Who'll Pick Me? Read online

  “Thank you,” said Aunt Susan. She reached inside a bowl filled with chopped pecans and grabbed a handful, adding them to the butter and sugar topping. “Ta-da!” she said as she stepped back to admire her creation. “Our dessert for tonight!”

  When Peri finished rinsing the peas, she asked, “Do you have anything else for me to do?”

  “No, sweetheart,” answered her aunt. “Why don’t you go out and see if you can make some friends.”

  Peri’s heart felt like an electric charge had zoomed through it and jolted her down to the very tips of her toes. Just the thought of yesterday’s experience made her stomach flip-flop. Before she could come up with a reasonable explanation not to go, her aunt dried her hands on a dishtowel and came up beside her.

  She placed a hand on the top of Peri’s head. “Before you say anything, I think we should have a talk.” She brushed the hair from Peri’s face. “I want to discuss an idea I had last night after I went to bed.”

  Aunt Susan went back to the counter and molded some tin foil over the cobbler. She placed the dish in the refrigerator; then she and Peri walked into the den. Aunt Susan settled into the sofa and patted the seat cushion next to her for her niece to sit beside her.

  Peri sat down, her eyes moving upward and then stopping so that she gazed into her aunt’s face. “I don’t want to see those girls again,” she whispered. Her voice trembled as a mounting of tears filled her eyes. She dropped her eyes. “I’m too embarrassed,” she mumbled.

  “Heavens to Betsy, child, what do you have to be embarrassed about?” Aunt Susan asked.

  “Because they took me for a boy,” Peri answered. She couldn’t bring herself to look at her aunt.

  Aunt Susan cupped Peri’s chin in her hands and raised her face. “Well, I admit that wasn’t the best of beginnings, but it doesn’t mean you’re doomed for life!” Aunt Susan laughed softly.

  “It’s not funny,” mumbled Peri. “Everyone is going to tease me.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “When school starts, I’ll be known as Peri Hardy, the new first grade boy.”

  “Maybe not,” said her aunt. Then she proceeded slowly, knowing in her heart what her niece’s reaction would be. “Have you ever thought about changing your name?”

  “Change my name!” exclaimed Peri. She pulled her head from her aunt’s hold. “I’d never do that! Periwinkle is . . . was Mama’s favorite flower.” Her heart pounded; she couldn’t believe what her aunt was saying.

  Aunt Susan held up both hands. “I know, I know. I’m not suggesting you need to get a whole new name.”

  Peri tilted her head and waited for her aunt to explain.

  “I’m suggesting that instead of going by ‘Peri,’ why not let everyone call you ‘Winkie?’”

  “But that was Mama’s special name for me!” How could she let everybody call her that? If everyone called her “Winkie,” then it wouldn’t be special any more. A fresh flood of tears streamed down Peri’s red-hot cheeks.

  Aunt Susan reached inside the pocket of her apron and withdrew a small, white handkerchief. She slipped it into Peri’s clenched fist.

  “And that’s the very reason you should let that be your new name. If everyone calls you ‘Winkie,’ then your mama’s special name will live on.” Aunt Susan’s smile softened. “Each time someone says your name, it will be like your mama is still with you. It will be her special gift to you, a gift that can live on forever.”

  Peri didn’t say anything for a few minutes; she sat with her hands folded in her lap and picked at a cuticle. She lifted her head. “Maybe,” she said. “Let me think about it.”

  Peri wiped her eyes once more with the handkerchief and then extended it toward her aunt.

  “You hold on to this until you’ve made your decision. It won’t be an easy choice and you may need the hankie as you think about what you want to do.” Aunt Susan folded the handkerchief and tucked it into the front pocket of Peri’s jeans. “But I do want it back. It was a gift from a close friend I used to work with.”

  * * * * *

  Peri decided to walk to the Lambs’ house, check on the puppies, and then venture into town. She’d earned ten dollars from the things she sold at their garage sale, but she hadn’t decided what she wanted to spend her money on. When she arrived at the Lambs’ fence entrance, she carefully eased opened the gate. Walking down to the far corner of the yard, she could see the puppies in a heap in the curve of Molly’s fat tummy, all taking a mid afternoon siesta in the cool shade of the thicket of pine trees.

  Molly raised her head and all the puppies leaped up. They raced toward Peri and jumped around her legs. Molly lumbered up beside her and dragged a wet tongue across Peri’s hand. Peri patted her plump side.

  “Good girl,” said Peri. Then she looked at the trough. “I see you need some water.”

  Molly’s tail wagged.

  Peri lifted the aluminum pail and took it over to the spigot. She placed the bucket under the faucet and turned it on. When the bucket was full, Peri grabbed the handle with both hands and lugged it toward the trough. Water sloshed around her thighs and dripped into her shoes. Instantly, eight squirming bodies appeared and eight little tongues lapped at her legs. Peri’s shoes squished with each step as she made her way toward the trough, but soon her legs became entangled with those of the puppies, sending her tumbling to the ground. Water pooled around her head, soaking her shirt and blue jeans. Now thirsty tongues dragged across her face and neck, and sharp teeth nipped at her chin and cheeks.

  Between laughing and trying to push away the exuberant puppies, Peri couldn’t get up. Squirt ran on top of her and licked her exposed stomach. Finally, Peri rolled to her hands and knees and picked up the empty bucket. This time she only filled the bucket halfway. When she poured the water into the trough, the puppies lost interest in her as they gulped greedily, all except Squirt. Squirt nipped at Peri’s heels until they reached the gate. Peri left a whimpering Squirt pawing at the gate.

  Instead of walking into town, Peri needed to go back to her house to get cleaned up and change into dry clothes. When she arrived at the back door, Peri removed her shoes. Using the garden hose coiled by the steps, she rinsed the dirt from her feet and legs.

  By the time she finished cleaning up, it was getting close to dinner, so Peri spent the remainder of the afternoon in her room reading a mystery, absorbed in another adventure of Nancy Drew and her friends.

  * * * * *

  That night Peri knelt down by the side of her bed. She folded her hands into prayer position and lifted her eyes upward.

  “Dear God,” she said aloud. “I still don’t understand why Mama and Gigi had to leave, but Daddy says that it’s not important that we understand. He says we just need to trust in You and believe that one day we’ll all be together again. I’m trying really hard, but I can’t help but miss Mama. I hope that’s not a bad thing and if it is, that You’ll forgive me. Thank you for Aunt Susan and Daddy.” Peri paused before continuing, “And please, send me a best friend. Amen.”

  Peri switched off the light beside her bed and then wiggled under the quilt. Her eyes traveled out the window and stared into the blackness of the night. She wondered where Heaven was, and if her mama could see her now. Did her mama know what she was thinking; could she see what Peri was doing? One thing Peri knew for sure, her mama would want her to be happy. She wouldn’t want for her or her daddy to be sad in their new home.

  She’d been taught to trust in God’s plan even when things didn’t turn out like she wanted. God had already answered one prayer. Her eyes moved around the room, studying all the special care Aunt Susan had given it. She had done everything she could to make it look just like the one her mama had decorated for her. Now she wouldn’t have to depend on her memory . . . all she had to was look around and see it right before her eyes.

  Peri tossed in her bed trying to find a comfortable spot, but her mind whirled around the conversation she’d had that afternoon with Aunt Susan. How could Aunt Susan sug
gest such a thing? Her mind tumbled faster as she thought about not being Peri any more. Should she change her name? A new name for a new home? A new town? Maybe Aunt Susan was right. If Peri let everyone called her “Winkie,” it would be just like her mama was still alive.

  Maybe this was God’s way of answering another prayer . . . if everyone called her “Winkie,” it would be like her mama was still with her in a way. Her new name would be a constant reminder to Peri and she would never forget.

  As she thought about this, her heart felt lighter. She knew what her choice would be. She closed her eyes and for the last time Peri Hardy fell asleep . . . when she woke up tomorrow, she would be Winkie Hardy.

  The Missing Handkerchief

  “You’re up and at ‘em early, Peri . . . er, I mean Winkie,” mumbled Mr. Hardy through a mouthful of shredded wheat. The Bell Buckle Gazette lay spread out on the table.

  Winkie smiled. She liked the sound of her new name. “I want to make sure Molly and the puppies have enough water. I saw on the Weather Channel last night it’s supposed to be a record high today.”

  “The whole country’s having a heat wave,” said Mr. Hardy, turning to the Sports Page. “I’m glad I’m working inside the house today.” He scooped up another spoonful of cereal before he said, “The banister in the foyer has to be fixed now.”

  Outside the sun hovered above the towering pines, its warming rays inching their way through the gaps between the branches and creating puddles of morning light across the ground. A couple of mockingbirds flitted along a narrow pathway between a hedge of shrubs, trying to wet their tongues in the dewy grass.

  Aunt Susan sat at the kitchen table, crouched over the crossword puzzle, and sipped her second cup of coffee. She looked up, her pencil poised midair. “What’s a four-letter word for ‘a curved window?’” She focused her attention on her brother.

  “‘Ogee,’” he replied. Mr. Hardy knew all the answers that had to do with building things and baseball trivia.

  Aunt Susan nodded. “That works.” Her pencil filled in the appropriate letters.

  Winkie walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a bowl for her cereal.

  “I have a feeling it’s going to be a great day!” said Aunt Susan without glancing up from the puzzle. “There’s a big sale over at Brandon’s Hardware Store. I’m going over there to pick out a shade of paint for the dining room and living room.” She looked to Winkie. “Would you like to go with me to help pick out a color?”

  “Sure,” Winkie readily agreed. Anything to avoid going to the park again.

  “Oh, and Winkie,” said Aunt Susan as she continued to write. “Before you go to the Lambs’ house, I need the handkerchief to put in the wash with the other dirty clothes.”

  Winkie added some milk to the corn flakes in her bowl. “I forgot to take it out of the pocket of the jeans. I’m sorry, Aunt Susan.” She set the bowl on the table next to her aunt. “I’ll run upstairs and get it.”

  “Huh-uh.” Her aunt shook her head no. “It wasn’t there. I went through all the pockets of the jeans and the shirt you wore yesterday.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t put it somewhere else?” asked her daddy. “Sometimes you forget things.”

  “No, I’m positive I didn’t take it out of the pocket.” A pink flush rose to Winkie’s cheeks. “I was so tired and soaked from the bucket of water falling on me that I just threw everything into the basket without emptying any of the pockets.”

  “Well, it wasn’t in there.” Aunt Susan pursed her lips. “Maybe it could have fallen out somewhere along the way between here and the Lambs’ house.”

  “I’ll look when I go take care of Molly and the puppies,” said Winkie.

  * * * * *

  As Winkie walked to the Lambs’ house, she kept her eyes glued to the ground, looking to see if the handkerchief may have slipped out beside the sidewalk when she’d made her way home the day before. She’d been so upset she could have easily not noticed if it had wiggled loose from her pocket. She hoped it wasn’t gone for good. She’d feel just awful if she lost the handkerchief the close friend had given her aunt.

  By the time she arrived at the Lambs’, she still hadn’t found the handkerchief. Winkie thought hard, grabbing the end of her long ponytail and twisting it around her fingers. Could she be mistaken about removing it from her pockets? She didn’t think so, but since her mama had died she did tend to forget things. Before they went to the hardware store, she’d go through her room from top to bottom.

  Once inside the fence with the gate locked firmly behind her, Winkie whistled like Mrs. Lamb had done. On cue the puppies came tumbling from the dog house. She fed Molly first and let her enjoy the solitude while her babies yipped eagerly in anticipation of their breakfast. Winkie fed the puppies and tried to play for a few minutes with each one, but they only wanted to scarf down their food and romp with one another, except for Squirt. When Winkie had tried to give Squirt her food, she just pawed Winkie’s legs and whimpered.

  Winkie plopped down in the grass and sat cross-legged. Squirt nestled into her lap, her tongue saturating Winkie’s face with licks.

  “Stop it.” Winkie laughed. “That tickles!”

  Squirt placed both paws on Winkie’s shoulders; hot doggy breath puffed into her face.

  “Now look what you’ve done!” exclaimed Winkie.

  Winkie pushed the puppy away and looked down. Her heart sank. Four puppy paws had left a trail of muddy prints up the front of her shirt.

  “Bad dog!” scolded Winkie.

  Squirt wiggled her backside into a spot on the grass and lowered her head. Her eyes peeked up and she whimpered a mournful apology.

  Winkie drew her mouth into a tight line. “Now I’m going to get into more trouble with Aunt Susan.”

  Squirt lifted her paw and rested it on Winkie’s thigh. In spite of herself, Winkie’s anger left and her heart softened.

  Squirt raised her head high and barked a shrill yip.

  Winkie pulled the puppy into her lap once more, studying the bottoms of her feet. Red clay caked between the pads, her toenails stained a rusty hue.

  “How did you get so dirty?” asked Winkie.

  Squirt rolled onto her back, begging for a belly rub. Winkie ran her fingers down Squirt’s velvety ears. The puppy’s ears flopped backward. Winkie noticed something green inside her left ear.

  “What’s this?” asked Winkie. She removed a small leaf from Squirt’s ear. “You silly!” laughed Winkie. “It’s a leaf from the laurel bush.” Mrs. Lamb had a row of laurel bushes against the fence.

  Squirt snapped for the leaf.

  “No,” said Winkie.

  Squirt cocked her head to one side and yelped again. Winkie hopped up and ran to the far end of the yard, grabbed a stick, and brought it back to Squirt. They played tug-of-war for a few minutes. Winkie threw the stick one time before she filled the water trough and headed back to the bed and breakfast to change yet again from dirty clothes.

  Squirt sat by the gate wagging her tail and whining as she watched Winkie disappear from sight.

  All the way home Winkie searched for the handkerchief, but it was nowhere to be found.

  * * * * *

  “I don’t know . . .” Aunt Susan took the paint chip to the window and held it next to the needlepoint seat cover in the light of the sun. “It says it’s ‘buttery dawn,’ but it looks more green than yellow to me.” She sighed. “What do you think, Winkie?”

  Winkie gazed at the small square and shrugged. She couldn’t tell. Her aunt had found eight seat covers at an estate sale, stitched by the great-grandmother of the woman who was having the sale. She was trying to match the yellow in one of the flowers in the seat cover pattern.

  Mr. Brandon folded his arms across his chest. “Why don’t you take it home, Susan? Colors have a way of changing once they are in different lights and surrounded by other fabrics and carpets. Take the color chart and match it with anything else that is going to be in the room.”
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  While her aunt and the hardware store owner discussed the paint, Winkie wandered up and down the aisles. They were filled with mostly tools, gardening supplies, and various household maintenance necessities. At the end of one aisle, she came to a table piled with an assortment of items. A big sign read: “Clearance: Everything $1.00.”

  On top was a furry, green frog with a black nose. She picked him up and squeezed his stomach. A little “croak-squeak” sounded. The frog was made of soft fuzzy material. He had two black button eyes and a big floppy mouth. Winkie felt in her pocket for the dollar she’d put there before she and Aunt Susan had left the house. She was hoping they’d stop by the ice cream parlor on their way home. Winkie looked at the frog and thought about how much fun Squirt would have with it.

  “Thank goodness I didn’t lose the dollar, too,” thought Winkie.

  A Walk to Town

  Winkie adjusted the brim on her Braves baseball cap. Well, it wasn’t her hat. It belonged to her daddy. Friends from their old neighborhood in Knoxville had given him the Atlanta baseball team’s hat and a T-shirt as going-away gifts. This afternoon, he’d let her wear the hat while she was working with him in the dining room. She’d helped replace baseboards. Several of the boards were rotten. Winkie had ripped out the old ones and hauled in the new lumber. Then she’d held the boards steady and in place while her daddy had nailed. Afterwards she’d carried the old pieces to the junk pile in the alley at the far end of the yard behind their house.

  Winkie walked into the dining room and looked at her daddy.

  “Do you need any more help?” she asked.

  Mr. Hardy stood and placed his fists in the small of his back, shifting his shoulders side to side. He looked at their work and then at his watch. “It’s getting late. I think I’ll tape the ceiling so Susan can begin painting first thing in the morning.”

  He pulled out his wallet and removed two dollars. He handed them to his daughter.

  “Here, you’ve been a big help,” he said.

  “Thank you.” Winkie took the money and tucked it into her pocket. She knew just what she was going to spend the money on.