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“Well? Well? What do you think?”

“Sh!” But then she said, “Go away till I'm finished.”

So I went and got
Little House on the Prairie
and I tried to pay attention to Mary and Laura finding all the beads, but for the second time in my life I couldn't concentrate. My thoughts kept going to Cassandra Jovanovich. What if she hated my play? That would be tragical!

Finally she looked up.

“It's pretty good.”

I felt all electric inside. Then I tried again to convince her to be the princess.

“SILENCE! How DARE you question ME you stupid TOAD?! I'LL teach you to open your mouth in MY presence! I'LL cut you up into little pieces and eat YOU for SUPPER!”

I stared at Cassandra.

“See? I'd be a great evil witch,” she said.

I thought about her yelling like that at Paula or Susan or Debbie Oldman and I agreed she could be the evil witch.

“Why don't you be the beautiful princess?” she asked.

I remembered the time Mr. Morgan suddenly decided that we all had to recite a poem in front of the whole class instead of just to him privately and how I got hot and sweaty and heard this buzzing in my ears and how I forgot the very first line and everyone just stared at me.

“Oh, I couldn't. I … I just like writing.”

“Then you're the director. You have to tell everybody what to do.”

I liked that.

So we went outside to my trees in the backyard, and we talked about what to do next. Cassandra knew a lot.

“First we figure out who gets to be in the play.”

So we went calling on other kids to ask them to join the play. Linda said she'd be the handsome prince, but only if Nancy was the beautiful princess. We said that was okay because Nancy is very pretty and has long black hair just
like Snow White, and Linda is tall and thin with hardly any hair at all. Nancy said okay, too, but she wasn't going to play doctor if Linda tried that again.

By the time we got to Paula she'd heard about our play from Linda already and said she didn't want to be in our stupid play if she couldn't be the beautiful princess. How presumptuous!

Cassandra smiled at her.

“But we want you to be the witch's pet toad. You'd be just right.”

Paula shrieked. “Do you know who I am, you stupid orphan? I can have you killed!”

“I know all about you, Paula. And I'm going to pay Ronnie and Donnie a whole dollar to beat you up once and for all!”

Paula ran away.

Cassandra laughed. “Let's ask Ronnie and Donnie to be my pet spider and toad. I bet they'd like that. Then they'd be our friends.”

On the way to their house, we saw Laura Butterfield. She was sitting outside by herself and I showed her Cassandra Jovanovich.

Cassandra sat down. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and smiled at Laura.

“I want you to be in our play. I want you to be the
beautiful flower fairy who helps the beautiful princess,” Cassandra told her.

I'd never thought of this. But now I looked at Laura and knew this was just right. Very appropriate. She was tiny and pale with long skinny arms and legs and lots of long blond hair that was almost white. She looked just like a fairy in a picture book.

Laura smiled and I could see where the new tooth was growing in. We asked her to come with us.

We all went to Debbie Walker's house and she said she'd be the beautiful princess's best friend and she said her dog, Tinkerbell, should be the fire-breathing dragon in one scene and the magic horse at the end.

Then we all went to Ronnie and Donnie's house. I couldn't believe Cassandra was doing this, but she did. She went right up to the door and banged. Both of them came outside.

“Paula wants you to beat me up, but I want you to be in our play. I'm going to be the evil witch and I need a toad and a spider.”

Ronnie and Donnie didn't say anything. They just stood staring at Cassandra, which wasn't very considerate or appropriate, considering Cassandra was new.

And then Laura Butterfield stepped forward.

“Please,” she whispered. And she looked so fairy-like
that I could tell Cassandra had picked the right person. And just like that, Ronnie and Donnie agreed to be in the play.

Everyone said they'd come to my backyard as soon as they told their moms.

And on the way home, I remembered something.

“What happened at Kathy's? I mean, I saw her call on you this morning. So I know you went out with her. But then you came home. Did you …”
(Oh, hope against hope!)
“Did you have a fight?”

“I don't like her,” said Cassandra Jovanovich. (
Yes
!)

“She's bossy,” said Cassandra. (
Yes
!)

“She wanted to play go-go dancers. She put on some music and we pretended to be go-go-dancers, but she wanted to be in front and she told me to stay behind her and just follow her. So I told her she was a dumb dancer.”

(Oh, be still my beating heart!)

“Then she said I was a dumb orphan. So I left.”

I knew I shouldn't feel happy that Kathy hurt Cassandra's feelings, but I couldn't help feeling a little bit of a thrill. But I said, “I'm sorry she said that. She's mean now. She didn't used to be. She was always bossy. She always told me I was wrong about everything. Like the time I told her Julie Andrews is my favorite actress, but she said
Mary Poppins
was a movie for babies.”

Cassandra Jovanovich stopped walking and I banged into her. “I love
Mary Poppinsl
” she said. “I've seen it three times!”

I knew it. I knew it in my heart of hearts Cassandra was destined to be my kindred spirit!

“I saw the beer mugs. You were right. They're ewww.”

And then we were at my backyard.

We worked on the play all week. But on Sunday, I had to go to church.

We go to church every Sunday. I have a bath every Saturday night to make sure I am clean enough. My mother says God doesn't like dirty little girls. I wonder if this means God doesn't like Paula. She goes to church, too, but a different one. I wonder if the God there minds that she smells.

I have to wear my best dress and my hat. Now that I am eleven, I don't have to wear the hat with the elastic that pinches under my chin.

“I am too grown up for that hat,” I told my mother. “It isn't appropriate.”

My mother just sniffed.

I also have to wear my best shoes. They fit okay in September when we buy them, but they always hurt my toes by April. All of the pictures that my mother takes of me are taken outside on Sundays when I am clean and dressed up. She always says to smile and I do, but if there are daffodils in the picture then I know it's spring and my shoes are hurting and my smile is fake. By July I have to walk on the backs of my shoes until September.

We drive to church every Sunday and we always leave at 10:15 sharp so my father can find a parking spot and not say bad words. When my father says bad words my mother glares at him but I bet she doesn't wallop his beee-hind.

I have to sit with my parents in our pew for the first few minutes of the service. Then the minister calls the children to the front and lets us all go to Sunday School. I like Sunday School. I didn't before, but that was before Mrs. McMillan became our new teacher. I think Mrs. McMillan is just like Anne Shirley's Mrs. Allan. She's pretty and sweet and she explains lots of things to us and always has cookies and juice.

“She makes the Bible fun,” I told my mother. “Mrs. McMillan says the Bible is all about real people and real stories, just told in the funny way of talking they had back then.”

Sniff
. “Mrs. McMillan shouldn't say such nonsense,” my mother scolds.

Usually we stay in the Sunday School room the whole time, but sometimes we come back into the Sanctuary when babies are getting baptized. Then we sing the baptismal hymn and we all look at this girl in our class named Sharon when we get to the line about Sharon's dewy nose and we wipe at our noses. But Mrs. McMillan told us it's really Sharon's dewy
rose
and means the plant called the Rose of Sharon. I like it that Mrs. McMillan explained this, but baptisms aren't as fun anymore, now that we can't tease Sharon. Well, it's still fun if the baby cries lots when the minister drops the water on its head.

I wondered about all of this water stuff so I looked up
baptism
in the dictionary. It means “to immerse in water.” Some churches make you get right into the water, but not as a baby. When you're older. Not everybody wants to go for a swim in church so our church just puts drops of water on your head. I like this better because I wouldn't want strangers seeing me in my bathing suit. And besides, it seems inappropriate to be almost bare-naked in church. Mrs. McMillan explained that the drops of water were a symbol of getting right in the water and that getting right in the water was a symbol that you were being cleansed or purified. Without soap. Mrs. McMillan said it was a rebirth.
But
rebirth
doesn't mean coming out of your mother's tummy again. I think it means your personality changes. Maybe you become a better person.

“I can think of lots of people who should be reborn,” I said to Mrs. McMillan. But she said that was inappropriate of me. I was getting tired of finding out I was inappropriate.

So baptisms are fun and as soon as they're over we get to go back to Sunday School. Usually there's a tea after church and the new parents bring in lots of cake and cookies.

One day when all of us were eating second and third helpings of everything, I heard the new mother say to Mrs. Kirkstone that her child would certainly never be a little pig like all of us. Ha! How presumptuous of her! Just wait until her little Elizabeth Victoria Margaret is our age and has to sit through sermons without moving. It makes you ravenous, let me tell you! (I looked up
ravenous
and it means the same as
rapacious
, which means that you are “accustomed to plundering,” which means “seizing violent possession of something that isn't yours.” Sometimes the boys plunder the cookies at these teas, so maybe the new mother is right.)

Sometimes we have a special church service. The thing I hate most about a special church service is we have to sit in our pews for the whole time. We don't get to leave and go
to Sunday School with Mrs. McMillan. I have to sit very still for the whole hour and twenty minutes or my mother jabs her elbow into me. I have learned how to sit very still. I make up stories while the minister is talking. Once I made up a story that I was Lot's wife, turned to stone and unable to move, just like in the Bible. I did such a good job that I fell asleep and my mother jabbed me to wake me up. I had to go to my room when I got home. I don't think this was fair because I was thinking about the Bible the whole time.

Our pew is almost at the back of the church. I don't know why ours is at the back, but we have to sit there every Sunday or someone might glare at us. We all have to sit in our own pews. Once a new family sat down in Mrs. Kirkstone's pew. Mrs. Kirkstone stood there staring at this family until they figured out they had done something wrong and squeezed over. The next Sunday they sat behind Mrs. Kirkstone and they were stared at by the fox's eyes in the fox stole Mrs. Kirkstone wears around her neck. I think she arranged the fox head on purpose to make sure the eyes were on the new family. The Sunday after that, they moved to the other side of the church where the fox couldn't see them.

On the Sunday after Cassandra moved in, I told Mrs. McMillan all about how Anne of Green Gables liked going to Sunday School just like I do now with Mrs. McMillan
to teach us. Mrs. McMillan said she had a surprise for me. After church was let out, she led me up to the Sanctuary part. Everyone was outside talking and we were alone. She showed me the glass case at the back. I had seen it lots of times but I never looked at it much because it was full of old papers. Mrs. McMillan showed me a letter. It was old and it was signed L.M. Montgomery. What was this?!

Mrs. McMillan told me that years ago, L.M. Montgomery's husband, who was a minister, spent a couple of weeks at our church in the summer when the regular minister was on holiday. She told me that L.M. Montgomery sat right there – and she pointed right there – for two Sundays in the pew saved for the minister's family.

I couldn't believe this. L.M. Montgomery in my church! I got all shivery, but this time I knew why.

I walked over to the minister's pew and sat down. I pretended I was L.M. Montgomery. I looked around me and pretended I was a famous author. I wondered what she had thought about. I wondered if she had paid attention to every word her husband said. But then I remembered that Anne Shirley liked to look out the window at the beautiful trees and flowers when the minister was talking, so I figured L.M. Montgomery was a lot like me and could make herself sit still by making up stories in her head.

I wondered if I sat there long enough, would I make up
stories like her? Then I realized that my bum was sitting right where L.M. Montgomery's bum had been. I wondered if she thought the pew was as hard as I did.

I wanted to tell Cassandra Jovanovich all about all this. So as soon as I got home, I ran next door.

“Cassie can't play with you today, Lee,” said Mrs. Fergus.

“Why not? Where is she? Did she go to Kath –“

“Not that it is any of your business, Miss Mets, but Cassie has been sent to her room. She has behaved inappropriately.”

Well! I knew all about that sort of thing!

So I went home. I helped my mother make supper (we always have a whole chicken for Sunday supper), and I waited and watched for Cassandra Jovanovich to come outside.

And when I saw Mr. and Mrs. Fergus drive away (they always play bridge on Sunday night), I snuck out.

I didn't go to the front door. Somebody's mother would surely see me and tell. I went into my backyard and climbed over the fence and snuck up to Cassandra Jovanovich's bedroom window. It was open, but I didn't want to call out, so I threw a pebble at it.