Being a kid Charlie didn’t know a whole lot, but he did know that if they ever did pick up the phone the wild girl would be taken away. Just like Lanette Perkins when her Dad took too hard of a swing at her and Billy Feans when his mother was killed on vacation. Lanette Perkins and Billy Feans never came back after they were picked up.
"Oh darlin' no." His mother was shaking her head and pouring more coffee. "They already lost one child. We can't take another away from them."
Charlie pulled at the shirt his mother picked out and scuffed the floor with his shoe until he got bored of the gossip and wandered into the yard. Like the rest of the block his lawn was green and trimmed, the hedges were square and the sidewalk cracks sprouted no weeds. Every lawn looked like his except for the wild girls.
Her lawn was tall and the green grass was tangled together. The hedges poked out of the forgotten picket fence and the sidewalk up to her front door was yellow with dandelions. A red and rustin' lawn mower was buried in the tall grass and had been since last year. Two untrimmed trees sat beside the outer picket fence and Charlie caught himself eyeing the things.
Today was gonna be different. He wasn't gonna go find Dustin Willis and Quincy Stevens. He was gonna go over and climb the wild girls trees. Maybe roll through the long grass, pretend he was ambushing some pirates. He wanted to check out that ol' lawn mower and see if he could get it to run again. His Ma had told him no last year when he tried to have snowball fight with the girl.
She told Charlie not to bother the nice people while they were grieving. She said it wouldn't be polite to climb their apple trees or throw snowballs at their daughter while they were mourning their dead baby. Charlie didn't know a whole lot about a whole lot but he did know his mama was wrong; about the wild girl anyway. She wanted to play. Whenever Charlie was outside the girl would come out and stand on her weathered porch just to stare across the street at him. If that wasn't an invite to play with her, then nothing was.
His Mama was wrong. Adults could mourn away their own children for as long at they wanted, but kids did it different. Charlie knew that the wild girl wanted somebody to play with. And Charlie was tired of Quincy and Dustin fighting all the time. He was tired of Willy pushin' him off his own bike when the other kid wanted to ride. He was tired of playin' the same ol' borin' games with 'em.
Plus he didn't see any reason why he couldn't. It had been a whole year since the last time his Ma had told him no; he figured by now she had either forgotten about it or had changed her mind. With that thought in mind Charlie tromped across the street and stood outside the grey fence waitin'.
"Oh darlin' no." His mother was shaking her head and pouring more coffee. "They already lost one child. We can't take another away from them."
Charlie pulled at the shirt his mother picked out and scuffed the floor with his shoe until he got bored of the gossip and wandered into the yard. Like the rest of the block his lawn was green and trimmed, the hedges were square and the sidewalk cracks sprouted no weeds. Every lawn looked like his except for the wild girls.
Her lawn was tall and the green grass was tangled together. The hedges poked out of the forgotten picket fence and the sidewalk up to her front door was yellow with dandelions. A red and rustin' lawn mower was buried in the tall grass and had been since last year. Two untrimmed trees sat beside the outer picket fence and Charlie caught himself eyeing the things.
Today was gonna be different. He wasn't gonna go find Dustin Willis and Quincy Stevens. He was gonna go over and climb the wild girls trees. Maybe roll through the long grass, pretend he was ambushing some pirates. He wanted to check out that ol' lawn mower and see if he could get it to run again. His Ma had told him no last year when he tried to have snowball fight with the girl.
She told Charlie not to bother the nice people while they were grieving. She said it wouldn't be polite to climb their apple trees or throw snowballs at their daughter while they were mourning their dead baby. Charlie didn't know a whole lot about a whole lot but he did know his mama was wrong; about the wild girl anyway. She wanted to play. Whenever Charlie was outside the girl would come out and stand on her weathered porch just to stare across the street at him. If that wasn't an invite to play with her, then nothing was.
His Mama was wrong. Adults could mourn away their own children for as long at they wanted, but kids did it different. Charlie knew that the wild girl wanted somebody to play with. And Charlie was tired of Quincy and Dustin fighting all the time. He was tired of Willy pushin' him off his own bike when the other kid wanted to ride. He was tired of playin' the same ol' borin' games with 'em.
Plus he didn't see any reason why he couldn't. It had been a whole year since the last time his Ma had told him no; he figured by now she had either forgotten about it or had changed her mind. With that thought in mind Charlie tromped across the street and stood outside the grey fence waitin'.
