Ricky pointed at Neil, and they all broke out laughing. That seemed to do the trick. He finally spoke. “What’s a job?”
Ann put her hand on his left shoulder. “Don’t worry, Neil. Your big sisters are going to find out.”
Liz pushed out her lower lip. “I was the one who heard her.”
“Well, don’t pout about it. You can help us,” Jeanie said, trying to placate her.
Neil’s eyes began to fill with tears. He was really getting scared. . Ann noticed his tears, and took his shirt tail and wiped them off his cheeks. No one chided him for being afraid. Jeanie and Ann knew they could all be in grave danger. If Neil was just a little afraid, well, that was okay. He had a right to be scared.
Jeanie began pacing the floor. “Let’s go outside,” she suggested. “Let’s do something.”
They went out into the fresh air and made a big display of being carefree children without a care in the world. “Red Rover, Red Rover,” yelled Ricky loudly. “Won’t you come over?”
Neil dashed across the sidewalk, stumbling on a large boulder. His head hit the ground first, and the sky began to spin around and around. He just laid there, looking upward, as a large group of cumulus clouds circled above.
“Neil,” cried Liz. “Get up. Let’s play.” They ran across the walk, yelling and laughing.
Neil, who was still staring up at the sky, cried out, “Oh-h-h,” pointing to the sky. “Looky there.”
“What?” they all asked. “What is it?”
“It’s an atomic blast,” he said, pointing to a cloud shaped like a huge mushroom.
“Gee. We better hide from the radiation,” said Ricky with a smirk.
“Hey. It does look like a blast,” Jeanie agreed, pointing at the apparition.
“Look at it now,” Liz announced. “It’s changing into an elephant. See the tusks.”
“Look over there,” yelled Rick. He jumped up and down. “That one looks like a white polar bear.”
“Yeah, it does,” agreed Ann.
“I think it looks like Krushchev,” added Jeanie. She knew a bear was the symbol for the Soviet Union.
“Oh-h-h, that one looks like a bank robber. See the kerchief over his nose.”
“Ay-e-e-e,” Liz cried hysterically. She pointed to the upstairs window where Miss Briggs stood watching behind the lace curtains, her watery eyes peering down intently at the scene below. Liz lowered her voice, “She’s staring at us.”
“Don’t look,” Jeanie warned.
“Oh-h-h. That woman scares me,” said Ann, forcing herself not to look up. “I wish we could find a way to search her room.”
“What do you think you’d find?” asked Jeanie. They already searched it once, and didn’t find anything out of the ordinary.
“Some clues,” Ann answered.
“Please talk about something else,” begged Liz. She wrinkled her brow to feign deep thinking.
“I’ll tie her up with my cowboy rope,” said Neil with bravado.
“Why don’t we just be real mean so she’ll leave,” Liz suggested.
“I’ll gag her with my kerchief,” added Ricky.
Jeanie was beginning to get exasperated. “Get serious, you guys.”
Ann spoke up. “I think Liz has a good idea. Let’s run her off.”
Jeanie nixed the idea. “She won’t leave. She’ll just tell Mother how bad we are.”
“Not if we’re all bad. We’ll stand together. We’ll deny everything, if Miss Briggs says anything about any of us. Don’t plead guilty to anything.”
“You sound just like a defense attorney. Never plead guilty. But that’s lying,” Jeanie reminded her sisters.
“Just little white lies,” Ann answered.
“White lies are just as bad as black lies.”
“What’s a white lie?” Neil asked.
“What’s a black lie?” Ricky asked.
“Well, we could all take turns being bad, and take our punishment,” Ann countered, trying to compromise.
“Me first,” cried Liz with complete rapture.
“Yeah. It’s your biggest talent. It comes natural to you,” added Jeanie.
Neil waved his lasso in the air. “Tie her up,” he yelled.
Ricky waved his red-checkered kerchief behind him. “Here’s the gag.”
“Why don’t you guys go play cowboys for awhile so we can think?” suggested Jeanie, tossing the rope and kerchief back to her brothers.
“Come one,” Ricky said to his little brother. “We’re in the way.” They walked away with heads hanging down.
“Boys,” Liz exclaimed loudly, waving her hands in the air. “So much trouble.”
Jeanie and Ann looked at each other and started laughing. It was just too much, with Liz complaining about anyone else being so much trouble.
“You’re a tomboy,” Jeanie couldn’t resist saying to Liz. “That makes you part boy.”
“I am not,” Liz yelled back.
“Come on, you two,” said Ann.
“She started it.”
Ann flopped down on the soft grass, spreading her arms and legs out, “Hm-m-m, this feels so good.”
Jeanie and Liz stopped their argument, and followed suit. “I love the cool grass,” said Liz, smothering her face in it. “It smells so grassy.”
“Now, listen,” Ann whispered. “Let’s plan our strategy right now, while there’s still time.” She had a feeling deep inside, an intuition that it was imperative they act right away.
“Do you have a strategy in mind?” asked Jeanie.
“I have a concrete plan,” answered Ann.
Liz looked at Ann quizzically. “Can we use bricks? I know where we can get some.”
Jeanie laughed. “Okay. Let’s have a brick plan.”
Ann looked at Liz. “She’s being facetious.”
“She’s making fun of me. I’m going to tell Mother.” With that, she jumped up and ran off to find her two brothers.
“Now we can plan in peace. What do you have in mind?” Jeanie asked Ann, as she watched Liz disappear into the orchard.
“Do I have to do all the thinking?” Ann replied. “You’re the oldest. You think of something.”
“Don’t get so touchy.”
“Well. don’t be such a deadhead all the time.”
Their mother drove up, ending that discussion for now. Ricky, Neil, and Liz got to the truck first, grabbing her hands and jumping around like squirrels.
Liz began first. “Do you know what Miss Briggs did today?” she said.
“Now, Liz,” her mother responded immediately. “Let’s not get into that subject again today. It’s off limits.”
Liz knew it was taboo to complain. “Yes’m,” she said obediently, hoping that Jeanie and Ann would have better luck.
Mrs. Grayson called to Jeanie and Ann. “What are you girls so involved in you can’t even say ‘hello’ to your own mother?”
They waved a hand in greeting, blushing with guilt for planning to chase off Miss Briggs. “They’re probably talking about boys,” Liz interjected, trying to cover for them.
“You look like you’re conspiring,” laughed Mrs. Grayson, not realizing that was exactly what they were doing.
They followed their mother up the walkway toward the red-brick house. When they reached the front door, they pulled back instinctively, reluctant to go inside just yet. They could hear Miss Briggs bustling about and weren’t ready to encounter her beady stares. “I think we’ll play outside until dinner is ready,” said Ann.
They watched through the window as their mother entered the foyer, then into the living room where Miss Briggs greeted her with a warm smile. Why couldn’t she see how evil Miss Briggs really was? It was so plain to see. It was in those beady, watery eyes.
####
Chapter 13: The Challenge
The day began like any other summer day--bright, sunny and hot. Liz hopped out of bed when she heard her mother stirring. “Mother,” she called from her bedr
oom. “Can I have a cup of coffee with you?”
“May I have a cup of coffee?” her mother answered, correcting her.
“May I have a cup?” she repeated.
“No, you may not. Pour yourself a glass of Vitamin C.”
“Okay,” she responded, pushing her lower lip out in a feigned pout. She returned to the table with a glass of orange juice, singing loudly, “A glass of Vitamin C, a glass of Vitamin C. Hi-ho the dairy-oh, a glass of Vitamin C.”
Her mother’s last words when she left for the farm were, “Liz, please stop that racket.” Liz waited until she was gone, then stomped up the stairs singing her vitamin song. Miss Briggs yelled from the kitchen, “Child, shut up that singing. It jangles my nerves.”
Liz hushed, and for an instant, lost her early-morning confidence to be really bad. She went to the third floor and complained to her two sisters, who were still in bed. “Miss Briggs told me to shut up.”
“Don’t let that stop you, Liz,” Ann responded. Egging her on, she said, “Keep it up. You’re doing great.”
“Yeah, Liz,” Jeanie interjected. “We could hear you all the way up here.”
“Those beady eyes scare me. They get all watery when she’s mad,” Liz explained.
“Come on, Ann,” said Jeanie, getting out of bed and slipping on her shorts and some sandals. “Let’s go downstairs with Liz. We’ll hang out nearby.” She turned to Liz. “You won’t be afraid now, will you?”
Liz nodded, even though she wasn’t that sure. Her eyes dilated and flashed with excitement rather than fear. “Just wait ‘til you see what I do next,” she stated confidently.
They went to the boys’ rooms and shook them. “Come on. Get up. This is our big day,” Jeanie reminded them. They rubbed the sleep from their eyes. “Come on.”
They all stomped down the stairs together, with Liz at the rear singing loudly. “This old man, he played one. He played knick-knack on my thumb. With a knick-knack, paddy-whack. Give a dog a bone. This old man came rolling home.”
Miss Briggs placed a steaming bowl of thick oatmeal in the middle of the table. “Child,” she yelled, looking at Liz with disgust, “I told you once already to shut up.”
“Yes’m,” Liz replied, wide-eyed, flashing her favorite innocent look.
Miss Briggs returned to the kitchen to eat alone in the breakfast nook. Liz started humming softly, then singing softly, “This old man, he played two. He played knick-knack on my shoe. With a knick-knack, paddy-whack, give my dog a bone, This old man came--.”
Miss Briggs shuffled in, her eyes wild with anger. Liz stopped singing and spooned some oatmeal into her mouth. Miss Briggs started to scold Liz, but was so angry all she did was growl, turn abruptly, and go back to the kitchen.
Jeanie winked at Liz, her signal she was doing great. Liz blinked back with both eyes, not having mastered the one-eye wink yet. Just knowing she was really upsetting Miss Briggs encouraged her to continue. She half sang, half hummed, “Dum-de-dum, dum-de-dum, dum-de-dum-dum on my knee. With a knick-knack, paddy-whack, give a dog a bone, dum-de-dum come rolling home.”
Miss Briggs slammed down her rolling pin, and stomped back into the dining room. She stood over the table and stared belligerently at each child. “Do the dishes,” she demanded, to no one in particular before stomping from the room in a puff of dust. She flurried up the stairs to her bedroom, mumbling all the way.
Liz continued singing, “This old man. He played four. He played knick-knack on my door, with a knick-knack, paddy-whack. give a dog a bone--” and on and on until they all wanted to yell “shut up Liz’, but refrained from doing so.
Ann offered to do the dishes. “Liz. Sing in your room where she can hear you.”
Liz happily skipped away, and hopped up the stairs on one foot, making loud thuds as her foot hit the next tread, the whole time singing, “This old man, he played six. He played knick-knack on my sticks--.” She went up another flight of stairs to her sisters’ bedroom, and slammed the door. Then she took a chair, and dragged it across the floor, making scraping sounds that could be heard two floors below. She heard Miss Briggs muttering to herself in the adjacent room. It’s working. It’s working, Liz thought, smiling broadly and laughing to herself.
With her confidence growing, she opened and closed the closet door, slamming it each time as hard as she could. If it wasn’t loud enough, she did it again.
Eventually Miss Briggs bolted into the room, arms flailing and beady eyes flashing with rage. “You girls shut up,” she screamed. When she saw it was only Liz, she became unglued, nearly uncontrollable. “Oh-h-h, it’s you. You need a good licking.”
“You can’t touch me,” answered Liz, openly taunting her. Inside she wasn’t feeling so brave, and her knees began knocking together.
“Insolent brat,” she shouted at Liz. “Get downstairs right this minute.” Her watery eyes were bulging, lready to pop out of their sockets. Liz quickly ran out the door and skipping down the stairs two at a time. Her heart was beating frantically when she reached the second floor landing.
Liz stopped and looked up. Miss Briggs wasn’t there, and feeling more secure, she started singing again, mostly to show she wasn’t scared. “This old man, he played seven. He played knick-knack in my heaven--.”
Jeanie interrupted her. “How did it go?” she whispered. “Did she get mad?”
“What did you do?” asked Ann, eager to know every single detail.
“Well-l-l,” Liz drawled slowly, obviously enjoying the special attention her sisters were bestowing on her. “I slammed the closet door, over and over. She about had a seizure.”
“No kidding,” Jeanie and Ann said, looking at each other with big smiles.
“What else did you do?”
“I dragged a chair across the floor, back and forth. It made these real loud scraping noises. It was worse than chalk on a blackboard. That really got her goat.”
“How do you know?”
“She came in and said she was going to hit me. Her eyes were all watery and her face was full of red splotches.”
“Were you scared?”
“Plenty scared. I ran down the stairs so fast I thought I was flying.”
“That’s the last straw,” Jeanie declared. “When Mother hears about this, she’ll throw Miss Briggs out on her ear.”
“No, she won’t, Jeanie. She’ll tell Mother I’m lying. And Mother won‘t believe me. It‘s her word against mine.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” answered Ann.
“It’s because you’re always exaggerating,” Jeanie added, exasperated that her plan to get rid of Miss Briggs wasn’t working.
Liz stomped her feet. “I don’t ‘zaggerate.”
“Let’s tell Mother we saw Miss Briggs try to hit Liz,” Ann offered.
“That’s lying,” Jeanie reminded her.
“Is it a white lie or a black one?” Liz asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jeanie answered impatiently.
Ann pointed a finger at Liz. “Look, this is your big day to shine. You can be bad all day, and no one’s gonna tattle. So get with it. Go on.”
“Miss Briggs will tattle,” said Liz, correcting her sister. She left the room and went outside to sit in the orchard where she could think of something really annoying to do without being interrupted. She laid down and stared at the red-brick house, wishing she was back on the farm.
Whenever the wind would blow, long branches from a beech tree swept across the windows in Miss Briggs’ bedroom --back and forth, back and forth. The slow movements of the limbs lulled her into a dreamlike sleep.
Then it hit her like a thunder bolt and she jerked awake. If the branches brushed against those windows continuously, the scraping would drive Miss Briggs crazy.
Liz strode nonchalantly over to the beech tree, and quickly crouched close to the trunk where she couldn’t be seen from above. She stretched her arms upwards and jumping up and down, tried to grab one of the lower branches--to no avai
l. It was impossible to reach, no matter how high she jumped. She sat back down on the ground, placed her chin in her hand, and put on her most disgusted look.
Neil and Ricky saw Liz sitting under the tree from a distance, and wondered why she was there, lost in thought. Ricky yelled, “Hey Liz, what’re you doing? Wanna play?”
“Can’t you see? Where are your eyes?” she answered. She jumped up and tried to reach the lower branch one more time. “Don’t just stand there. Help me. Do something.”
The two boys walked to the tree and stood observing her for a moment. Then Ricky said matter-of-fact, “You need a ladder.”
Neil agreed. “You need a ladder, Liz.”
“Well really. Duh-h. You guys are so bright.”
“Come on,” Ricky said, grabbing his brother’s arm, and taking him into the cellar. A few minutes later, they returned with a small step ladder.
“Oh,” Liz said with exuberance, sorry now for her sarcasm. “Thank you, guys. Thank you.”
Ricky stood the ladder under the lowest branch and held it steady while Liz climbed cautiously up to the tree branch. Once she got a toe-hold on the first limb, she climbed precariously higher and higher. When she dared go no further, she wrapped her legs tightly around the main trunk and began shaking the branches that leaned against the windows. Feeling safe in the tree, she continued her song as the branches swayed back and forth, scratching the panes. “This old man, he played nine. He played knick-knack on my dime, with a knick-knack, paddy-whack, give a dog a bone--.”
A splash of cold water hit Liz in the face. She nearly lost her balance, but managed to regain it, and stared smack-dab into the blood-shot eyes of Miss Briggs glaring out the open window. Oh boy, is she mad this time, Liz thought to herself with just a little misgiving that maybe she had gone too far. But she felt safer up in the tree, and not nearly as afraid of Miss Briggs as she was on the ground.
Miss Briggs yelled out a profanity and shouting at Liz, said, ”I’ll get you yet.”
When Liz decided she had annoyed Miss Briggs long enough, she climbed down the tree, and ignoring the ladder which Ricky had abandoned, she grabbed a vine and began swinging and screeching loudly, “Whe-e-e. I’m Tarzan of the Apes.”
Miss Briggs slammed her window with a loud bang. Liz couldn’t hold back her laughter.
“Hey, Liz,” Neil yelled. “Tarzan is a man.”
“So-o,” Liz yelled back, swinging back and forth, and yelling again that she was Tarzan.