him a blackmail letter and not tell me?"
"I didn't even need to," Veronica said. "I sent him a note in school, that I wanted to talk to him, and yesterday afternoon, when you and Sweet-Ho took Gunther to town to buy his new shoes? He called me on the phone."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I demanded.
Veronica looked apologetic. "I didn't have a chance. When you got home, Gunther was showing off his shoes and dancing around, and then Daddy came home and we ate dinner and all. And then afterward, when Gunther was put to bed, we all played Monopoly, remember?"
"Yeah." It was true. Me and Veronica and Sweet-Ho and Mr. Bigelow played a game of Monopoly that lasted so late we was all practically asleep, and even then we just had to quit; no one won.
We started walking again. "Well, did you threaten him about the choir hat? That we'd tell on him?"
Veronica shook her head. "I just told him that we were helping Millie Bellows with her housekeeping, her being so old and not able to keep up, and that we could use some more strong arms for the floors and like that."
"
I
'm strong, Veronica! You didn't need to pretend we was weaklings!" I tried to stick my arm out to make a muscle, but I was lugging this monster can of floor wax, so's I couldn't. Veronica knew about my muscles, anyway.
"Well," she said, "I just thought I'd flatter him. And it worked. He said he'd probably come over and help out this morning."
One part of me could see she was right, and that it
did
work. But shoot, we didn't need him to help with the floor. She missed the whole point, which was to
punish
Norman Cox and force him to make amends. The other part of me got powerfully angry, the first time I ever felt so angry at Veronica.
"Here!" I said all of a sudden. "You think I'm so weak, maybe I shouldn't be carrying this here heavy
old floor wax!" I shoved the can at her and grabbed the bag of date-and-nut bars in exchange.
We didn't say anything else but when we got to Millie Bellows's porch, I remembered something and felt sorry for my anger. I remembered that in the afternoon, after lunch, Veronica was going to Meadowhill with her father. I knew how mixed-up she must feel about that because I felt mixed-up about it myself, and shoot, it wasn't even my mother who was crazy.
"Probably he won't even come, dumb old Norman," I said, as we rang the bell and opened the door. Millie liked for us to ring first and then let ourselves in.
But he did. Me and Veronica was barefoot in Millie Bellows's kitchen, hunkered down and scrubbing at that dirty old floor, which probably had never been washed since several husbands ago, when we heard the doorbell ring. Veronica jumped up and almost fell because her feet slid on the soapy floor.
"You don't have to go," I grumbled at her. "It's Millie Bellows's house. Let her answer her own dumb door."
"I have to explain to her about Norman," Veronica said, and rushed out of the kitchen, leaving me scraping away at cruddy stuff by the corner of the refrigerator. I grabbed up a knife from the kitchen table and pried at the sticky old wad of spilled food, pretending it was old Norman Cox and I could just pry him up and throw him away.
I could hear them talking in the other room, Veronica and Millie Bellows and Norman. Millie Bellows was quarrelsome as always, complaining that she didn't want that Cox boy in her house, but Veronica was talking all sweet, saying as how we needed his muscles for the heavy work. Next thing I knew, there they were in the kitchen, Veronica and Norman, and Millie was mumbling and shuffling back to her chair in front of the TV.
Just you say one nasty thing, Norman, I thought, glaring at him. Just call me one name, and I'm gone. You can do this old floor your whole self and I don't care none.
But he didn't say nothing. He just stood there, shuffling his old sneakers, while Veronica explained to him about the floor and handed him a scrub brush and a pail of soapy water. Then he knelt down and started in on
"I didn't even need to," Veronica said. "I sent him a note in school, that I wanted to talk to him, and yesterday afternoon, when you and Sweet-Ho took Gunther to town to buy his new shoes? He called me on the phone."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I demanded.
Veronica looked apologetic. "I didn't have a chance. When you got home, Gunther was showing off his shoes and dancing around, and then Daddy came home and we ate dinner and all. And then afterward, when Gunther was put to bed, we all played Monopoly, remember?"
"Yeah." It was true. Me and Veronica and Sweet-Ho and Mr. Bigelow played a game of Monopoly that lasted so late we was all practically asleep, and even then we just had to quit; no one won.
We started walking again. "Well, did you threaten him about the choir hat? That we'd tell on him?"
Veronica shook her head. "I just told him that we were helping Millie Bellows with her housekeeping, her being so old and not able to keep up, and that we could use some more strong arms for the floors and like that."
"
I
'm strong, Veronica! You didn't need to pretend we was weaklings!" I tried to stick my arm out to make a muscle, but I was lugging this monster can of floor wax, so's I couldn't. Veronica knew about my muscles, anyway.
"Well," she said, "I just thought I'd flatter him. And it worked. He said he'd probably come over and help out this morning."
One part of me could see she was right, and that it
did
work. But shoot, we didn't need him to help with the floor. She missed the whole point, which was to
punish
Norman Cox and force him to make amends. The other part of me got powerfully angry, the first time I ever felt so angry at Veronica.
"Here!" I said all of a sudden. "You think I'm so weak, maybe I shouldn't be carrying this here heavy
old floor wax!" I shoved the can at her and grabbed the bag of date-and-nut bars in exchange.
We didn't say anything else but when we got to Millie Bellows's porch, I remembered something and felt sorry for my anger. I remembered that in the afternoon, after lunch, Veronica was going to Meadowhill with her father. I knew how mixed-up she must feel about that because I felt mixed-up about it myself, and shoot, it wasn't even my mother who was crazy.
"Probably he won't even come, dumb old Norman," I said, as we rang the bell and opened the door. Millie liked for us to ring first and then let ourselves in.
But he did. Me and Veronica was barefoot in Millie Bellows's kitchen, hunkered down and scrubbing at that dirty old floor, which probably had never been washed since several husbands ago, when we heard the doorbell ring. Veronica jumped up and almost fell because her feet slid on the soapy floor.
"You don't have to go," I grumbled at her. "It's Millie Bellows's house. Let her answer her own dumb door."
"I have to explain to her about Norman," Veronica said, and rushed out of the kitchen, leaving me scraping away at cruddy stuff by the corner of the refrigerator. I grabbed up a knife from the kitchen table and pried at the sticky old wad of spilled food, pretending it was old Norman Cox and I could just pry him up and throw him away.
I could hear them talking in the other room, Veronica and Millie Bellows and Norman. Millie Bellows was quarrelsome as always, complaining that she didn't want that Cox boy in her house, but Veronica was talking all sweet, saying as how we needed his muscles for the heavy work. Next thing I knew, there they were in the kitchen, Veronica and Norman, and Millie was mumbling and shuffling back to her chair in front of the TV.
Just you say one nasty thing, Norman, I thought, glaring at him. Just call me one name, and I'm gone. You can do this old floor your whole self and I don't care none.
But he didn't say nothing. He just stood there, shuffling his old sneakers, while Veronica explained to him about the floor and handed him a scrub brush and a pail of soapy water. Then he knelt down and started in on
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