  “Oh, all right.” Taffy was resigned. “I’ll get your camera back for you if you’re that freaked.”

  Taffy took off running while Bud was squinting through the viewfinder. He didn’t realize she was there until she jumped on him, knocking him to the ground. They rolled over and over as Leslie watched, horrified. Her Leica was going to get broken it they kept on wrestling in the dirt.

  “Ouch! All right . . . All right! Take the stupid camera!”

  Bud pulled away from Taffy and she grabbed at the camera. There was an audible snap as the strap broke. Bud stood glaring at Taffy, with his hands on his hips. He was breathing hard through his mouth. His face was red and he looked mad enough to grab Taffy and break her in little pieces. There was a long bleeding scratch on the inside of his arm and he winced as he touched it.

  “Somebody ought to lock you up in a cage or something!” he shouted, waving his fist in the air as Taffy backed off a couple of steps. “Come on, guys. Let’s go somewhere more peaceful, and play by ourselves, away from these dumb girls.”

  Taffy picked up the Leica and dusted it off as best she could. Her face was bitter with disappointment as she carried it back to Leslie. She handed it over, grimacing.

  “Now look what you did!” she hissed. “If you’d just waited until he had his fun, everything would be fine. Now all the boys are leaving!”

  The girls stood like wooden statues, watching the boys swagger from the vacant lot. Then a heavy silence followed and they turned to stare at Leslie resentfully.

  Leslie drew her breath in sharply. For some reason they were all mad at her! She hadn’t done anything wrong. They were all mad at her because the boys had left.

  Taffy shifted and sighed morosely. “I’ve had it,” she declared. “I’m going home to take a bath. Wrestling Bud for that stupid camera got me all dirty.”

  In groups of twos and threes the girls walked off, leaving Leslie standing alone at home plate. Even though she didn’t understand how she was at fault, they were all mad at her. Not one girl stopped to say good-bye.

  Leslie looked down at her camera and blinked hard. The case was scratched and the leather strap dangled uselessly from one ring. She had taken such good care of it and now it was all dirty and scratched. It might even be broken. What was Mike going to say?

  She cradled the Leica protectively against her chest and walked slowly to the street. It was a mistake, trying to be friends with these kids. They were mean, blaming her for something that wasn’t her fault, and she wouldn’t play with them again, even if her mother insisted. She’d be better off staying home, with no friends at all.

  They were sitting at the kitchen table when she got home. Leslie came in haltingly, carrying her wounded camera.

  “I think my Leica’s broken,” she admitted in a small voice. “Bud Allen had it and he and Taffy were wrestling. I think they broke it, Mike.”

  Mike groaned as he saw the scratched case. “What was Bud Allen doing with your camera? I told you not to let anyone else use it.”

  “I didn’t!” Leslie protested. “I was playing kickball and Taffy said to leave it by the tree. Bud stole it and Taffy had to fight him to get it back. Then Bud got mad because Taffy scratched him and all the boys left. Now the girls are mad at me and I didn’t do anything!”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Karen said soothingly, pulling Leslie close. “They won’t stay mad for long, honey, you just wait and see. They’ll forget all about it by tomorrow.”

  Mike shook his head and sighed deeply as he turned the Leica over in his hands. “If you’d left it at home, this never would have happened. Do you realize this is a five-hundred-dollar camera, Leslie? Let’s just hope I can fix it and that the lens is intact. If I have to send it out for repairs, it won’t be back for months.”

  “I’m sorry, Mike.” Leslie’s face clouded over and tears rose in her eyes. “I guess it was stupid, taking it along. I just thought I might come across a one-of-a-kind picture, something special.”

  One look at Leslie and Mike relented. The broken camera was clearly an accident and he could tell she was miserable about it.

  “Hey. I broke a couple of cameras that way myself when I was a kid,” Mike admitted. “Come on, now, cheer up, honey. I’ll take it up to the darkroom tonight and see what I can do. Maybe it’s not as bad as it looks.”

  “I’m glad you’re home early anyway, kitten.” Karen put on a wide smile for her daughter’s benefit. “I need a nice big bouquet for the table. Do you think you could wade throu
gh that tangled garden out there and cut some roses for me?”

  “Sure, Mom.” Leslie’s face cleared immediately. She gave both of them a relieved look and hurried out the kitchen door. Mike wasn’t mad after all. And he said he’d fix her camera if he could. Everything was going to be all right, but she still wouldn’t play with these Cold Spring kids ever again. They were too mean.

  Karen waited until the door closed before she spoke. “Taffy’s friends don’t sound very nice. I don’t understand why they were all so upset with Leslie. It certainly wasn’t her fault the boys left.”

  Mike shrugged. “I remember when I was the new kid in town.” He pulled up a chair and sat down next to Karen. “The new kid’s always the outsider for a little while, honey. Just don’t get too worried about it. If Leslie keeps trying, they’ll accept her eventually.”

  “But it’s not fair!” Karen’s voice rose with emotion. “Leslie’s always made friends so easily. Why is it so different here?”

  “It’s a small town—the kids have been together since they were born. And maybe it’s not as bad as Leslie’s making out. The girls’ll come around soon enough. I’m sure it’ll all work out if we give it some time. A year from now when kids are swarming all over this place, you’ll wish Leslie had fewer friends hanging around.”

  Karen sighed. She supposed Mike was right and she should give Leslie time to adjust on her own. These children were bound to like her if they gave her half a chance. She’d encourage Leslie to go right out again tomorrow and try to make friends.

  Later on Leslie was in the cupola, snuggled down in the pillows that lined the small, windowed room. She had asked to come up here and read, but all she really wanted to do was rest, safe in her own little room, for the remainder of the afternoon. Her eyes were heavy and she let them close for just a minute.

  It was twilight and she was floating down a huge tunnel, suspended in a fog. Spinning around and upside down, she bumped against the walls of the tunnel, but she wasn’t hurt. At the end of the passage, she saw a bright light and tried to navigate toward it. She moved her arms and legs desperately, making swimming motions through the grayness, but instead of going forward toward the cheerful light, she was being pulled back into the deepest, darkest part of the tunnel. Someone was gripping her arm, pulling her deeper and deeper into the frightening blackness.

  She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t. Now she was hurtling backward, her hair streaming out in front of her, whipping against her face. She opened her mouth and tried to cry out, but her voice didn’t work. She struggled and kicked, but that made her fly backward into the black part of the tunnel, faster and faster. She came to a halt, and suddenly she saw him, a small dim shape in the darkness. She blinked, but he was still not clear, not in focus.

  Leslie. She sensed he was smiling. I knew you’d come if I waited long enough.

  Now the grasping hands were gone and she settled down to rest against a cold, damp wall. She seemed to be in a small earthen box. For one heart-stopping moment Leslie thought she was in a grave; but as she opened her mouth to scream, she realized the space was lined with jars and shelves. It was a small cellar of some sort, under the ground. The cold chilled her skin.

  You’re doing fine, Leslie, the boy said. Don’t let them fool you. They’re wicked, just like they were before. I’m your only real friend.

  Somehow, Leslie knew he spoke the truth. She tried to find her voice to ask his name, but the boy seemed to hear her without asking.

  I’m Christopher, he said, holding out his hand. Come closer, Leslie. You don’t have to be afraid.

  She held out her hand to him. As his fingers touched hers, she felt warmth and a pleasant tingle, but it was different from shaking hands with anyone else. She couldn’t feel his fingers at all. It was like trying to shake hands with the sun or a warm breeze.

  Now we’re friends, he said, dropping her hand. Friends help each other, Leslie. I’ll help you if you help me.

  He smiled as she nodded and again he answered her unspoken question. You can help me by finding the key. It’s outside in the yard. If you look carefully, you’ll find it.

  She dipped her head in a nod. She would find it. She wanted to help her new friend, Christopher.

  He was smiling and speaking her name and his voice was soft. Now she could feel his fingers on her arm. Leslie, he said, his voice as soft as a kiss. Leslie . . . Leslie . . . Leslie?

  She blinked and the bright sunlight startled her. The tunnel was gone and the dark chamber with it. She was in the cupola, with the sun streaming in the west windows, but his voice was still calling her name. The fog of sleep lifted from her mind. It was her mother’s voice.

  “Leslie? Wake up, kitten. Wash your hands and face, honey. It’s almost time for dinner.”

  “Oh!” Leslie sighed, blinking and stretching. “Hi, Mom! I must have fallen asleep up here. I had a funny dream . . . all about a boy named Christopher.”

  “Christopher?” Karen smiled. “Is there a Christopher here in town?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” Leslie thought for a moment. “I haven’t met anybody named Christopher . . . yet. Maybe I had one of those dreams people are always talking about. A dream that tells the future.”

  “A prophetic dream?” Karen’s smile widened. “Well . . . you’ll just have to wait and see. You can tell me all about it later. Right now I have to hurry and get dinner on the table. Mike wants to do some more work on the darkroom tonight.”

  “I’ll be right down, Mom.” Leslie stood up, yawning. She hadn’t had a chance to tell her too much about the dream. Actually, her mom was very sensible, as most moms are. Leslie would bet she didn’t believe in voices in the wind, or boys calling out to her in dreams. Leslie was sure she wouldn’t really understand. But the first thing tomorrow, she was going out in the yard to look for that key. If she found it, then she’d know the dream had been real. That boy Christopher would be grateful to her for helping him, and then he’d be her friend. He’d be a much better friend than any of the kids in Cold Spring, and she wouldn’t be alone any longer.

  But as Leslie wiped the sleep from her eyes, she began to doubt that there was a dark, earthen room, and a boy waiting there for her. How silly the whole thing was. Of course there wasn’t really a boy named Christopher, waiting somewhere for her to find the key. She didn’t seriously believe that dreams come true exactly the way you dreamed them. There might be a key in the yard, though, and it was possible that there was a boy named Christopher in Cold Spring somewhere. Anything was possible. In any event it wouldn’t hurt to look around for an old key. It would give her something to look forward to, something fun to do tomorrow. She’d be so busy looking for the key that she’d forget all about the kickball game, and the dumb kids that lived in Cold Spring.

  FOUR

  “Engraved invitations for a birthday party?” Marilyn Comstock passed the pale pink envelope to her husband and frowned, shaking her head. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. They’re strange people, Rob. Can you imagine spending all that money on engraved invitations? Are they trying to prove they’re better than everyone else in Cold Spring?”

  “I’m sure that wasn’t their intention at all,” Rob explained patiently. “You just have to bear with them, Marilyn. Remember, folks do things different in the Cities. They haven’t gotten the hang of small-town living yet. You have to give them a chance. I’m sure you’ll like them if you keep an open mind.”

  Marilyn shrugged and pressed her lips together. She supposed she should be a little tolerant. After all, the Houstons had bought her house. Rob had deeded the house over to her years ago for tax purposes and every cent of the house payment was deposited automatically to her account. She was earning more money every month they stayed. Still, she had her doubts about the new owners. If the Houstons wanted to be accepted in Cold Spring, they were going about it all the wrong way.

  “From what Mike says, it’s going to be a great party,” Rob went on, even though Marilyn w
as still frowning. “Taffy’s going to love it. They’re bringing in a clown from the Cities and a professional magician. It’s even being catered. I think it’s going to be the biggest birthday party Cold Spring ever had.”

  “Well . . . to each his own.” Marilyn sighed, wrinkling her nose slightly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with a small old-fashioned party, though. No one else in Cold Spring puts on such airs. I can’t see why the Houstons have to be so fancy with a simple thing like a child’s birthday party.”

  Rob cleared his throat and folded the paper over to look at the sports section. He wasn’t inclined to argue with Marilyn this morning, and he certainly wasn’t going to tell her that Mike had gotten the birthday money from the gambling he’d been doing lately. Rob had raked in a little extra cash, too, thanks to Mike’s tip on the Astros. Marilyn might not realize it, but Mike Houston’s heart was in the right place, using his winnings to throw a big birthday party for Leslie.

  “Well, Taffy will probably be excited.” Marilyn put the invitation back in the envelope and placed it in the exact center of the table, where Taffy would be bound to see it. Then she turned in her chair and faced Rob directly.

  “Why do you like them so much?” she asked. “You’re always over there, helping them with things.”

  Rob shrugged. It would be impossible to explain to Marilyn. He couldn’t tell her that at the oddest moments, sometimes in the middle of the night, he imagined himself doing something completely out of the ordinary—escaping the web of small-town life, drawing all his careful savings out of the bank and sinking every penny into something creative and daring. Marilyn assumed he was perfectly content here in Cold Spring, running his father’s real estate business, and he guessed he was, usually. Still, it cost nothing to dream. Mike Houston was an individual, one of those rare people with talent, personality, and the balls to do something with them.