[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
answer I got was, "The Francher kid can do anything-bad."
Even Anna still found him an unwelcome burden in her classroom despite the
fact that he was finally functioning on a fairly acceptable level
academically.
Here I'd been thinking-heaven knows why!-that he was establishing
himself in the community.
Instead he was doing well to hold his own. I reviewed to myself all that had
happened since first I met him, and found hardly a thing that would be
positive in the eyes of the general public.
"Why," I thought to myself, "I'm darned lucky he's kept out of the hands of
the law!" And my stomach knotted coldly at what might happen if the Francher
kid ever did step over into out-and-out lawlessness. There's something
insidiously sweet to the adolescent in flouting authority, and I wanted no
such appetite for any My Child of mine.
Well, the next few days after Dr. Curtis left were typical hunting-weather
days. Minutes of sunshine and shouting autumn colors-hours of cloud and
rain and near snow and raw aching winds. Reports came of heavy snow
across Mingus Mountain, and Dogietown was snowed in for the winter, a trifle
earlier than usual. We watched our own first flakes idle down, then whip
themselves to tears against the huddled houses. It looked as though all
excitement and activity were about to be squeezed out of
Willow Springs by the drab grayness of winter.
Then the unexpected, which sometimes splashes our grayness with scarlet,
happened. The big dude-ranch school, the Half Circle Star, that occupied the
choicest of the range land in our area, invited all the school kids out to a
musical splurge. They had imported an orchestra that played concerts as well
as being a very good dance band, and they planned a gala weekend with a
concert Friday evening followed by a dance for the teeners Saturday night. The
ranch students were usually kept aloof from the town kids, poor little tikes.
They were mostly unwanted or maladjusted children whose parents could afford
to get rid of them with a flourish under the guise of giving them the
advantage of growing up in healthful surroundings.
Of course the whole town was flung into a tizzy. There were the children of
Page 110
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
millionaires out there and famous people's kids, too, but about the only
glimpse we ever got of them was as they swept grandly through the town in the
ranch station wagons. On such occasions we collectively blinked our
eyes at the chromium glitter, and sighed-though perhaps for different reasons.
I sighed for thin unhappy faces pressed to windows and sad eyes yearning back
at houses where families lived who wanted their kids.
Anyway the consensus of opinion was that it would be worth suffering through a
"music concert" to get to go to a dance with a real orchestra, because only
those who attended the concert were eligible for the dance.
There was much discussion and much heartburning over what to wear to the two
so divergent affairs.
The boys were complacent after they found out that their one good outfit was
right for both. The girls discussed endlessly, and embarked upon a wild
lend-borrow spree when they found that fathers positively refused to spend
largely even for this so special occasion.
I was very pleased for the Francher kid. Now he'd have a chance to hear live
music-a considerable cut above what snarled in our staticky wave lengths from
the available radio stations. Now maybe he'd hear a faint echo of his rappoor
and in style, too, because Mrs. McVey had finally broken down and bought him a
new suit, a really nice one by the local standards. I was as anxious as Twyla
to see how the
Francher kid would look in such splendor.
So it was with a distinct shock that I saw the kid at the concert, lounging,
thumbs in pockets, against the
door of the room where the crowd gathered. His face was shut and dark, and his
patched faded Levi's made a blotch in the dimness of the room.
"Look!" Twyla whispered. "He's in Levi's!"
"How come?" I breathed. "Where's his new suit?"
"I don't know. And those Levi's aren't even clean!" She hunched down in her
seat, feeling the accusing eyes of the whole world searing her through the
Francher kid.
The concert was splendid. Even our rockin'est rollers were caught up in the
wonderful web of music.
Even I lost myself for long lovely moments in the bright melodic trails that
led me out of the gray lanes of familiarity. But I also felt the bite of tears
behind my eyes. Music is made to be moved to, and my unresponsive feet
wouldn't even tap a tempo. I let the brasses and drums smash my rebellion into
bearable-sized pieces again and joined joyfully in the enthusiastic applause.
"Hey!" Rigo said behind me as the departing stir of the crowd began. "I didn't
know anything could sound like that. Man! Did you hear that horn! I'd like to
get me one of them things and blow it!"
"You'd sound like a sick cow," Janniset said. "Them's hard to play."
Their discussion moved on down the aisle.
"He's gone." Twyla's voice was a breath in my ear.
"Yes," I said. "But we'll probably see him out at the bus."
But we didn't. He wasn't at the bus. He hadn't come out on the bus. No one
knew hove he got out to the ranch or where he had gone.
Anna and Twyla and I piled into Anna's car and headed back for Willow Creek,
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]