Patricia (7 page)

Amelia looked after him with a hard, determined glitter in her eyes and her lips set in a stubborn way that did not mean George's victory would be an easy one. But she knew that her former tactics would no longer work as they had been working of late, at least not on those subjects upon which he had declared himself. She must by guile work her will some other way. So it was that when the matter of the spring picnic of the junior class in high school came up for discussion, she knew her time had come to spring some new method on her family.

The spring picnic of the junior class was an annual event. It marked the appearance of the class, as a class, into the official program of the new year. It was the first recognition of the school that a new class of seniors was about to step upon the carpet. That a fresh group of young people was about to enter upon that serious business of being seniors and undergo the final polishing of their educations preparatory to stepping out into the world to begin life. It was in their minds a most important occasion and had been talked about with great enthusiasm ever since the Christmas holiday.

Patricia had taken little or no part in all these discussions, knowing not whether she would be permitted to attend. So far she had not been counted in on their festivities, because almost always she had had to say that she couldn't come out evenings or her mother had something else planned for her. These admissions were always made with lowered head and averted eyes, humility in all her bearing. They had been the one great trial of her school days.

So when her father told her the next morning after his talk with Amelia that she was to feel free to attend everything that went on, if she wished, a great radiance came into her face, and she trod as it were on air on her way to school. And when she announced to her closest friends that she was coming to their meeting and going to the picnic and the play and all the doings of the class, there was great rejoicing, for Patricia was a favorite, and not one of them considered her a dummy or a flat tire or any of the other derogatives current at the time. They put the blame where blame should be, on a mistaken family whose word was law.

So Patricia, with great joy, began to tread the normal path of a high school junior and to make her pleasant plans for the different events. And not the least among them all was the class picnic.

It was an all-day affair in the woods, with games and fully planned amusements. Patricia entered into it as she had scarcely ever entered into anything since her very little girlhood, and her father rejoiced to see her bright eyes and sparkling face. He felt condemned that he had not sooner asserted his will and gained her freedom from the constant home surveillance of class prejudice.

When her mother first heard of the picnic, she cast a withering glance at her daughter and exclaimed in a cross between a snort and a hiss, “A picnic!” As if the event in question might have been something in the nature of a scorpion or other deadly beast.

Patricia was engaged in telling her father some of the delightful plans, with eager eyes and a voice full of throbs, and did not notice her mother. The father looked up with a quick warning glance that stopped Patricia in the middle of her sentence, but unfortunately it also reminded Amelia that she must invent new methods immediately. So she set her lips thinly and went out of the room, where she would not be expected to enter into the talk at all. But she did not go so far that she would be out of hearing.

It was thus Amelia first learned that her child was prominent in the plans and discovered that a most unattractive young boy from a side street in the village was associated with her in preparing certain lists and posters, and two girls whose fathers were anything but prominent citizens were on the same committee with her. When these facts first came to light in Patricia's eager talk with her father, the mother almost forgot her new resolves and started into the other room to make a wild protest. Then something she heard her husband say warned her that she would get nowhere with him that way and sent her back to make other subtle plans. And the next morning, after Patricia had gone to school, she hurried over to her friend Mrs. Bellingham to have a friendly visit with her and incidentally discover what day Thorny's school closed and when he would be coming home.

But Patricia went happily on her way, greatly relieved that her mother was not interfering.

Later that day, Mrs. Prentiss dictated a letter to Thorny.

Dear Thornton:

Your mother tells me that you are coming home somewhere near the fifteenth of May, and I'm wondering if you would mind helping me out with something that is worrying me.

Patricia's school is having a picnic on that Saturday, and they seem to think it is quite important that she attend. We haven't encouraged her attendance at such affairs, of course, but she thinks it is a duty this time.

You will understand, of course, that I shrink from sending her into the woods without some proper person to look after her, and there would be naturally no one in her class whom I would feel like calling upon. So I am wondering if it would be possible for you to go with her and keep an eye on her. There are so many possibilities in the wilds of the woods. I am sure you will understand how I feel and how grateful I shall be if an old friend of Patricia's can spare the time to attend her.

But whether you find it possible to do this or not, may I ask you to keep the whole thing to yourself, for Patricia is very proud and would, I am afraid, be hurt that I felt someone must attend her, so I am trusting to your courtesy not to tell her.

Thanking you in advance for your trouble, and hoping this will not be a burden to you,

Very sincerely,

Amelia H. Prentiss

In a few days there came a response from Thorny.

Dear Mrs. Prentiss:

O.K.! I get you! I'll be on hand if possible.

Yours,

Thorny

Mrs. Prentiss, with a little shudder over the form of expression, hastily destroyed Thorny's note, and with a relieved look on her face went forward with her plans. She surprised her daughter greatly by seeming to enter into all her preparations for the picnic, suggesting chicken salad and angel food cake for the lunch baskets and offering to prepare a basket herself. Patricia was so happy her face was fairly radiant. It seemed to her that heaven had smiled upon her at last and her mother was doing all the beautiful things she had always wished she would do. She was a forgiving little soul and utterly ready to forget all the unpleasantness of the past.
Mother hadn't understood before perhaps,
she thought. Now she understood. It was going to be a wonderful year, this her last year in high school. Daddy had made Mother understand that.

“We might have the gardener carry down a freezer of ice cream for you,” suggested her mother. “I suppose they really expect you to do something pretty nice for them, since you are probably in better circumstances than anyone else in the class.”

“Oh no, Mother, thank you!” said the girl, shrinking from the thought. “I wouldn't like to do anything like that. They would think I was proud. No, everybody has a part in this. We take up a collection of things like ice cream. I couldn't do a thing like that!”

“Nonsense! That's ridiculous!” said her mother sharply. “I think you really ought to do something like that. I'm sure your father would be entirely willing to get the ice cream or anything you wanted to give them.”

“But no, Mother, you do not understand. They would not like it. I am just one of them.”

No, she didn't understand. It was ridiculous for common people to have sensitive feelings like that, and she didn't believe children of common parents felt that way at all. However, Mrs. Prentiss did realize that if she was to carry her point it must be done subtly, quietly, so she put aside her suggestions and let her daughter have her way.

There was another clash of both tastes and wills, when it came to a matter of what Patricia should wear on the eventful day. Patricia had selected a plain little chintz dress with small blue flowers sprigged over it, corded with blue. Her mother, mindful of the young escort who was to arrive “unexpectedly,” wanted her to wear an elaborate pink dimity with lace ruffles and a flowered ribbon sash, or else a smocked white silk with pink ribbons, but Patricia utterly refused both even to the verge of tears.

“No, Mother! It wouldn't be good taste. Not for the woods!” she protested. “All the girls will wear gingham or chintz. We couldn't have a good time in the woods dressed up in silk and lace ruffles. I want to be free to sit down on the grass or a log and not have to look after my clothes.”

“But, dear, you could take a rug along to sit down on,” pleaded her mother.

“I don't want to be hampered with a lot of baggage,” said the girl stormily. “I've got to be like the others or I don't want to go.”

“Well, I can't understand why you want to go anyway,” said her mother with a sigh. “Of course you're not like the others, and I don't see why you want to imitate them. I should think you would like to show them what pretty things you have. Things they seldom have the opportunity to see, you know. It might be a real pleasure to them.”

The child looked at her mother in astonishment.

“Why, Mother, they all have pretty things, just as pretty as mine, but they don't wear them in the woods. I can't see why you think they are any different from us. They all have nice homes and always look pretty wherever they go. I wish you'd come to school sometime and see them. I'm sure you would get a different idea of them. They are lovely girls and boys.”

“No!” said her mother sharply. “I don't care to see them. I know where some of them live, and that is enough. Little back streets and two-story houses. No, I don't wish to go to that school at all. I don't want my friends to think I am in sympathy with your going there. I suppose I may have to go when you graduate,
if
you graduate there, though I'm not even sure I'll be willing to do that, unless it is to show how glad I am that you are done with them all.”

“Oh Mother!”

“Now don't ‘Oh-Mother' me! I'm sure it's enough that I'm willing for you to go to this terrible picnic, without your trying to force me into that obnoxious school. All right, wear a calico dress if you insist. I'm sure I hope none of my friends have to see you on the way. But you may as well have your own way for this once. Perhaps you'll learn reason after a while. I'm sure I hope so.”

So the days went by and there was no more discussion about the dress or the plans. The only thing that surprised Patricia was that her mother took such a deep interest in the lunch she was to carry. She even went to the city and bought a lovely new lunch basket. If Patricia had known who was expected to carry that basket, she would have been in utter despair.

Patricia was just starting out the door when Thorny arrived. She gave a little gasp when she saw him.

“Oh,” she said as he came smiling up the steps with his usual “Hello, Pitty-Pat!”

“Oh, I'm sorry! But I have to go away today, Thorny.”

“Yes, I know,” said Thorny indulgently. “I heard you had a picnic, and I got here just in time to carry your basket, didn't I?” He reached over and took firm possession of the new basket.

The girl gave a despairing look at it and hung on.

“Oh, no thank you!” she said. “I'm carrying this myself. It's not at all heavy. And of course I couldn't take you with me anyway. This is a class event and positively no one else is invited.”

“Oh, that won't bother me a little bit,” said Thorny, holding on to the basket. “I'm great on crashing parties. Got it down fine. They never question me at all. You see, they're always glad to get me, I'm so good-looking!” Thorny's air was inimitable. Three of the high school girls who had stopped for Patricia giggled admiringly, but Patricia herself looked stricken. Besides, she hated his frank conceit. Even if it was a common joke with him that he was good-looking, it never seemed funny to her. She couldn't bear to have him accept it as if he knew it and presume upon it. And she couldn't have this one perfect day, the first really independent school frolic, spoiled by having Thorny along.

“But really, Thorny, we voted not to have anyone outside the class along. Not even any seniors! You can't go, Thorny!
Positively!
”

“My dear, never say can't to me!” said Thorny, shaking an impressive finger in her face. “Can't is only a stimulus to my ego. I'm a crasher by nature, and I like nothing better than to crash in where I'm not wanted. But I'm not anticipating much trouble here. My native town. These hicks wouldn't dare say me nay. Come along, Pitty-Pat, and we'll paint the town red. That's all right, Mrs. Prentiss. I'll look out for your child. You don't need to worry!”

He waved a jovial hand to Mrs. Prentiss, who appeared suddenly at the door, smiling.

“Oh, is that you, Thorny? How nice. I wasn't sure you were home yet. Now I shall be relieved. I'm so glad you are going to the picnic. Now I shall not have to worry about Patricia. I always think there are so many dangers in the woods, things like snakes and tarantulas. It is so good to have a nice boy along!”

She cast a withering glance toward the three high school girls.

Patricia was almost in tears. Her day was spoiled! And what could she do? She walked with downcast eyes, ashamed before her school friends, hurrying out to the sidewalk where another group was gathered waiting for her to come. It was useless for her to try to get rid of Thorny while her mother was around. Oh, if only her father had not gone to the city that morning! He would have understood, and he would have done something to help her out of this dilemma! She tried to think rapidly what she could do. It wouldn't do to set the other boys on Thorny; that would only precipitate a big fight, for the high school boys would delight to put Thorny in his place. Whatever she did must be done with as much courtesy as possible. But she waited until she was down the walk and out on the street before she attempted anything. Then, safely behind the sheltering hedge, she greeted her schoolmates as cheerfully as she could in her tense state of mind and, turning to Thorny who was walking by her side, she said pleasantly, “Now, I'll take my basket, please, and thank you for bringing it down so far. Sorry we can't invite you to go with us, but this is strictly a class event, you understand.”