about it, okay?’
I nodded. But how was I not going to worry about it?
When we took Oh My and Lady on the trail, Dad kept pointing out birds (blue jay, hawk, early owl, kingfisher, crows, even a hummingbird), animals (two ground squirrels, a bobcat), and plants (tree moss, olive tree, many oaks with unusual branches, walnut, mustard), and then he had me tell him all about school (I told him about the books we were going to read for class – The Red Badge of Courage, Le Ballon Rouge, Introduction to Geometry, Mountains and Oceans, and The Egyptians ). He was keeping me from worrying about Blue. And I did stop worrying about him and start worrying about geology. Just that very day, our geology teacher, Mr Mallon, had asked us how old we thought the world (‘the Earth’) was, and Kyle had given the correct answer, four and a half billion years old, and he knew all about some meteorite that had landed somewhere in Arizona and was tested for something that showed how old the universe was. This was way older than the Bible said, and I was glad I hadn’t raised my hand. But then, I planned to never raise my hand.
*
On Monday, in history, Sophia came in, sat down right next to me as if we were perfectly good friends, and said, ‘You should ride Pie in the Sky again.’
‘He was nice.’
‘He’s erratic.’
‘I liked him.’ Then I said, ‘Peter Finneran was kind of mean.’
Then the teacher gave us a look, and we opened our textbooks. I watched Sophia for a moment, and I was sorry I had said anything. She stared at the book and began kicking her foot against the leg of her chair. Miss Cumberland said, ‘Abby Lovitt! Do you have something better to do than read your book?’
I read my book. We had done pharaohs already in seventh grade, but this time we were going to go from Egypt to Ur to Greece to Rome, all before Thanksgiving. I have to say that the textbook about the Egyptians did not say much about the Israelites, but even so, there were pretty interesting things in there – photographs of pyramids and drawings of tiny little men pushing huge stones up ramps on some logs. There were also a lot of Egyptian paintings of kings, where the kings were very large and the regular people only came up to about their knees. By the end of the period, Sophia was her normal self – she marched off to her next class without looking right or left.
A couple of days later, Miss Cumberland gave us paper and coloured pencils – as a project, we were supposed to draw ourselves in the Egyptian way, with the feet and head looking north, say, and the chest looking west. Sophia and I drew each other, and the pictures made us laugh. I gave her a hard hat, big feet, and riding boots, and she gave me a whip in my hand. We gave each other horses that looked sort of Egyptian, too. Miss Cumberland tacked all the drawings to the bulletin board. After that, we talked pretty often, but Sophia never said ‘Hi,’ or ‘Bye,’ or ‘See you later.’ She just started talking or stopped talking, depending on whether she had something to say.
It turned out that she had gone to the private school that ended in eighth grade. Then most of her friends went on to the private high school, but Sophia didn’t want such a long day, and Colonel Hawkins agreed with her – the private school started after nine and didn’t get out until almost five, whereas the public school started just before eight and got out by three. More time to ride. Sophia and her mom had discussed it all summer, and finally, when Sophia had promised to make all As (which she had not done at her previous school), her mom had given in. Her dad didn’t care – he had gone to our high school, the class of 1943 (one day, after class, she showed me his picture in the hall). Her mom was from Chicago. Her parents had met in the army during the Second World War. She was an only child. She had four dogs – a miniature poodle of her own, two King Charles spaniels that her mom took
I nodded. But how was I not going to worry about it?
When we took Oh My and Lady on the trail, Dad kept pointing out birds (blue jay, hawk, early owl, kingfisher, crows, even a hummingbird), animals (two ground squirrels, a bobcat), and plants (tree moss, olive tree, many oaks with unusual branches, walnut, mustard), and then he had me tell him all about school (I told him about the books we were going to read for class – The Red Badge of Courage, Le Ballon Rouge, Introduction to Geometry, Mountains and Oceans, and The Egyptians ). He was keeping me from worrying about Blue. And I did stop worrying about him and start worrying about geology. Just that very day, our geology teacher, Mr Mallon, had asked us how old we thought the world (‘the Earth’) was, and Kyle had given the correct answer, four and a half billion years old, and he knew all about some meteorite that had landed somewhere in Arizona and was tested for something that showed how old the universe was. This was way older than the Bible said, and I was glad I hadn’t raised my hand. But then, I planned to never raise my hand.
*
On Monday, in history, Sophia came in, sat down right next to me as if we were perfectly good friends, and said, ‘You should ride Pie in the Sky again.’
‘He was nice.’
‘He’s erratic.’
‘I liked him.’ Then I said, ‘Peter Finneran was kind of mean.’
Then the teacher gave us a look, and we opened our textbooks. I watched Sophia for a moment, and I was sorry I had said anything. She stared at the book and began kicking her foot against the leg of her chair. Miss Cumberland said, ‘Abby Lovitt! Do you have something better to do than read your book?’
I read my book. We had done pharaohs already in seventh grade, but this time we were going to go from Egypt to Ur to Greece to Rome, all before Thanksgiving. I have to say that the textbook about the Egyptians did not say much about the Israelites, but even so, there were pretty interesting things in there – photographs of pyramids and drawings of tiny little men pushing huge stones up ramps on some logs. There were also a lot of Egyptian paintings of kings, where the kings were very large and the regular people only came up to about their knees. By the end of the period, Sophia was her normal self – she marched off to her next class without looking right or left.
A couple of days later, Miss Cumberland gave us paper and coloured pencils – as a project, we were supposed to draw ourselves in the Egyptian way, with the feet and head looking north, say, and the chest looking west. Sophia and I drew each other, and the pictures made us laugh. I gave her a hard hat, big feet, and riding boots, and she gave me a whip in my hand. We gave each other horses that looked sort of Egyptian, too. Miss Cumberland tacked all the drawings to the bulletin board. After that, we talked pretty often, but Sophia never said ‘Hi,’ or ‘Bye,’ or ‘See you later.’ She just started talking or stopped talking, depending on whether she had something to say.
It turned out that she had gone to the private school that ended in eighth grade. Then most of her friends went on to the private high school, but Sophia didn’t want such a long day, and Colonel Hawkins agreed with her – the private school started after nine and didn’t get out until almost five, whereas the public school started just before eight and got out by three. More time to ride. Sophia and her mom had discussed it all summer, and finally, when Sophia had promised to make all As (which she had not done at her previous school), her mom had given in. Her dad didn’t care – he had gone to our high school, the class of 1943 (one day, after class, she showed me his picture in the hall). Her mom was from Chicago. Her parents had met in the army during the Second World War. She was an only child. She had four dogs – a miniature poodle of her own, two King Charles spaniels that her mom took
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