but
Mrs. Beeson held up a hand. She looked Nickie straight in the eye. For a moment she didnt speak, and Nickie heard again the jingly tune that the noise of the vacuum had covered up. You did well, Mrs. Beeson said. Her voice was solemn. Listen, honey. I want you to remember this. When you know that youre doing Gods workthen youre willing to do anything. I meananything.
A shiver like a miniature lightning bolt shot through Nickies middle, right beneath her ribs.Anything if its Gods work, she thought. Yes, thats what it is to be a holy person: youre willing to do anything. She thought of stories shed heard about saints who let themselves be killed in awful ways. She thought about the brave characters in the books she loved, how they faced monsters and crossed flaming mountains and did not live by the rules of ordinary people. And it wasnt out of the question for someone as young as herself to be like them. Often, at least in books, it was a child who vanquished the darkness. She could be like that. She felt a great fierce desire to bring goodness to the worldor at least to Yonwood.
Mrs. Beeson stood up. Sausage got up, too. What a help you are, honey, Mrs. Beeson said. I think you and I have the same thing in minda bright, clean world where everyone knows how to behave! Wouldnt it be splendid?
Nickie nodded, imagining it: everyone kind, everyone good, no creepiness, no wars.
So the more of these trouble spots we can find, the better off well be, Mrs. Beeson went on, her voice becoming very stern. Remember what I said about how one moldy strawberry can ruin the whole basket? Were not going to let that happen. Were going to make this a good and godly town through and through. She bent over and swept the crumbs of Nickies cookie into her hand. And Ill tell you frankly, honey, Im the one to get it done. I may look like a dumpling, but I have a spine of steel.
Are you a preacher, Mrs. Beeson? Nickie asked.
No, no. Im retired. But I cant just sit around, can I? Thats not my way. She laughed. I coach girls baseball in the spring. I lead a study group at the church. Organize Yonwoods spring cleanup. Might even run for mayor someday. I like to wear a lot of different hats.
They headed for the hall, where several of Mrs. Beesons different hats hung from a tree-shaped hat rack. I keep hearing music, Nickie said. Wheres it coming from?
Oh! said Mrs. Beeson, smiling. Its my music box! She darted back into the living room and picked up the heart-shaped box from the mantel. Its very high-techpowered by some new kind of tiny everlasting battery. Plutonium, I think. It just goes and goes. Isnt it charming?
Yes, said Nickie.
Mrs. Beeson opened the front door and ushered her out. Thank you so much, she said. Anything else you notice, you just come and let me know. She beamed at Nickie, and Nickie glowed.
Afterward, though, she felt a tiny bit guilty. She hadnt really seen ghosts hovering around Hoyt McCoys house, or anything bad at all. Shed just had afeeling about the place. But everything else shed said was true; maybe that made up for one small fib.
As she came through Greenhavens front door, the telephone rang. She picked it up and said hello, and Amandas voice answered. Oh, good, its you. I just remembered something. I still have the house key. I oughta bring it back.
Okay, Nickie said. Come whenever you want. And Amandaanything new about the Prophet? Is she better?
No, shes just the same. Really sad and quiet. Keeps on saying stuff you cant figure out. Sometimes she wanders off.
Wanders off?
Yeah, its almost like shes walking in her sleep. She goes out in the yard, or even out the front door, and I have to quick go get her and bring her back.
Is she trying to go somewhere?
I dont know.
And Istill cant come and meet her? Because Imso interested, Amanda. MaybeI could tell what shes saying.
I doubt it, said Amanda. If Mrs. Beeson cant tell, I dont see howyou could.
Well, okay, maybe not, Nickie said. But Id like to
Mrs. Beeson held up a hand. She looked Nickie straight in the eye. For a moment she didnt speak, and Nickie heard again the jingly tune that the noise of the vacuum had covered up. You did well, Mrs. Beeson said. Her voice was solemn. Listen, honey. I want you to remember this. When you know that youre doing Gods workthen youre willing to do anything. I meananything.
A shiver like a miniature lightning bolt shot through Nickies middle, right beneath her ribs.Anything if its Gods work, she thought. Yes, thats what it is to be a holy person: youre willing to do anything. She thought of stories shed heard about saints who let themselves be killed in awful ways. She thought about the brave characters in the books she loved, how they faced monsters and crossed flaming mountains and did not live by the rules of ordinary people. And it wasnt out of the question for someone as young as herself to be like them. Often, at least in books, it was a child who vanquished the darkness. She could be like that. She felt a great fierce desire to bring goodness to the worldor at least to Yonwood.
Mrs. Beeson stood up. Sausage got up, too. What a help you are, honey, Mrs. Beeson said. I think you and I have the same thing in minda bright, clean world where everyone knows how to behave! Wouldnt it be splendid?
Nickie nodded, imagining it: everyone kind, everyone good, no creepiness, no wars.
So the more of these trouble spots we can find, the better off well be, Mrs. Beeson went on, her voice becoming very stern. Remember what I said about how one moldy strawberry can ruin the whole basket? Were not going to let that happen. Were going to make this a good and godly town through and through. She bent over and swept the crumbs of Nickies cookie into her hand. And Ill tell you frankly, honey, Im the one to get it done. I may look like a dumpling, but I have a spine of steel.
Are you a preacher, Mrs. Beeson? Nickie asked.
No, no. Im retired. But I cant just sit around, can I? Thats not my way. She laughed. I coach girls baseball in the spring. I lead a study group at the church. Organize Yonwoods spring cleanup. Might even run for mayor someday. I like to wear a lot of different hats.
They headed for the hall, where several of Mrs. Beesons different hats hung from a tree-shaped hat rack. I keep hearing music, Nickie said. Wheres it coming from?
Oh! said Mrs. Beeson, smiling. Its my music box! She darted back into the living room and picked up the heart-shaped box from the mantel. Its very high-techpowered by some new kind of tiny everlasting battery. Plutonium, I think. It just goes and goes. Isnt it charming?
Yes, said Nickie.
Mrs. Beeson opened the front door and ushered her out. Thank you so much, she said. Anything else you notice, you just come and let me know. She beamed at Nickie, and Nickie glowed.
Afterward, though, she felt a tiny bit guilty. She hadnt really seen ghosts hovering around Hoyt McCoys house, or anything bad at all. Shed just had afeeling about the place. But everything else shed said was true; maybe that made up for one small fib.
As she came through Greenhavens front door, the telephone rang. She picked it up and said hello, and Amandas voice answered. Oh, good, its you. I just remembered something. I still have the house key. I oughta bring it back.
Okay, Nickie said. Come whenever you want. And Amandaanything new about the Prophet? Is she better?
No, shes just the same. Really sad and quiet. Keeps on saying stuff you cant figure out. Sometimes she wanders off.
Wanders off?
Yeah, its almost like shes walking in her sleep. She goes out in the yard, or even out the front door, and I have to quick go get her and bring her back.
Is she trying to go somewhere?
I dont know.
And Istill cant come and meet her? Because Imso interested, Amanda. MaybeI could tell what shes saying.
I doubt it, said Amanda. If Mrs. Beeson cant tell, I dont see howyou could.
Well, okay, maybe not, Nickie said. But Id like to
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