Free Arly by Robert Newton Peck Page B

didn’t mean thataway.”
    She patted my hand. “I know. Enough about you and me. What’s important is Essie May Cooter. Believe me, Arly, in every school I’ve taught in, there are always young girls who suddenly blossom to womanhood. I see it before they do, usually.”
    â€œI look at her too. All the time.”
    â€œSo I have observed.”
    â€œYou have?” My palms began to sweat a mite, so I rubbed my hands back and forth on the wicker arms of the chair.
    â€œWe old schoolmarms have not lived all of our lives with only a cat for company.”
    â€œYes’m, I s’pose not.”
    â€œYou’re a sensitive young man.”
    â€œWhat does
sensitive
mean?”
    She smiled. “It means that you are mindful of the plight of others. In this instance, you’re aware of the growing urgings of Essie May Cooter, and you haveeven foreseen a possible tragedy that could befall a girl who is now a woman.”
    â€œEssie’s ma is just a picker too. Addie Cooter. She drives the picker wagon and looks to the mules.”
    â€œPerhaps I should meet Mrs. Cooter.”
    â€œWhat we do,” I said, “has got to be sudden soon. I’m afraid something bad’ll git to Essie May. Each day gits worse an’ worse.”
    I heared a funny sound. It came from inside the house. Bong! Bong! Bong! The noise made me jumpy. “What’s
that
?”
    â€œOh, that’s only Mrs. Newell’s big grandfather clock. She showed it to me on Sunday and talked about that clock as if it were her prize possession. It just struck the hour. Eight o’clock.”
    â€œI don’t understand time,” I said, “or clocks neither.”
    â€œThen you and your father don’t own a clock? Even so, you manage to come to school on time.”
    â€œYes’m. I git Papa up righteous early, on account pickers got to be in the fields at first light, to harvest fresh. While he washes, I sort of stuff his noon bag, so’s he’ll eat proper.”
    â€œYou care about your father, don’t you?”
    I nodded. “He’s all I got, except for Brother and the Cooters. And you.”
    â€œThank you, Arly. I’m honored that you include me among your friends.”

Chapter 15
    A cheer sounded.
    Jumping up from the rocking chair on the front porch of the boarding house, I looked down the street.
    â€œMiss Hoe, there’s something going on down yonder. A crowd of men are standing around a big crate.”
    â€œPerhaps we should stroll down there and see for ourselves,” she answered. “I wouldn’t want to miss all the excitement.”
    Turning around quickly, I shook my head at her. “No, a lady like you can’t go there. Not to a place like that.”
    Miss Hoe stood very straight, even though she was a little woman. “Arly,” she told me, “a
lady
can go anywhere and still remain a lady.” She smiled softly. “Let’s go.”
    Sure enough, Miss Binnie Hoe walked out of the front gate, made a sharp turn, and pointed herself head-on toward the Lucky Leg Social Palace. Her pace weren’t fast. Just steady. As we got closer, we could see a large wooden carton being pried open by two men who were using iron wrecking bars. Pulling nails out of the boards made a high-pitch squeaky sound.
    â€œWhat’s inside?” I asked.
    â€œWell,” said Miss Hoe, “from the rumors I hear from some of the gentleman boarders at Mrs. Newell’s, my guess would be that this is a new billiard table.”
    â€œA pool table?”
    She nodded. “My father built himself one, years ago. He was an excellent billiard shot who, believe it or not, taught me a trick or two.”
    As it turned out, Miss Hoe was right. There it stood, a beauty of a new pool table with a bright green felt for a playing surface. The men also unpacked balls, cues of different lengths, and some other stuff. Sitting up on