Free A Year Down Yonder by Richard Peck Page B

people turned to look. She was all eyes. And she really was the thinnest girl in the world. She was skinnier than a toothpick with termites. She looked around to see how many valentines everybody else got. One apiece.
    Ina-Rae crept into her desk. Her hands dithered over the paper pile. She too made short work of Miss Butler’s valentine. Then she took up the next one. It was homemade to a fault. It looked like it had been whittled, not cut out. The message read, Ina-Rae stared, then leaned so far over, she was almost in my lap. “I think that one’s from Elmo Leaper,” she confided at the top of her voice. “Can you believe it?”
    I send this sentiment in haste
But at least I didn’t eat the paste
A Secrit Admiror
    And, really, I couldn’t.
    Ina-Rae sat straighter in her desk now. Maturely, she took up the next valentine. It was somewhat better made, with odd little tufts of cotton batting stuck on.
    It read, Ina-Rae gasped. Then she was all over me again. “The Johnson brothers? Can it be?”
    Simple shepherds are we
And too sheepish to say
Have a happy St. Valentine’s Day
[ unsigned ]
    As luck would have it, Elmo Leaper and the Johnson brothers were across the hall with Mr. Herkimer. But word that they’d sent Ina-Rae valentines swept our room like a grass fire. It didn’t take long. There were only about twelve of us. Carleen Lovejoy looked back in annoyance.
    Now Ina-Rae came to the last valentine, and I could hardly wait.
    It really was lovely. A white satin heart, padded like a little pillow and surrounded by a double row of paper lace neatly pasted on—hours to make. Ina-Rae cradled it in trembling hands, to read, “Oh, Mary Alice!” Ina-Rae bounced in her desk. She seemed overcome with self-confidence. Word radiated that Royce McNabb had sent Ina-Rae Gage a valentine.
    To the sweetest little girl in this room,
or any room.
    from R. McN.
    Royce was there too, but seemed not to notice. He always brought an Edgar Rice Burroughs book, or a Rider Haggard to read before school took up. Word reached Carleen, though. Ina-Rae and I watched her vibrate.
    Then she blew. Out of her desk, she switched and stalked back to us.
    “Let me see that thing.” She snatched the satin heart out of Ina-Rae’s hands, ripping lace.
    Carleen read the message for herself. Every word burned into her brain. She looked back at Royce McNabb. He sat there with his chin in his hand, reading. Royce was out of reach. Carleen slammed the valentine on Ina-Rae’s desk, got down in her face, and howled, “What have you been up to, you trashy little squirt?”
    A single tear replaced the gleam in Ina-Rae’s eye.
    Miss Butler came out of her chair. “Carleen! Leave the room.”
    So Carleen had to. Royce looked up as she slumped past him. The back of her neck was valentine-red and hot-looking. The door closed behind her. It was eight o’clock on the nose, so we all got up to give the Pledge of Allegiance.
    Ina-Rae lifted her desktop to sneak peeks at her valentines all morning long, cooing loudly. Down in the basement at noon when we were eating out of our dinner buckets, all the girls wanted to sit near her, even Irene Stemple.
    Royce shot baskets by himself down at the other end. He never really was a team player, though he had a nice hook shot. Not that I knew anything about basketball.
    Carleen wasn’t there. A smart mouth sent you home in those days.
    Afterward, out at the pump, Ina-Rae sidled up to me. “That was fun. Did you see Carleen’s face? I can keep the valentines, can’t I? You sure dreamed up some swell messages, Mary Alice. Especially R. McN.’s. They must have took you absolutely days to make.”
    “All in a good cause,” I said.
    Ina-Rae had played her role well too. I’d liked the tear in her eye.
    Then I went to scrubbing under the pump. My hands had been gummy for days. I thought I’d never get all the paste off them.
     
    February turned out to be my busiest month. I was no sooner through making