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Authors: Joan Lowery Nixon

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BOOK: A Place to Belong
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Danny asked, “Is she sick?” and held his breath, waiting for the answer.

“She gets tired easy,” Gussie said. “She has good days and bad days. This just happens to be a bad day.”

“Is it because of us? Did we make her tired?” Danny was suddenly frightened.

“No,” Gussie said. “In fact, every time she talks about you and Peg, she colors up and laughs. You’re good for her. Maybe even better than the ground beef bones in wine that the doctor told her to take.”

The same tonic the doctor had prescribed for Da! Danny shuddered.

“Our Da got sick,” Peg said, “and he died.” Her voice broke, and Danny realized that Peg was as fearful as he.

Gussie made a shooing motion. “No more talk like that.”

Olga, propped up with pillows, greeted them with open arms. Peg ran to her, snuggling both Olga and the kitten, and Danny surprised himself by hesitantly kissing Olga on the forehead.

“Thank you, Danny,” Olga murmured, and smiled at him with such pleasure that Danny jumped back, knowing from the heat in his face that he was blushing.

“I wrote to your mother today,” Olga said. “I knew how anxious she’d be to get news about you. When we go to town we can mail the letter.” She paused and
looked at Danny. “I think it would be nice if you wrote to her, too, and to your brothers and sisters. Don’t you?”

Danny didn’t think so, but he nodded.

“Where is the list of their addresses—the one Mr. MacNair gave you?” Olga asked him.

Danny shoved his hands into the pocket of his jacket. “It’s got to be somewhere,” he said.

“Look upstairs,” Olga said. “You may have tucked it into the chest for safekeeping.”

Danny couldn’t remember putting the list anywhere, and he didn’t want to spend the rest of the afternoon looking for it. It would be too hard to explain to Olga why he couldn’t write the letters yet. “I’ll look for the list later,” he promised. “Right now I think I should go outside and find Mr. Swenson. Maybe I could lend him a hand.”

“All right,” Olga said with a smile. “I know how glad he’ll be to see you.”

Danny took off his school clothes, tried to shake the dust and dirt from them, and slipped into his heavier work clothes. He paused for a moment, wondering if he’d lost that list on purpose because he didn’t want to write the letters. Writing would make it all final. He had to keep believing they’d be a family again, or it wouldn’t come true.

The sun that shone through his bedroom window was already sinking into twilight. He didn’t have time to look for the list. He’d do it after supper.

Danny was no sooner out the kitchen door than Alfrid shouted to him over near the woods. Danny raced to join him, arriving out of breath.

“How would you like to help me collect and tie small branches for kindling and stack them on this sled?” Alfrid asked. “While we’re working you can tell me about school. Do you like your teacher?”

“She’s nice,” Danny panted, slowly catching his breath.
“She asked me to read and said ‘Very good,’ and she lent me a slate until I can get one of my own.”

“I forgot about slates,” Alfrid said. “We’ll make out a list of things you and Peg will need and go into town on Saturday. Now, what about the other boys? Did you make friends?”

Danny stood, a cluster of stout twigs in his hand. “First, could you tell me about Mrs. Swenson?” He felt a chill down his backbone as he asked the question. “Gussie says that Mrs. Swenson tires easily, and you told us that she was—was—I forget the word.”

“Fragile?” Alfrid asked softly.

“Yes. That’s it. Is she very ill?”

Alfrid’s face grew solemn, and he looked right into Danny’s eyes. “Olga’s heart has never been strong,” he said. “She takes the medication the doctor has prescribed, and I make sure that she has the rest she needs.” He paused. “There are flowers that grow like weeds in the sun, and not even a storm can beat them to the ground. Then there are other flowers with pale, delicate petals. They’re often the most beautiful, but they must be sheltered and protected. Olga is like one of those special flowers. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Danny said. He thought at first he did, but as they worked, he realized that Alfrid had really not answered his question. The late sun was warm on their backs, but Danny shivered.

6
 

T
HAT NIGHT
P
EG
went to bed peacefully, a rag doll in one hand, Whiskers in his box next to her trundle bed. In the night she cried out once for Ma, but Danny, stumbling through sleep to wakefulness, heard Olga’s voice soothing and quickly comforting her.

It was Danny who cried, muffling his sobs under the quilt. He missed Ma. He missed Mike. He missed everyone so much it was like a terrible aching sore that burned in his chest.
We’ve got to get together again. We’ve got to
, Danny told himself.
I’ll think as hard as I can until I work out a way
.

He fell asleep and dreamed that Mike was coming toward him. Danny ran to Mike, so happy that his heart was pounding loudly against his ribs, but Mike began to fade and disappear. “Mike! Don’t go away!” Danny called out. “Mike! Where are you?”

“There, there,” a deep voice answered, and a gentle
hand touched his shoulder. “It was just a bad dream, Danny. Everything’s all right. Go back to sleep.”

Danny reached up and grasped Alfrid’s hand, holding it tightly. He’d tell Alfrid about Mike. Alfrid would help him find Mike.… Alfrid’s hand was warm and strong and reassuring. Before he could tell Alfrid anything, Danny was once again asleep.

In the morning, when Danny came downstairs, Olga was preparing breakfast, bustling about the kitchen as though she’d never had a tired spell in her life. Danny sagged with relief. It had been foolish to be afraid.

“Did you find your list of addresses last night?” Olga asked him.

Danny guiltily shook his head. “Maybe it fell out of my pocket at school. I’ll ask Miss Clark if anyone found it.”

Olga patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, dear. If your list doesn’t turn up before Saturday, Katherine Banks surely can get the addresses for you. I know that she or Andrew MacNair has a copy. In the meantime, you can write the letters so they’ll be ready to mail.”

But in that meantime there were many things to do, and Danny pushed the letters from his mind. The next few days fell into a comfortable routine. Danny woke early, helped with the milking, and walked to school with Peg. He began to make friends with the other boys but found himself spending most of his time with Wilmer, who, on the whole, wasn’t a bad sort.

Danny practiced hard for the spelling bee, wishing Laura Lee hadn’t chosen him to be her study partner. Laura Lee’s mother brushed her hair each morning into long sausage curls and tied them up in a cluster with a white ribbon. The bow on the ribbon reminded Danny of a giant moth, and each time Laura Lee shook or nodded
her head, causing the bow to flutter, Danny’s first impulse was to swat it.

Laura Lee blinked her eyes and giggled when she looked at Danny, which made him uncomfortable. He wished there was someone he could ask why Laura Lee acted like that and how to make her stop it. He couldn’t ask Gussie, because she’d only tease. He didn’t need teasing. He needed answers. If Frances or Megan were around, they’d tell him.

He sighed as he thought about his sisters. It wasn’t just for advice that he needed them near. They were family, and he desperately wanted to have his family together again.

But he wanted Alfrid and Olga, too. Olga was kind, and Alfrid—well, Alfrid really listened to what Danny had to say and seemed to care about it. He was strong and gentle, loving and firm, everything a father should be. Each afternoon Danny would rush home from school and into his work clothes to help Alfrid with whatever needed to be done. Danny loved the farm chores, but most of all he loved being with Alfrid.

Gussie teased him. “You’re a regular tagalong. You stay right on the mister’s heels the same way Whiskers follows Peg.”

But Danny didn’t mind what Gussie said. “Mr. Swenson needs me,” he answered proudly, content because he knew it was true.

On Saturday morning, excited about the trip to St. Joseph, Danny woke up before daylight. It was hard to choke down his breakfast and even harder to wait for the others to get ready. He couldn’t wait to see Katherine Banks, who owned a general store in town. She had been so kind to all the children who had traveled to St. Joe from New York.

As though she were reading his thoughts, Olga said,
“Don’t forget now, Danny. While we’re in town, ask Mrs. Banks for the addresses you need.”

“I won’t forget!” Danny answered.

“I’ll give you some envelopes,” she said. “Have you written all the letters?”

“The letters?” Danny gulped. “With all I was doing, they sort of slipped my mind.” He turned to Olga, who was watching him. “Once I get the addresses, I’ll sit down and write all the letters. I promise.”

“I know you miss your brothers and sisters,” Olga said. “I don’t understand why you don’t write to them.”

Danny shrugged. He didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to write, and he certainly hoped that the others would want to write to him. He’d like to tell Mike all about Alfrid and to let Frances and Megan know how gentle and kind Olga was. And Ma—he missed her more than she could know, and he wanted to tell her so, but putting words on paper was so final! If he wrote about his life on the Swensons’ farm, once the words were written, they would make it all come true. The Kellys would be scattered, leading separate lives, and couldn’t be back together again as a family. But they had to be together. Danny wouldn’t allow himself to think for one minute that he couldn’t someday make it happen. All he needed was to work out the right plan.

Alfrid came into the kitchen, tugging at his gloves and stamping his feet on the mat. “Everyone ready?” he asked. “The horses don’t like waiting.”

Neither did Danny. Letters forgotten, he made a dash for the buggy.

Alfrid hitched the buggy in front of Katherine’s store. He held out a hand to help Olga down, but she paused, tilting her head up to peer over the crowd that had gathered near the corner. Danny stared, too. He couldn’t see the men who were shouting, but he heard their
voices yelling angry insults. The argument was over slavery, and it was getting louder. Someone in the crowd shoved someone else. Was there going to be a fight?

“Come quickly now,” Alfrid said as he lifted Olga to the ground and reached for Peg. “Get inside the store.”

Olga’s eyes widened and her face became pale as she held tightly to her husband’s arm. “Alfrid, last time we saw an argument on the street, one of the men had a gun, and someone was hurt.”

“All the more reason to hurry,” Alfrid said.

Suddenly a tall, muscular man on horseback plowed through the crowd, and people jumped back, scrambling out of the horse’s path.

“It’s Andrew!” Danny exclaimed. “Andrew MacNair!”

“This is a civilized town,” Andrew shouted at the men. “Take your brawls somewhere else! Get out of here! Now!”

The crowd broke up, some of the men grumbling, some of them strolling off as though they’d already lost interest in what had happened.

A stocky, well-dressed man hurried toward them. He rushed up to Alfrid, stopping only to tip his broad-brimmed felt hat to Olga before his words tumbled out. “We’re planning a series of meetings,” he said. “Our only hope is to try to educate every citizen against slavery. We must convince them of what is right, or the entire country will surely be headed for a civil war.”

“War?” Danny gasped.

But the man paid no attention to Danny. “Alfrid, you’re a man who likes to have time to cogitate,” he continued, “but we have little time. We’ve contacted that famous political lecturer, Ralph Waldo Emerson. He’s agreed to come to St. Joe to address us, and we’re lining up other speakers. Will you come to the meetings? We need your support!”

“You have it,” Alfrid said. “I’ve never had even a moment of doubt that slavery was wrong.”

“Good.” The man let out a sigh. “Well call a meeting soon. We’ll meet in the assembly hall over near the wharves, and I’ll let you know the date as soon as it’s set.”

With another quick nod to Olga, the man hurried on his way.

Olga spoke in a low voice. “Attending those meetings could be very dangerous, Alfrid.”

“It would be even more dangerous to do nothing,” Alfrid said. “We have no choice but to stand up for our convictions.”

Danny looked back to the street, hoping to see Andrew, but he was now out of sight. Andrew had been brave to charge that crowd. Alfrid was brave, too, and Danny was proud of him. He moved a little closer to Alfrid.”

“When are we going to see Katherine?” Peg asked.

“Right now,” Alfrid said, and holding Olga’s elbow gently, he led the way into Katherine’s store.

It was a busy place. Clusters of people were gossiping about what had happened on the street and examining the goods for sale. A clerk was rapidly tying up packages behind the counter, and Katherine was measuring off yards of striped cotton ticking for one of her customers.

She stopped when she saw Danny and Peg, stooping to give them each a hug.

BOOK: A Place to Belong
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