look came over Dolly’s face. “Yes,” she said. “That’s it.”
So the following day, Christina checked out five books from Dolly’s list and brought them home. It was near supper. Everybody was there. Mr. and Mrs. Shevvington, Michael, and Benj. You could not count Anya anymore. She seemed to occupy no space. Hardly more than air.
“Here are your books, Dolly,” Christina said. “Hope these are good enough. The librarian had to substitute one.”
Everybody stared at Christina.
“Christina,” said Mr. Shevvington, “I don’t know how much farther this can go. You know perfectly well we are trying to wean Dolly from her obsession with fictional characters. You know we are struggling to get her to dance and have friends over to play, instead of curling up with escape stories. And here you are, undermining our decisions, boldly and blatantly marching in here with the forbidden objects.”
Christina said, “Since when do high school principals and English teachers forbid a kid to read books?”
Michael whirled on Christina. “Since they have gotten concerned for her health, Christina. You think we want Dolly to be some nut case like you or Anya?”
But I’m the good guy! Christina thought.
“She was always spoiled,” Michael said. “The Shevvingtons are good for her. If you’d ever follow their rules, they’d be good for you, too.”
What did Michael see, upstairs at night? Did he see happy, funny Dolly? Did he not notice that Dolly was afraid of more and more things every day? Did he not think that when his little sister was even afraid of frost on the windows there was something radically wrong? “She’s your sister!” cried Christina. “Put her first.”
Michael said very quietly, “Do you ever put me first? How many of my games have you come to since the season started, Chrissie? You and I used to be really good friends. Do you even know whether I’m a starter or whether I warm the bench? Do you know how many points I’m averaging each game? Do you know who we’re playing next Friday? Have you ever brought my own sister to see me play?”
Christina flinched. While I was busy trying to be a savior, she thought, Michael stepped out of my mind like a stranger out of a bus.
“On the cupola of Schooner Inne,” said Mr. Shevvington, the Perfect Principal, “is a weathervane. A copper fish. Frozen in place. No matter how the wind blows, he points the same way.” Mr. Shevvington looked sadly at Christina. “No matter how the wind blows, Christina, you point only at Mrs. Shevvington and me. It’s time to melt, Christina.”
Michael and Benjamin and Dolly Jaye nodded.
Anya floated, unhearing.
Dolly slipped into a chair. She was small enough that her feet did not touch the floor, and she swung them a little, like a toddler.
There was ice in Christina’s heart, put there by the betrayals of her parents and friends. If she melted that ice, people would be her friends again. But if she ceased to fight the Shevvingtons, nobody would fight them. They would win forever and ever, whether they wanted to humiliate Katy in English or push Dolly off the balcony.
“We’re trying to help Dolly grow up,” explained Benj.
Christina abandoned melting. “Why does growing up in this household always mean you can’t do the things you like to do?” said Christina. “Dolly likes to read, so why can’t she read?”
“I suppose the corollary to that,” said Mrs. Shevvington, “is you like to burn your clothing, so why can’t you burn your clothing?”
Christina hurled all five of the library books straight at Mrs. Shevvington. None of them missed.
Chapter 15
A ND SO CHRISTINA LOST her Saturday privileges again. While the others went out, she was forced to stay inside. It snowed all day: a light, friendly snow, the kind you turned your face up into and held out your tongue to collect a flake from the sky.
Mr. Shevvington went to the school, where he said he would be all day. He took his
So the following day, Christina checked out five books from Dolly’s list and brought them home. It was near supper. Everybody was there. Mr. and Mrs. Shevvington, Michael, and Benj. You could not count Anya anymore. She seemed to occupy no space. Hardly more than air.
“Here are your books, Dolly,” Christina said. “Hope these are good enough. The librarian had to substitute one.”
Everybody stared at Christina.
“Christina,” said Mr. Shevvington, “I don’t know how much farther this can go. You know perfectly well we are trying to wean Dolly from her obsession with fictional characters. You know we are struggling to get her to dance and have friends over to play, instead of curling up with escape stories. And here you are, undermining our decisions, boldly and blatantly marching in here with the forbidden objects.”
Christina said, “Since when do high school principals and English teachers forbid a kid to read books?”
Michael whirled on Christina. “Since they have gotten concerned for her health, Christina. You think we want Dolly to be some nut case like you or Anya?”
But I’m the good guy! Christina thought.
“She was always spoiled,” Michael said. “The Shevvingtons are good for her. If you’d ever follow their rules, they’d be good for you, too.”
What did Michael see, upstairs at night? Did he see happy, funny Dolly? Did he not notice that Dolly was afraid of more and more things every day? Did he not think that when his little sister was even afraid of frost on the windows there was something radically wrong? “She’s your sister!” cried Christina. “Put her first.”
Michael said very quietly, “Do you ever put me first? How many of my games have you come to since the season started, Chrissie? You and I used to be really good friends. Do you even know whether I’m a starter or whether I warm the bench? Do you know how many points I’m averaging each game? Do you know who we’re playing next Friday? Have you ever brought my own sister to see me play?”
Christina flinched. While I was busy trying to be a savior, she thought, Michael stepped out of my mind like a stranger out of a bus.
“On the cupola of Schooner Inne,” said Mr. Shevvington, the Perfect Principal, “is a weathervane. A copper fish. Frozen in place. No matter how the wind blows, he points the same way.” Mr. Shevvington looked sadly at Christina. “No matter how the wind blows, Christina, you point only at Mrs. Shevvington and me. It’s time to melt, Christina.”
Michael and Benjamin and Dolly Jaye nodded.
Anya floated, unhearing.
Dolly slipped into a chair. She was small enough that her feet did not touch the floor, and she swung them a little, like a toddler.
There was ice in Christina’s heart, put there by the betrayals of her parents and friends. If she melted that ice, people would be her friends again. But if she ceased to fight the Shevvingtons, nobody would fight them. They would win forever and ever, whether they wanted to humiliate Katy in English or push Dolly off the balcony.
“We’re trying to help Dolly grow up,” explained Benj.
Christina abandoned melting. “Why does growing up in this household always mean you can’t do the things you like to do?” said Christina. “Dolly likes to read, so why can’t she read?”
“I suppose the corollary to that,” said Mrs. Shevvington, “is you like to burn your clothing, so why can’t you burn your clothing?”
Christina hurled all five of the library books straight at Mrs. Shevvington. None of them missed.
Chapter 15
A ND SO CHRISTINA LOST her Saturday privileges again. While the others went out, she was forced to stay inside. It snowed all day: a light, friendly snow, the kind you turned your face up into and held out your tongue to collect a flake from the sky.
Mr. Shevvington went to the school, where he said he would be all day. He took his
Similar Books
