What the Moon Said (8 page)

“He surely does,” Mrs. Klause agreed. “If I left the picking to him, the rest of us would never see a berry.” But she smiled at her husband. And Esther noticed that Mrs. Klause gave him an extra-big serving of raspberry pie for dessert.

Everyone laughed when Rose licked her dessert plate and got a raspberry stain on her nose. Mrs. Klause kissed Rose's chubby cheek and said, “Now you are for certain the sweetest baby in Wisconsin!”

Watching Mrs. Klause with Rose, Esther felt an actual ache in her heart. Had Ma ever kissed Esther like that? She did not think so.

Esther started to clear the table, but Mrs. Klause shooed her away. “This is your holiday. You girls go and play. I can manage.”

So Esther and Bethany went outside and, swinging their buckets, headed toward the raspberry bushes. They hadn't gone very far when a black cat streaked across the grass in front of them. “A black cat!” Esther gasped, plowing to a stop. “Where did he come from?”

“From our barn,” Bethany said with a laugh. “Dad says Licorice is the best mouser we've ever had.”

Both girls watched as the cat slowed and flattened himself in the grass. He crept forward, closer and closer to something in the grass that only he could see. Esther turned away when the cat pounced.

“Doesn't your father worry about bad luck?” she asked Bethany.

“Nah. He's just happy to have a barn with no mice.”

Esther couldn't believe how calm Bethany was. Didn't she realize that bad luck was heading toward them, ready to pounce like Licorice had just pounced on that poor little creature in the grass? Esther grabbed Bethany's arm. “Come on,” she said. “We have to undo our bad luck—fast!”

Bethany looked startled, but when Esther bolted for the barn, she followed. Only after they plunged into its cool shadows did Esther stop. She blinked until her eyes adjusted to the dim light. Then she scanned the walls.

“What are you looking for?” Bethany wanted to know.

“This!” Esther announced triumphantly. She set down her buckets and darted over to a low shelf where several horseshoes lay. Esther grasped a cool, heavy shoe in one hand and rubbed its ends hard with the other. Then she insisted that Bethany do the same. “There,” she said, setting the shoe down again after Bethany had obeyed. “Now we're protected.”

“But from what?” Bethany asked.

“From whatever bad luck your black cat was going to send us,” Esther explained.

“I don't think Licorice has ever sent anyone bad luck,” Bethany said doubtfully, “but I guess it can't hurt to be careful.” She picked up the buckets Esther had dropped moments before. “Can we go pick raspberries now?”

Esther grinned. “We sure can.” She gave a little skip into the doorway. “Heaps and heaps of raspberries.” She was proud of herself for remembering what Pa had taught her that first week on the farm. For one horrible moment after she had seen the black cat, she had thought that maybe bad luck was meant to be her punishment for disobeying Ma. But because Esther had remembered Pa's lesson, she had chased the bad luck away. Of course, Pa had said the tips of the horseshoe had to be hung pointing up so the good luck didn't fall out. The horseshoe she had found was lying on its side. Maybe the good luck in it wasn't as strong as it should have been . . .

But as quickly as the worry blossomed, Esther cast it away. Even if a teeny bit of luck had spilled out, much more must have stayed inside. And a few minutes later, when she was filling her pails with raspberry after plump raspberry, she was sure of it. This was a perfect day and not even a black cat was going to spoil it.

The girls had a lot to talk about, and the faster they talked, the faster they picked.

“Were there really games at the lake?” Esther asked.

“Yes,” Bethany said. “I'm sorry you couldn't stay. I wanted you for my partner.”

“That would've been
so
much fun,” Esther said, not even trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

“We'll do it next year,” Bethany said, waving off a fat bee that buzzed around their heads.

Esther thought of Ma and squirmed, but she said, “Yes. Next year for sure.”

When their buckets were full, the girls turned cartwheels and tried to do handstands, but the grass was dry and prickly. The sun was hot and the bees kept buzzing overhead. Esther knew they only wanted the berries, but she couldn't help being nervous. Bugs—especially bugs that stung—still frightened her a little, even after her months on the farm. She was glad when Bethany said she was thirsty and suggested they go back to the house.

Mrs. Klause poured them each a tall glass of lemonade. Esther drained the glass, one tangy mouthful after another. She had never tasted lemonade so good. But everything about that day seemed special. She wished it never had to end.

“This is so pretty,” she said when Bethany took her up to her bedroom. Blue flowered wallpaper, white lace curtains, and a blue-and-white quilt made the room bright and cozy. A small white bookcase stood against one wall. Esther hurried over. “Oh! You have
Five Little Peppers,
” she cried. “I loved that story. And you've got all of Louisa May Alcott's books, too!”

Bethany nodded. “Mama got them for me. I haven't read most of them yet.”

Esther was shocked. “Why not? I'd be reading 'til my eyes crossed.” She opened
Jo's Boys.
On the inside of the cover there was flowing handwriting that read,
To My Dear Bethany With Much Love From Mama
.
Esther swallowed hard.

“You can take it home and read it if you want,” Bethany offered.

But Esther put the book back on the shelf and shook her head. “No, I couldn't. I might get it dirty or lose it or something.”

“You wouldn't,” Bethany argued.

But Esther didn't give in, much as she would have loved to. “I really can't. But thanks,” she said. She couldn't tell Bethany that there'd be no way to explain the borrowed book to Ma.

And, she realized with a pang of distress, she couldn't tell Bethany they couldn't be friends anymore, either.

She thought she'd find a way, but being with Bethany again had only made her more certain than ever that Ma was mistaken. Now she had to find a way to prove that to Ma, because she couldn't bear to lose Bethany as a friend.

“I'd better go,” she said reluctantly. “It's getting late.”

“I'll walk a ways with you,” Bethany said.

Esther thanked Mrs. Klause for lunch. Then she set out for home with Bethany at her side. Esther carried one of the buckets of berries. Bethany carried the other. They sang songs as they walked, and they played follow the leader. They took turns deciding whether to strut or walk sideways or backward—whether to carry the buckets in their right hand or their left or even on top of their heads. Bethany walked a long way with Esther, but finally she had to turn and go back home.

She handed her bucket to Esther. With a sad smile she said, “I wish you could come every day.” Then she waved. “See you at church.”

Esther smiled and waved, too, but her heart slid down toward her stomach as she remembered Ma. Was it possible for her to stay friends with Bethany without Ma knowing? She always seemed to know everything. Esther chewed her lip and trudged down the roadside, thinking hard. Sunday school was held away from the parents. That was not the problem. It was before and after that was the trouble. Of course, a lot of people milled around before and after services. Esther might be able to say quick hellos and good-byes to Bethany without Ma noticing. She would just have to be very careful.

Suddenly she thought of Violet. There would be no way to hide the friendship from her. And her older sister might feel it was her duty to tell Ma that Esther was still seeing Bethany. But Esther did not think so. Violet didn't take signs as seriously as Ma did. Esther believed Violet's sympathy would keep her silent.

Esther was not happy with her plan. She didn't like the idea of sneaking behind Ma's back. But the thought of hurting Bethany somehow seemed even worse.

When Esther returned home, Ma praised her for picking so many berries. Esther could barely meet her mother's eyes. Ma could read so many signs. Could she see on Esther's face that she had deceived her? Esther's cheeks burned at the thought. But all Ma said was, “Next time remember to wear a hat. Your face is red from the sun.” She even rested her cool, rough hand against Esther's cheek for a moment.

Esther nodded because she could not speak. She was too ashamed. How could she go on lying to Ma? But if she didn't, how could she tell Bethany that Ma said she was marked? Esther didn't know if she would ever be able to decide which was worse. If only Julia would hurry and answer her letter. Esther needed some good advice.

Surprisingly, there was word from Julia that very night, but not what anyone expected. The family had just finished supper when they heard Mickey barking. A few moments later a car door slammed. They all looked at one another in surprise. Who could it be? Pa rose and went to the screen door. Mr. Brummel appeared on the porch. A big man with shaggy white hair and a shy smile, he always made Esther think of a sheepdog.

“Good news,” he announced to a chorus of fairy bells as Pa invited him inside. “I bring you good news.” Because Mr. Brummel was the sheriff, he had one of the few telephones in the area. Important messages were often relayed through him. He pumped Pa's hand and clapped him on the back. “Your daughter Julia just telephoned. She asked me to tell you that her sister had her baby tonight. A boy! Henry Christian. Both he and his mama are fine.”

Pa beamed at Ma. She smiled and urged Mr. Brummel to sit. “You must have a bowl of raspberries and cream,” she invited. She scurried across the kitchen for another bowl. “One month early but the baby is fine. And he is named after his grandpa! We have much to celebrate.”

“I'm an aunt!” Violet suddenly cried.

“Me too!” Esther said. She turned to Walter. “And you're an uncle.”

He laughed. “I'm not an uncle. I'm a boy.”

But she explained, and she knew he finally understood when his mouth fell open. “I'm Uncle Walter,” he crowed, and everyone laughed.

That night, Esther lay awake in bed for a long time. It had been such a special day, she wanted to press the happy memories firmly into her mind so she'd never forget.

If only she could shake off the sad feeling that came whenever she thought about disobeying Ma. Esther had always tried hard to please Ma and to be good, but here she was doing something Ma had strictly forbidden! She had barely been able to eat her raspberries after supper. Each one was like a pebble of guilt added to the heavy pile already inside her.

“Nu,
Esther, are you not well?” Ma had asked. “Did so much sun make you sick?” She had frowned in worry.

“No, Ma, I'm fine,” Esther had told her. “I ate a lot of berries while I was picking, though.” That much at least was true. If only everything could be true. If only life today could be as simple as it had been a week ago, when Esther had no secrets.

The last thing she heard before she drifted off to sleep was a gentle drumming on the roof. It took Esther a few moments to realize what it was. Then she smiled. It was raining at last.

AUGUST MARKED THE BEGINNING OF THE
harvest. There was no time to write long grumbly letters. There was no time for picnics. There was little time even to play with Mickey and Margaret.

Suppers were late so they could all work longer. Pa usually fell asleep in his rocker reading the day-old copy of the
Wisconsin State Journal
he got for free at the dairy. Walter sometimes fell asleep right at the table. And Esther and Violet were yawning long before they finished washing the dishes. Ma, her knitting needles clicking, was always the last one to bed. She was making mittens and scarves and wool stockings. Just looking at them made Esther feel hotter than ever. Winter seemed very far away.

Esther and Violet spent much of each day working in Ma's vegetable garden. The crops in the fields had suffered from the lack of rain. But thanks to the well, the garden had thrived.

All summer Ma had carried heavy buckets of water from the well to soak the dry ground. Now tomatoes, cabbages, beets, carrots, onions, cucumbers, beans, and green peppers were all ripening at once. Every day the girls picked the ripest ones and carried them indoors. Ma boiled them in big pots of water and stored them in glass jars. She pickled the cucumbers and some of the beets and onions and stored those in glass jars, too. It was hot, hot work, but it meant they would have vegetables even in the winter.

When the vegetable garden began to slow down, the grapes in the arbor were ripe. And the plum trees were heavy with fruit. The girls picked fruit until their arms ached. Ma filled jar after jar with jams and jellies. And one day, for a treat, she made fry cakes.

Esther loved fry cakes. It was fun to watch Ma drop big spoonfuls of the dough into bubbling hot oil and to watch the dough puff up into airy cakes. When they were golden brown, Ma rolled them in sugar. Just before they were to be eaten, she sliced them and filled them with jelly. Yum! Esther ate so many, Ma said she'd be sick, and she was a little. But it was worth it.

Meanwhile, the threshers Pa hired came to harvest the oats and the wheat with their big machine. Pa was disappointed. There were not nearly so many bushels as he'd hoped. It had been too dry. His hopes were all pinned on the corn and potato crops now. Nothing must go wrong with them.

School started again right after Labor Day. Now Esther could see Bethany every day without looking over her shoulder, watching for Ma. But happy as Esther was to be back in school again, and to have so much more time with Bethany, her guilt at deceiving Ma was always with her. Like her own little cloud, it cast a small shadow over even her brightest days.

Sometimes Esther would be playing with Bethany and she'd suddenly imagine Ma had come up behind her. She'd see the shock on Ma's face that Esther had disobeyed her, and she would vow to tell Bethany the truth. But when she looked into Bethany's smiling face, the words stuck in her throat. She could not tell her friend that Ma thought she was marked and dangerous. She could not.

Sometimes it made Esther angry that she felt guilty all the time. Angry with Ma for thinking Bethany's mole was a sign. Angry with Pa for not telling Ma she was wrong this time. Even angry with Bethany—for being too nice to hurt, and for having that darned old mole to begin with. But mostly Esther was angry with herself, because she couldn't find a way out of the lie that would not hurt someone.

That year, Walter was in first grade and Miss Larson was his teacher. But Esther and Bethany had moved up to fifth grade, so they were in Violet's room. Their teacher was Mrs. Davies.

“She's not as young and pretty as Miss Larson,” Esther had observed to Bethany on the first day of school. “But she's awfully nice. I think I'll like her all right, don't you?”

Bethany nodded. “She puts on a play every year, too. Now we'll be able to be in it with the rest of the big kids.”

Esther's heart gave a little hop. A play! She'd always wanted to be in a play. “When is it?” she asked eagerly.

“The play's not until spring, but we'll start working on it right after the New Year. Hannah Peterson told me it was the most fun she ever had,” Bethany reported. “They make all the scenery and everything!”

Esther didn't need any convincing. She was sure being in a play would be the most wonderful thing ever. If only winter weren't so far away!

September slipped past in a warm, green haze. October arrived dressed in vivid oranges, reds, and golds. Esther couldn't remember ever seeing leaves as bright as the ones she saw that fall. Every morning she stood for a few moments on the porch to look at the maples and elms that skirted the house. And every morning they were more beautiful. The maples turned fiery red. The elms turned bronze and gold—so gold, they seemed to glow.

“It's almost like magic,” Esther whispered to Mickey. “I half expect to see fairies dancing on the branches.”

One morning when Esther and Violet arrived in their classroom, all the children were talking about the Nielson twins. Neither boy was present, but their cousin, an eighth-grade girl named Katrina, announced that they were moving.

“Uncle's crops were poor again this year,” she explained. “He can't pay what he owes, so the bank is auctioning off their farm on Saturday.”

“But what will happen to Wes and Thomas?” Esther asked.

Katrina shrugged. “I don't know. Uncle is talking about moving to Madison or Milwaukee. But farming is the only work he knows.”

The news weighed on Esther's heart for the rest of the day. Listening to Walter's class say the letters of the alphabet lifted her spirits some. But when she came back to her classroom and saw the twins' empty desks, her sadness returned.

That night, before he got up from the table after supper, Pa told Ma about the auction. “Brummel told me when I ran into him at the dairy this morning,” he said. “It is sad, sad news.”

“I'm glad that could never happen to us,” Esther said. “We'll live here forever!”

Pa's forehead wrinkled. “We have a mortgage, too,
Liebling,
” he said gently. “Another summer like this one and who knows? The auction could be here.”

“But I thought we owned the farm,” she protested.

“Not completely,” Pa explained. “We used our savings to pay for part of it. But the rest is a loan from the bank—that's the mortgage. If the mortgage is not paid back, the bank takes back the land and sells it to someone else.”

Esther slumped in her chair. First there was the rain to worry about, and now this. Wasn't life ever certain? Wasn't anything forever?

When the dishes were washed, Pa brought out the checkerboard. Violet and Walter scooted over to grab chairs. With most of the crops harvested, Pa's labors had eased a little. More and more often he played checkers or rummy in the evening. But that night Esther was not in a mood for games.

She went out and sat on the porch steps. Mickey padded over. He lay down beside her and rested his head in her lap. She stroked his velvety ears and looked out at the farm. The sun was just setting over the harvested wheat field. Esther's heart swelled at the purple and gold beauty of it.

She had never really noticed sunsets in Chicago. She had never eaten berries she'd picked herself. She'd never eaten vegetables she'd helped to grow. She'd never sat on her very own porch with her very own dog. She had never felt such a tie to anyplace as she felt to the farm.

“I don't ever want to leave, Mickey.” She gulped. “Not ever. Not even if we never get a bathroom in the house.”

Mickey's tail thumped against the floorboards. She knew that meant he understood. It meant he didn't ever want her to leave, either.

All that week Esther thought hard. She wanted to find a way to help pay the mortgage. Then they could stay on the farm forever. And then Ma would see that she could do something important for the family. Surely she would be impressed by that. But what could Esther do? In
Little Women,
Jo had sold her hair to help her family. But Esther's hair was not long enough to sell. And she wouldn't know where to take it if it was. Still, there had to be something she could do.

• • •

On Friday after school, Esther got an idea. The hazelnut and walnut trees behind the farmhouse were full of nuts. She'd gather the ones that had fallen on the ground and sell them at the roadside on Saturday. Excited, she rummaged in the barn until she found an old wooden crate.

“Can I use this, Pa?”

Pa looked up from the harness he was cleaning. He nodded. “What will you use it for?”

Esther smiled. “It's a surprise. Do you have any paint?”

“Just a few drops of black.” He gestured to a small can on the shelf.

He was right. There wasn't much. But Esther didn't need much. She swirled a brush around the inside of the can to get every last bit of paint. She was just able to write
NUTS 5c
before it ran out. Then she took two empty feed sacks and ran out back. Nuts were thick on the four trees. But they were thick on the ground, too, and much handier. Squirrels ran away and scolded when Esther scooped up the nuts and dropped them into a sack.

“You can climb the trees,” she scolded back. “Don't be so lazy.”

It was suppertime before she quit and dragged both sacks to the back porch. Ma had just come outside to call her. She blinked at Esther and the sacks in surprise.
“Nu,
what have you been up to?”

“I've been gathering nuts,” Esther told her proudly. “I'm going to sell them along the road tomorrow. The money will help pay the mortgage.”

She held her breath and waited for Ma's reaction. Would she laugh? Would she shake her head and say it was a waste of time? Or would she tell Esther she was a genius, and that she loved her with all her heart?

Ma did neither of those things. She nodded and said, “A good idea.” Then she smiled down at Esther and said it again. “A good idea.”

Esther was chilled from being outdoors for so long. But Ma's words warmed her better than any fire, from the inside out. She smiled back at Ma and followed her into the house.

After supper, Ma gave Esther a stack of old newspapers. She showed her how to make cones from the paper. The cones could be filled with nuts and then twisted shut on top. “Just be sure to mark the walnut bags with a
W
or you will not know which are which,” Ma cautioned her. She even gave Esther a stub of pencil for the job.

Esther was overjoyed. Ma was really noticing her! And she was proud of what Esther was trying to do. Esther could see it in her eyes. Just wait until I hand her and Pa a pile of money tomorrow, Esther thought. She'll hug me then for sure, just like Mrs. Rubinstein hugged Shirley.

The next morning, right after breakfast, Esther lugged the crate out to the roadside. It was heavy now that it was stuffed with bags of nuts. Esther thought about asking Violet, or even Walter, to help her carry it. But then they might feel they had some claim to the glory when she handed the money over later. No. It was better to stagger and pant and stumble.

At the roadside Esther emptied the crate, sorting the paper bundles into two piles, ones marked with a
W
and ones that were not. Then she turned the crate on end so drivers could read the sign she'd painted. There would be lots of cars and wagons passing soon. On Saturdays many families went to town for supplies. Her nuts would make a tempting treat to buy along the way. Esther patted her lucky birthday hair ribbon and perched on the bottom rail of the fence to wait.

Sure enough, it wasn't long before cars began to rumble past. But they weren't the farmers Esther was expecting. They were men in suits and ties driving big, shiny cars. They drove by with hardly a glance at Esther's sign.

The sun climbed higher. Esther paced back and forth and squinted down the road. Where were her customers? Soon she would have to go home for lunch, and she hadn't sold even one bag. What would Ma say? She would think Esther's idea had been a foolish one after all.

Suddenly Esther heard a car coming from the direction of town. When it came nearer, she saw it was one of the shiny cars she'd seen earlier. It lurched to a stop, sending up a spray of dirt and gravel. The driver called, “What have you got?”

“Hazels and walnuts,” Esther called back.

“I'll take two of each,” he said.

Thrilled, Esther brought him the nuts. But when the man handed her a quarter, her heart sank. “I don't have any change,” she told him. Would he give the nuts back and drive away?

He waved his hand. “You can have the nickel,” he said. Then he roared away.

Almost immediately another car came. This car had three men in it. Between them they bought eight bags of nuts!

“At least I'll have made one good buy today,” one of the men grumbled. The others snorted and laughed.

Three more cars of strangers passed by. Esther watched hopefully, but they didn't slow. One red-faced driver was waving his fist and talking to his passengers. Esther wondered how he managed to stay on the road.