Kid Power (8 page)

“Do you share it with your sister?” she asked as we walked in. I have a double bed, so there would be room for the two of us.

“Carol's room is across the hall,” I said.

“You do have a lot of books,” Harriet said, looking at my bookshelves. “You like mysteries?”

“They're my favorite,” I said.

“Mine, too,” she said, making me sorry I'd said I liked them. “What did you say about your sister's room?”

“It's right across the hall,” I said.

“So if I stayed here nobody would bother me?” she asked.

“Nobody would bother you,” I said.

“Okay then, that's what I'll do,” Harriet said and took one of my books off the shelf. She sat down in my rocking chair. “I'll stay here and read for a while. I've always wanted to read this book.”

“What do you want me to do?” I asked helplessly.

“I don't care,” Harriet said. “Go out and earn some more money if you want. I just want to be alone and read for a while.”

“For how long?” I asked.

“Until four,” she said looking at my clock. “Then we can go back to Gran's.”

“But don't you want to go out and do something?” I asked.

“Not particularly,” she said. “I've been doing stuff all week. I'd rather read.”

I didn't know what to say. Part of me was screaming that Harriet was invading my bedroom without even asking my permission, but another part of me thought it was a lot better than having to keep her company for two hours with nothing to say to her and not liking her one bit. This way everybody would be happy, me, Harriet, and especially Mrs. Marks. There were worse arrangements.

I guess Harriet could see I was hesitating. “Don't worry,” she said. “I won't look at any of your precious stuff.”

“I didn't think you would,” I said coldly. “Okay, I'll knock on the door at four.”

“Fine,” Harriet said, and opened the book up. I left my room and closed my door behind me. I went downstairs and found a book to read. I wanted to sit on the back porch, but I was afraid somebody would see me alone and somehow Mrs. Marks would hear about it, so I stayed in the living room and started to read.

Mom came in a half an hour later. “Hi honey,” she said. “Help me with these groceries, would you?”

“Sure,” I said, and took the bags from her. We walked into the kitchen together, each carrying a bag.

“I thought you were going to be spending the afternoon with Harriet,” Mom said as we put the bags down on the counter.

“I am,” I said. “She's up in my room reading.”

“She is?” Mom said. “Did you two have a fight?”

“I don't think so,” I said. “She just wanted to be alone and read.”

“Oh, all right,” Mom said, and started putting stuff in the refrigerator. “Would she like to stay and have supper with us?”

“No, she wants to go back to her grandmother's at four,” I said. “Mom, she never wears the clothes Mrs. Marks makes for her.”

“She doesn't?” Mom said. I had a strong feeling she wasn't listening to me.

“None of them,” I said. “With all the work Mrs. Marks does, she doesn't even wear them. Her mother doesn't like her to.”

“Grandmothers and mothers don't always get along,” Mom said. “I thought I'd make tuna noodle casserole for supper tonight. What do you think?”

“Tuna noodle casserole sounds fine,” I said with a sigh. Mom hadn't listened well when she was studying for final exams or writing papers for college either. She was always too “distracted.” Now she was distracted because there was nothing distracting her except tuna noodle casserole.

“I'm going into the living room,” I said.

“Why not sit on the back porch?” she asked. “I'm going to just as soon as I put all the groceries away.”

“I don't think so,” I said. “I'll see you later.”

“Sure, hon,” she said.

I read until ten of four, then spent five minutes working my nerve up to go to my own room and knock on my own door. I finally got indignant enough not to be scared and went upstairs.

“Come in,” Harriet said after I knocked, so I did.

“It's time,” I said.

“Okay,” she said, getting up. “I didn't have a chance to finish the book,” she said. “I'll take it with me and give it to Gran to give back to you when I've finished.”

“Okay,” I said. I guessed it was okay, too. What harm would it do to loan her a book? “We'd better get going.”

“All right,” she said.

“My mom wanted to know if you'd like to have supper here,” I said.

“It would break Gran's heart if I did,” she said, and started downstairs. “Thank your mother for the invitation though.”

“I will,” I said, following her down. We left the house and walked to Mrs. Marks's in silence. Harriet held on tightly to my book.

“We're almost there,” she said to me when we reached Mrs. Marks's block. “Come on, start talking.”

“About what?” I asked.

“Anything,” Harriet said. “Just so Gran thinks we spent all our time talking.”

“Oh,” I said. “So what are your favorite subjects, Harriet?” Adults always ask me that when they can't think of anything else to say.

“English,” she said. “And social studies.”

English and social studies were my favorite subjects, too. It was amazing how much Harriet and I had in common and how horrible she was. “I like them, too,” I said, and couldn't think of another polite thing to say.

“Are you excited about starting junior high?” she asked.

“I guess so,” I said, relieved to reach the front door. “Carol seems to enjoy it.”

“I wish I had a sister,” Harriet said loudly and rang the bell. I just stared at her. “Hi Gran,” she said, as Mrs. Marks opened the door for us. “Did you have a nice afternoon?”

“Very nice,” Mrs. Marks said, and kissed Harriet on the cheek. “Did you girls enjoy yourselves?”

“We had a great time,” Harriet said. “Too bad we don't have any more time to spend together.”

“It is a shame,” Mrs. Marks said. “Well Janie, would you like to come in and tell me what you girls did?”

I swallowed hard. “I'd love to,” I said. “But my mom's expecting me home to help her with supper.”

“Janie's mom invited me to stay for supper,” Harriet said. “But I said I wanted to eat with you more.”

“You should have had dinner with your new friend,” Mrs. Marks protested, but she was beaming. I had to hand it to Harriet. She was the single best liar I'd ever met.

“Well, I've got to be going,” I said, eager to get home.

“Harriet, would you be a darling and get my glasses for me?” Mrs. Marks said. “I think I left them on the kitchen table.”

“Sure, Gran,” Harriet said. “Bye, Janie.”

“Good-bye,” I said and watched her leave.

Mrs. Marks took an envelope out of her skirt pocket. “Here, Janie,” she said. “That little bonus I promised you.”

“Thank you,” I said and took the envelope from her. I didn't even think about what might be in it, I was so eager to escape.

“You've been an angel,” Mrs. Marks said. “Harriet and I both appreciate it.”

“Okay,” I said. “Well, good-bye Mrs. Marks.”

“Good-bye, dear,” she said, and closed the door. I walked down her front steps and all the way to the end of the block before I thought about opening the envelope and seeing what was in it. I stood at the intersection and ripped the envelope open. In it was a five dollar bill. No note or anything. Just money for spending the afternoon with Harriet and pretending to like her.

I understood then what people meant when they called it dirty money.

Chapter Eight

Whether I wanted to or not, I was committed to keeping Kid Power going, at least until Mrs. Townsend came back from the hospital and sued me. So I gritted my teeth and kept earning money. By that point I couldn't have cared less about getting a new bike. I'd never been all that crazy for one anyway; it was always more Carol's idea than mine. There was nothing I really wanted at that point except my freedom and a job for Mom. And Kid Power could supply me with neither.

At least my work with Mrs. Marks was over with. A couple of weeks earlier I would have been upset to lose all that money coming in regularly, but a couple of weeks ago I hadn't lost my best friend or my self-respect. I wished a lot that it was a couple of weeks ago.

The only thing I really felt good about was visiting Mrs. Edwards. She was so nice to me. When I was in a hurry, she never made me stay and talk, the way Mrs. Marks did. And when I told her I was in no rush, she'd invite me to stay a while and talk to her about things. I wished I could tell her about Harriet, but it was a secret somehow, so I kept my mouth shut. I didn't tell her about how everybody in my family was constantly getting ready to shout at everybody else in my family either. And the Japanese beetles were something I preferred to keep to myself. But even with all those things I couldn't discuss, there was plenty for Mrs. Edwards and me to talk about. We talked about television a lot; we liked some of the same shows. We talked about school, since Mrs. Edwards used to be a schoolteacher. She liked hearing what things had changed and what was still the same. And I told her about getting Peachy to take his pills and who bought what at garage sales.

Another thing I liked about Mrs. Edwards was that she never gave me any extra money because I stayed and visited with her. Sometimes my visits lasted two hours, and even with her special senior citizen discount rate, that should have cost her a dollar. But I didn't want the extra money. I figured I was being paid fifty cents a day to see if she needed anything; the visits were all because I wanted to. Mrs. Edwards understood that without my saying anything. At the end of each week she gave me $2.50 and never a penny more. I liked that.

I used to go over first thing every morning, since Mrs. Edwards was an early riser, and if she wanted something, I figured she might as well get it as soon as possible. So Monday morning, a few days after Harriet's visit, I went over to check on Mrs. Edwards and see if I could pick up something for her. I had a feeling I probably could run an errand for her, because I knew she had library books due.

I walked over there and rang the doorbell, but there was no answer, so I rang it again. There was still no answer. I decided I'd better knock on the door, since maybe the doorbell was broken. Our doorbell breaks all the time. Mom always calls it shoddy workmanship, but Dad refuses to, because of his respect for workmen. Dad's respect can drive you crazy.

There was still no answer, so I waited a couple of minutes, and then I rang the bell again. Nothing. I knocked on the door. Nothing. That meant that Mrs. Edwards wasn't in. If she'd been home, she might have been upstairs or in the bathroom or even in the cellar putting up preserves, but after all that time she would have heard the front door and had time to answer it. Which meant she was out.

So I went over to Mrs. Townsend's poor garden. Mr. Townsend had left me a new sheet of instructions on his back porch. There was mostly stuff about pruning this time. Pruning sounded good, since it meant I could cut away at least some of the branches the Japanese beetles had destroyed. I picked up the pruning shears, and started on the hedges.

Chopping the hedges down to size was actually kind of fun. Besides it felt good to know I was supposed to destroy things. And even if I cut the hedges too short, they'd grow back, and probably by the time Mrs. Town-send got back from the hospital. So I felt pretty good about what I was doing for a change.

I was hard at work when I heard someone say “hello” very softly. I looked up and saw Lisa.

“Hi,” I said, cool and scared.

“I see you're trimming the hedges,” she said.

“Yeah,” I said. I thought about saying something nasty, but I didn't want to. “Do you think I'm doing it okay?”

“Just fine,” Lisa said quickly. “You're a very good hedge trimmer.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“I was just walking by,” she said. “And I saw you working and I thought I might as well come over and say hello.”

“You might as well,” I said. “I mean I'm glad you did.”

“I'm glad I did, too,” Lisa said and smiled. “Actually, I've been walking past Mrs. Townsend's garden practically every day for weeks now so I could come over and say hello.”

“You didn't see me before this?” I asked. It seemed impossible. It felt like I'd been doing nothing but working on that garden since the end of school.

“I did,” Lisa said. “At least three times. But I never had the nerve to come over. You must be pretty mad at me.”

“No,” I said truthfully. “I never should have forgotten about that movie. It was important to you.”

“Kid Power's important to you,” Lisa said. “Besides, I had no business hanging up on you.”

“Well, that did bother me,” I admitted. “But it doesn't matter. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you even more,” Lisa said. “It's been just horrible.”

“I know,” I said.

“So,” Lisa said. “Have you been keeping busy?”

“I've been doing okay,” I said. It felt strange talking to Lisa, and I could see she wasn't comfortable doing it either. I had a feeling the more we talked the better it would get. “Kid Power's been keeping me pretty busy, but lately things have slowed down.”

“Have you made much money?”

“I guess so,” I said. “I haven't added it up in a while.”

“Did you start a savings account?” she asked.

“Not yet,” I said. “The money's all stuffed in an envelope in my room.”

“That's pretty stupid,” Lisa said. “If it was in a bank, you'd be getting interest.”