The Middle Moffat (19 page)

"I should think that eclipse would begin now," said Jane, stamping up and down. Ouch! Her feet were getting so cold! Why couldn't the sun eclipse now so they could go home? They were ready. The sun was ready. Everything was ready. Here they were at Gooseneck Point with smoked glass. Supposing the papers had gotten the day wrong. If they had, all those famous scientists who had come from the ends of the earth would be pretty angry.

"Begin, eclipse!" Jane shouted.

This made Nancy laugh and startled the seagulls into circling around.

"Begin, eclipse," they both shouted. They waved their arms and even the little dog barked and wagged his tail.

But then everybody fell silent again. In the middle of winter this really was no place for hilarity. Different from the summer time when there were picnics, laughing, and swimming on this Point. But now it was too lonesome. The seagulls settled morosely down again, and the little dog stood with bent head, and eyes turned in the direction of the watchman's house.

Well, surely it must be time now. Jane and Nancy stared at the sun. Was it beginning? Was this thin shadow on the edge of the sun the beginning?

"It's beginning! It's beginning!" shouted Nancy.

"Beginning..." echoed Jane.

She saw it, too. She saw the eclipse. She saw it and she knew she was seeing it! The shadow grew larger and larger. Now the sun looked as though someone had bitten a chunk out of it. Now it was half covered and the light was strange and dim. Slowly the moon spread its shadow across the sun and finally the sun was blotted out entirely. Eclipse of the sun! That's what that was.

"Now there's the corona," said Nancy. "Just like the teachers said."

"M-m-m," said Jane. "But I thought it was going to be red."

Still, red or not, she saw the corona. She saw the eclipse and she saw the corona. So far she had not missed any of it. Jane wondered if the lady in the moon felt happy to be blotting out the big sun for once.
It's good she does this once in a while,
Jane thought.
Otherwise who would know the sun had a corona to it?

But now the sun was coming out on the other side. Soon there it was, all whole again. The eclipse of the sun was over! It did not last awfully long. Jane hoped all those scientists and astronomers who had come from the ends of the earth would not be disappointed. She was glad it was over now though, for her feet were so cold!

"Well," said Nancy. "Come on, pup! We'll give you a good dinner. That's what you need."

The little dog shook himself hard, as though he had just had a bath or come in from a swim. Then, giving a sudden lurch, he broke loose. With his rope dangling behind him he bounded down the sandbar. When he had almost reached the watchman's house he turned around and barked gaily at the two girls.

"Oh," exclaimed Jane, "I bet he's the watchman's dog."

"Oh, of course," said Nancy. And at this moment the watchman came out of his house and whistled. "That's just who he does belong to. He does need a bath, though."

Then the two girls burst out laughing. Now that the eclipse was over it felt all right, good in fact, to laugh. Supposing they had taken the dog home, bathed and fed him, and all the while he belonged right here. Then they would have missed the eclipse all for nothing, the eclipse that people had come across the earth to see.

They turned and left Gooseneck Point. Jane sighed. The eclipse of the sun was over and they hadn't missed any of it. They hadn't had to bathe a dog. When the Moffats were all sitting around the table that night, they would all talk about it, and she would have seen every bit of it! And from what a place! Gooseneck Point. With no paraphernalia, but still, like the scientists, she had gone to the eclipse. She had not just watched it from her own front yard.

"O-o-o-h, come on!" said Nancy. "I'm so hungry."

"Me, too. And ouch! My chilblains hurt!" said Jane. And they hurried home.

When the new parish house was built, there was a splendid gymnasium added to it. Sometimes when Janey was sitting on the Green, resting from a hike up on Shingle Hill and watching the ants, she could hear the junior girls' basketball team practicing. She could hear the umpire's shrill whistle, the yelling and shouting and stamping of the players, and the ball bouncing across the floor or banging against the wires. It sounded like a lot of fun. Sometimes Janey thought she should join the basketball team and stop watching the ants.

Here was this lovely new gymnasium with the new plaster smell to it, and none of the Moffats belonged! It seemed too bad. When the new gymnasium was finished, the minister in the pulpit had said:

"The gymnasium belongs to you. To all of you. Use it and rejoice that we now have such a splendid gymnasium for our young people."

Whenever Janey saw the minister, she felt self-conscious to think that none of the Moffats, not one of them, belonged to the gymnasium. He would think the Moffats did not appreciate it. They all four belonged to the library, all four went to school, went to Sunday School, and dancing school, too, except Rufus. Yet none of them belonged to the gymnasium. Well, as for Sylvie, she simply did not have the time, that was all there was to that—graduating in June, practicing her solos, her dancing and singing. And Joey! He was so busy, too. He was always having to deliver papers, take care of furnaces, sift ashes, and mow lawns. When would they have the time for the new gymnasium? As for Rufus, he was too little. Besides, right now very likely you couldn't tear him away from his and Joey's wireless set. That left her, Jane, the middle Moffat. If she joined, that would make one out of four at least. She should join.

"...A splendid gymnasium for our young people," murmured Jane, remembering the words of the minister.

She, Janey, was one of the young people and she had set foot in the new gymnasium only once, the night of the parish house apple blossom bazaar.

I should join,
she thought. Today was a very warm day in the early spring. She lazily watched a big, black ant pushing and tugging at a mutilated beetle. Now and then from across the Green the wind carried the voices of the high school chorus practicing the graduation music. Sylvie was there. They were singing "Hail, Bright Abode." It was pretty. After a while they began to practice "Alan-a-dale." Jane said to herself again,
I should join. Yes, I should.

There was one drawback. Nancy didn't belong. But Nancy had her music lessons and Jane didn't. To even things up, Janey could join the basketball team. Nancy would go off to practice her music. Janey would go off to practice her basketball. Right now some of the basketball girls had come out onto the Green to rest. They were dressed in white middy blouses and bloomers. They all wore sneakers on their feet.

Janey loved sneakers. She had hers on today, too. She could run like lightning in them and always beat the trolley cars, except the Bridgeport Express. Almost like flying. She didn't have any of those big bloomers. But maybe Mama would make her a pair out of the blue serge skirt she had torn jumping over the back fence.

Should she join? She pondered this question. She considered other sports. At most games of ball she was none too good. She might as well be honest about that. Joey would seldom play ball with her, preferring little Rufus even, unless there was absolutely no one else around. At croquet she was pretty good. She rarely finished first; but also she rarely finished last. Once in a fit of exuberance over having won she had thrown the croquet ball straight up in the air. She looked for it to catch it. She didn't see it and thought she must have thrown it right up into the blue sky where it would probably make a hole and there would be a new sun. Suddenly it came down! Ouch! Right on her head and raised quite a lump. It had staggered her but she had walked off in silent dignity when Rufus said in disgust:

"Oh, Jane! Can't you catch anything?"

Jane had an idea these tremendous basketballs would be easier to catch. You could encircle them with your whole body and hug.

As far as other sports went, she couldn't swim yet but she was going to learn this summer. She could do the dead man's float. She could do it with her eyes open and see the shells and the crabs crawling on the bottom. But she wasn't sure that was a sport. And she was really a wonderful runner and running was good for basketball. A couple of times Janey had watched the basketball team practice in school. They certainly did a lot of running to and fro. Now and then someone seemed to get the ball in the basket. That was good. When someone got the ball in the basket, everybody yelled. Basketball, that's what that was.

I should join.
Jane blissfully pictured herself tossing the ball through the basket as easily as flipping tiddledywinks into the cup. She would win the game and be carried on the other girls' shoulders like the heroes in the Barbour books that Joey was always reading. At the last moment, when her side was losing and the game seemed to be lost, she would slip in sidewise, flip the ball up, and it would fall clean through. The game would be saved, and "Hurrah for Jane Moffat!" everybody would yell. Her side had won, thanks to her cunning.