life. On the other hand, she had
already
meddled in Gertrustein's life quite a bit, and it had seemed to work out okay. If
this
idea worked...
"I have to go someplace," she announced. "I'll see you later, Gertrustein."
She ran to the garage and wheeled out her bike.
***
Anastasia had already been to the small library. It was one of the first things she had done after they moved, finding the library and getting a library card.
In Cambridge, there had been a branch library not far from the Krupniks' apartment. Anastasia had been going to it since she was Sam's age: not by herself at that age, of course, but holding her mother's hand. Once, just before she moved, she had figured out that—if she had checked out eight books every week from the time she was two—she had taken more than four thousand books out of that library. That was a little puzzling, because the branch library was so small that she didn't think it
had
four thousand books. But her mother had pointed out that sometimes she took the same books over and over again.
In Cambridge, they knew her so well at the branch library that they called her Anastasia Again, the way Gertrustein was beginning to.
At this new library, they didn't know her at all, at least not
yet,
which was a little depressing. But they would. She had looked through their card catalogue and discovered they were missing some of her favorite books, so she was planning to write them a letter. One book that had been her favorite for years, in Cambridge, described all the symptoms of leprosy in great detail. She had checked
it out regularly once every few months, just to be sure once again that she didn't have leprosy. Sometimes it was hard to tell, because one of the symptoms was itchy ear lobes. Every now and then Anastasia had itchy ear lobes. When she did, she always checked out the leprosy book so that she could read the other symptoms and be certain she didn't have them, too. Now that she lived in a town whose library didn't contain the leprosy book, she didn't know what she would do when her ear lobes itched. So she was going to mention that in her letter to the local library—politely, of course.
But right now she was headed, on her bike, for the building that she had noticed next door to the library. It was called the Senior Citizens Drop-in Center.
The door was open, and people looked up when she entered. It was probably pretty obvious, she realized, that she wasn't a Senior Citizen. Anastasia was not, in fact, a Senior Anything. She had dropped out of Girl Scouts as soon as she realized how awful she looked in a Girl Scout uniform, so she would never be a Senior Girl Scout. And she had given up on swimming lessons just after she passed Advanced Beginner, because it was such an effort not to sink. So she would never get her Senior Lifesaving badge.
Inside the door was a bulletin board, and Anastasia read announcements of painting classes, a trip to a flower show, a Great Books discussion group, lectures by a financial expert, and a course in gourmet cooking. There was also a notice of a lost cat named Boots, who was wearing a red flea collar; and there was a wedding announcement.
The people who had gotten married were named Ida and Harry, so Anastasia knew that they were Senior Citizens. No one young was named Ida or Harry.
Most of the people in the Senior Citizens Drop-in Center had gray hair, except for one woman whose hair was bright orange and one man who had no hair at all. Some of them were playing cards, although they stopped when Anastasia came in and looked over at her, still holding their cards. "I said 'Four spades,'" one woman said, but the others didn't answer her. Two men were playing Ping-Pong, and they stopped, too, and looked at Anastasia. They were all pretty friendly looking, but they seemed surprised to see her there.
A young woman came out of the back room, saw Anastasia, and smiled.
"Hi there. I'm Fran McCormick, the director. Can I help you? Are you
already
meddled in Gertrustein's life quite a bit, and it had seemed to work out okay. If
this
idea worked...
"I have to go someplace," she announced. "I'll see you later, Gertrustein."
She ran to the garage and wheeled out her bike.
***
Anastasia had already been to the small library. It was one of the first things she had done after they moved, finding the library and getting a library card.
In Cambridge, there had been a branch library not far from the Krupniks' apartment. Anastasia had been going to it since she was Sam's age: not by herself at that age, of course, but holding her mother's hand. Once, just before she moved, she had figured out that—if she had checked out eight books every week from the time she was two—she had taken more than four thousand books out of that library. That was a little puzzling, because the branch library was so small that she didn't think it
had
four thousand books. But her mother had pointed out that sometimes she took the same books over and over again.
In Cambridge, they knew her so well at the branch library that they called her Anastasia Again, the way Gertrustein was beginning to.
At this new library, they didn't know her at all, at least not
yet,
which was a little depressing. But they would. She had looked through their card catalogue and discovered they were missing some of her favorite books, so she was planning to write them a letter. One book that had been her favorite for years, in Cambridge, described all the symptoms of leprosy in great detail. She had checked
it out regularly once every few months, just to be sure once again that she didn't have leprosy. Sometimes it was hard to tell, because one of the symptoms was itchy ear lobes. Every now and then Anastasia had itchy ear lobes. When she did, she always checked out the leprosy book so that she could read the other symptoms and be certain she didn't have them, too. Now that she lived in a town whose library didn't contain the leprosy book, she didn't know what she would do when her ear lobes itched. So she was going to mention that in her letter to the local library—politely, of course.
But right now she was headed, on her bike, for the building that she had noticed next door to the library. It was called the Senior Citizens Drop-in Center.
The door was open, and people looked up when she entered. It was probably pretty obvious, she realized, that she wasn't a Senior Citizen. Anastasia was not, in fact, a Senior Anything. She had dropped out of Girl Scouts as soon as she realized how awful she looked in a Girl Scout uniform, so she would never be a Senior Girl Scout. And she had given up on swimming lessons just after she passed Advanced Beginner, because it was such an effort not to sink. So she would never get her Senior Lifesaving badge.
Inside the door was a bulletin board, and Anastasia read announcements of painting classes, a trip to a flower show, a Great Books discussion group, lectures by a financial expert, and a course in gourmet cooking. There was also a notice of a lost cat named Boots, who was wearing a red flea collar; and there was a wedding announcement.
The people who had gotten married were named Ida and Harry, so Anastasia knew that they were Senior Citizens. No one young was named Ida or Harry.
Most of the people in the Senior Citizens Drop-in Center had gray hair, except for one woman whose hair was bright orange and one man who had no hair at all. Some of them were playing cards, although they stopped when Anastasia came in and looked over at her, still holding their cards. "I said 'Four spades,'" one woman said, but the others didn't answer her. Two men were playing Ping-Pong, and they stopped, too, and looked at Anastasia. They were all pretty friendly looking, but they seemed surprised to see her there.
A young woman came out of the back room, saw Anastasia, and smiled.
"Hi there. I'm Fran McCormick, the director. Can I help you? Are you
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