Free The Dragon in the Ghetto Caper by E.L. Konigsburg Page B

wrapped before Harry—he’s my husband—comes home, and I’m married again. We’ll be there tomorrow, and I can hardly wait. Andy, will you please carry the dragon over to your house? Just put it with the other presents that have arrived today. I have a card all signed and ready. I know that I’ll say everything wrong if I deliver it. I got a new dress for the party, and Harry—he’s my husband—says that I look as normal as gooseberry pie. Actually, that’s quite a compliment because people usually say ‘as normal as blueberry pie.’” She bit off the thread as she finished the final seam, and she smiled up at Andy. “I can’t believe that I’m going. It’s my first big party since we moved here.”
    Here was Edie Yakots, a grown-up person, excited and nervous, too nervous even to take a present over to the house. She had bought a new dress for a wedding that wasn’t even hers. Everyone else in Foxmeadow, except Mrs. Chronister and Ms. Chronister, he was sure, would wear something that they had worn to the Debutante Ballor to the Foxmeadow Frolics. Tor God’s sake,” Andy told her, “Mary Jane is more cool about her very own wedding than you are.”
    â€œOh, yes,” Edie agreed. “That’s why Mary Jane needs a dragon.” Andy looked puzzled. “Not that I believe that you can ever really give anyone a dragon. Everyone has to find his own. But it doesn’t hurt to try. Especially when they’re not even looking. I guess it is mostly when you know that someone is looking for a dragon that you should not give it to him. Just try to help him find it.”
    The pillow was awkward. Well, Andy thought, dragons were awkward. They had to wrap it in tissue paper because Edie wrapped it raw, without a box, and normal gift wrap wouldn’t work. They had used tissue paper of primary colors: red, yellow and blue. Well, Andy thought, dragons were primary. He carried the present up to Mary Jane’s room. Andy thought that if they recycled all the gift wrap there, it would make enough Coca-Cola cartons for seven years of drought. Edie’s was the only gift not wrapped in white. For a wedding present it looked as normal as gooseberry pie. Well, Andy thought, dragons were as normal as gooseberry pie.
    He’d have to fire Edie later. After the weekend. After Mary Jane’s marriage.

C HAPTER E LEVEN
    A ndy was made to sit in the front row of seats, those reserved for members of the family. He kept turning around to see who was coming in. Edie arrived early. She looked different. Maybe because he had never seen her out of context. Like once he saw his first-grade teacher in the supermarket, dressed in shorts, for God’s sake. He hadn’t known what to do, so he had ducked down one aisle after another until they ran into each other (cart to cart) at the ice-cream counter, and Andy had been so taken aback that he had saluted.
    Edie didn’t wave at Andy at all. He had expected her to carry on insanely when she spotted him; he had made up his mind that he wouldn’t pay any attention, that the minute he spotted her, he would keep his eyes on his lap. But he kept looking back at her to catch her eye. But he couldn’t. She looked at everyone coming down the aisle. Maybe Harry—her husband—had warned her about behaving. She looked different. Then Andy realized that she was not wearing her glasses. She probably couldn’t see him. He’d help. He twisted around in his seat and waved

    his hand until he caught Harry—her husbands—attention. Harry smiled and gently tapped Edie and pointed to Andy. Finally, Edie herself waved. Andy sat around in his seat, staring ahead and realizing that he had been waving like an antenna in a high wind, for God’s sake.
    The ceremony took too long. Mary Jane was not satisfied with simply walking down the aisle and having the minister say things to