Текст книги "The Mystery of Drear House"
Автор книги: Virginia Hamilton
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 11 страниц)
“I’m too old and tired.” He sighed inwardly. Later he must take a tonic, get rid of a raspiness. He couldn’t bring himself to get up yet, fix the fire, make his coffee. He was soon asleep again.
For a while he slept heavily. But then his throat seemed to thicken inside. It hurt him in his sleep, and he couldn’t swallow well. All moisture appeared to leave his skin. A slight fever rose. So, again, did his dreaming.
7
THOMAS’S EYES SPRANG OPEN. He was lying on his back as straight as a board. His room was bright with morning. Saturday. He got up and hurried to get dressed in his weekend outfit of corduroys, sweater, jacket, and hiking boots. No telling what he and Pesty would do today, but he had a good idea. That is, if she came over today. She ran off from me, day before yesterday, he thought. She had to know Macky was there in the woods, and she didn’t tell me.
Still, he expected her today.
By seven-thirty Thomas was downstairs. His mother was up and about; he had heard her in the parlor and in the dining room. Now, she was in the kitchen. Much earlier he’d heard her leave and a car going down the drive.
Must’ve been Papa going. Mama driving him to work.
His papa had only two classes to teach on Saturdays. After that he would have time for lunch at home; his mama would pick him up in the car.
When he looked out the front door, Thomas saw Pesty just stepping up onto the veranda. He poked his head out, whispering, “Shhhh. Be a minute,” and closed the door again.
Pesty stood there with her hands pressed against her mouth. Her alert eyes watched the closed front door. Thomas pulled on his gloves and went quietly out. He walked around her and down the steps. “Wait!” she said.
“Shhhh!”
She caught up with him. “Didn’t your grandmom come visit?”
“I told you, she’s not—she’s my great-grandmother Rhetty Laleete Jeffers, and she’s here. And this is where she’ll live with us forever, too,” Thomas said.
“When can I meet her?” Pesty asked.
“Not yet, she’s not even up,” Thomas said. He was heading toward the shed where the twins had played and painted. They went around behind where they were hidden from view. They leaned against the side. Pesty peered anxiously at Thomas.
“It snowed,” he said by way of greeting.
“It blizzard, too,” she said. “I heard it.” She smiled brightly at him. But Thomas didn’t feel much like smiling back. She could tell then that he was not happy with her.
“Escort service!” she said suddenly, mischief in her eyes.
“Shhh!” he said. “Girl, what’s on your mind!”
She covered her mouth again a moment. She’d forgotten that the house was still half asleep. “I mean, I’ll escort your great-grandmother to Mr. Pluto’s.”
“You mean, we,” he said, but changed his mind. “Don’t you think someone who lives hereabout should come to meet the new neighbor first?” Thomas didn’t wait for an answer. “We’ll go over and get him and bring him back here to meet Great-grandmother Jeffers,” he said. “That’s what we’ll do. That’s proper.”
At once he set off, going around the hillside toward old Pluto’s. Pesty followed, upset that she hadn’t known what was proper. They would be the escort service for Mr. Pluto.
Snow packed beneath their feet. She had an idea of her own. “Mr. Thomas! You-all can come over to my house, too. Your grandmama can meet my mama!”
The idea stunned Thomas for a moment before he said, “Pesty, please don’t call me mister.” Maybe it would be all right to visit Mrs. Darrow.
“See, it’s okay for my great-grandmother to come visit your mother,” Thomas said. “See, because she, your mother, is—is an invalid.”
Pesty looked down at her hands.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me that?’” Thomas said. He stopped to face Pesty. “You let Macky tell me when it’s you and me together every Saturday, and then some. Macky says that your mother won’t get up out of bed for months at a time.”
Thomas left off when he saw how uncomfortable talk of her mother made Pesty. She had turned sadly away, and somewhat guiltily, too, it seemed to him.
“You could’ve told me your brother was out there the other day,” he said, changing the subject. “You didn’t have to run off like that.”
Pesty clutched one hand in another and seemed about to cry.
They were friends, and he was quick to soothe her. “Do you feel okay? Did you have some breakfast?” he asked her.
She nodded. She was missing buttons from her coat, he noticed. She had no hat on, and her neck was bare. “Pesty, where are your mittens?”
“Somewhere, I don’t know.”
“Well. Here, take mine.”
“No!” she said. “I don’t care nothing about it. I’ll put my hands in my pockets.”
“Oh, girl! Well, come on then!” He sprang ahead of her to lead.
Cutting across the hill and around was not difficult. Most of the snow had been swept away by the blizzard. Snowdrifts were like white ocean waves among a stand of shade trees just above them. The white waves bulged, about to break over them.
“Look at them over there!” he said over his shoulder again.
“The drifts look deep,” she answered.
“Maybe later we’ll jump in them,” he told her.
“They’ll be over my head,” she said.
“You won’t drown,” he told her.
“But how do you breathe under the snow?”
“There’s air, you’ll see,” he said.
“You’ll have ta go first,” she said.
“Of course, I will,” Thomas answered.
There was a clearing just before Mr. Pluto’s cave. They never cut across the clearing. Thomas felt like a target when he was in the midst of it. He skirted the clearing to come upon the cave at the side.
The heavy doors of the cave entrance were closed tight. Gently Pesty knocked. There was no answer, so she knocked a little louder. Still no response. She placed the flat of her hand on each door. She pushed and pushed again. But the doors did not spring open as they usually did.
“He must got them barred from inside,” Pesty said.
“Darn! I’d better call to him,” Thomas said.
“Unh-unh, don’t call him,” Pesty said. “He must be sleeping; only it’s too late for that.” She looked puzzled.
“He might be in the great you-know of the you-know-what.”
The way Thomas avoided saying the secret made her smile. “He always will wait for me,” she said.
Thomas had an anxious moment at the same time Pesty did. They stared at each other. “He ain’t ready to die,” she said finally.
“What do you mean by ‘ready’?” he said, astonished.
“They know things like that—old folks,” she said.
That could be true, he thought, but he said no more about it. “We have to get in there, see if he’s all right. Maybe I’d better go home, call my papa,” Thomas said. “Papa could break in the doors.”
“Nobody’s gone break them old doors, not unless they got an ax,” she said.
“Well, there’s an ax at the house. Papa got it not long ago,” Thomas said.
“Don’t need an ax,” she said, walking away from him.
“Hey!” Thomas watched her go a second before he followed. “Where are you going to, Pesty? You intend to disappear the way you did the other day?”
Pesty lowered her head, looking ashamed. Then she went on around to the right, away from the cave doors.
The ground angled down in front where the doors were, for here was a fault to the land. Long ago the ground had faulted on the outside top of the cave, above the doors. That was the reason anyone coming up to the cave doors stood before them on lower ground.
On the right and to the rear fault the top of the cave slanted down, like a thatch-covered roof. Pesty stood there at the downward slant. She reached for a clump of frozen thatch and held it tightly in both hands.
“Pesty, what do you think you are doing?” Thomas asked, coming up to her.
“Pulling,” she said. She looked all around; then she gave the thatch a hard yank. A chunk of it came off like the lid to a barrel. Not only did the thatch come off, but a jagged, crooked circle of ground came with it.
Thomas gaped. For there was a black hole in the slanted ground. Pesty quickly climbed up toward the hole.
“Pesty!”
“Shut up, Mr. Thomas,” Pesty said. “You want somebody …” But the rest of her warning was lost as she slithered into the black opening.
8
OH MAN! ANOTHER TUNNEL? A secret way into Pluto’s cave, Thomas thought. I never knew! Papa never knew. Or Mr. Pluto either?
He climbed up, going in just the way Pesty had, before he knew he would. I’m not going to like this, he was thinking. The way was narrow and black. He slithered in blindly and breathed the dank odor of a closed underground. There was no way to turn around to find out if he could see the light from the thatch opening.
Too narrow to turn, he thought. If you try it, you might get stuck. Oh don’t panic. “Pesty!”
“You got to move on down some,” he heard Pesty say. He was so relieved that she was there. “I’m right by you,” she said. “Just move on.”
“But how?”
“Move on! I got to git back there and grab that hole cover.”
He moved forward, sensing Pesty going by him. There must have been a niche in the tunnel side for her to fit into. Suddenly he remembered he had seen something attached to the cave lid. Rope and chain, twisted together. Must have been staked inside the cave wall somewhere, so the cover wouldn’t roll away. Someone in the tunnel would be able to pull it up by the rope chain and close up the hole as though it had never been. Pesty was about to do that.
Take it easy, he thought. Slaves must’ve been scared sometimes. Did they ever use this tunnel? It’s so dead dark.
He wasn’t going to move very far; he didn’t want to bump into anything unexpected. Then she was there behind him. “Move on out, Mr. Thomas,” she told him. “It ain’t far how.”
He never thought to correct her about saying “Mr. Thomas.” “Me, go first?” he said.
“I can’t get by you here. You got to go on first,” she said.
He knew he had to move. And he was moving, crawling and scooting along; crouching, never able to stand upright.
“Pesty! Where are we—” The tunnel turned abruptly. Thomas found himself up against the cave. “It ended,” he said. “We have to go back.”
“You just push at the wall with your hands,” Pesty said. “Press your hands, and slide them over on the right.”
Thomas put his hands against the coolness of the cave barrier in front of him. It was covered with moss. Damp rock and dirt. Gingerly he touched it, placing his palms against it. He pushed, pressing to the right as he did so.
It felt as if a boulder were rolling away, sliding out from under his palms. “I don’t believe this! Is this tunnel a real old one?” he asked.
He saw light, like shade. He saw huge horses right there in front of him.
“Just move real slow, Mr. Thomas. They ain’t going to bother you,” Pesty said.
As if in a trance, Thomas moved out of the opening and into the place of horses. It was a large horse stall. The horses whinnied softly and made room for him.
Pesty stepped out then. She went to the animals to pat their noses and stroke their necks. Their heads bobbed up and down as she slid her hands along their manes. They nuzzled her. “Good horses!” she told them. “Good ol’ Sam and Josie. You Mr. Pluto’s buggy ride. Haven’t been let out.
“They should be outside by now,” she told Thomas. “I’ll have to take them later.”
She left the horses. Thomas followed, closing the stall behind him.
“That back there is a secret tunnel,” he said to her.
“Might be secret to you, not to me,” she said.
“You never told us about it,” Thomas said.
“Nobody never did ask me. Wouldn’t want it to get known.”
He was dazed by what had happened, and he couldn’t think of anything to say. He followed her, realizing they were in familiar territory.
They walked inside Pluto’s cave. And there was Pluto, sitting by the fire, sipping from a glass carafe. He had a piece of wool wrapped around his throat.
Just like that, Thomas thought. A secret way in to see Mr. Pluto. He was amazed that ordinary life went on while he’d done something so strange.
There was the smell of camphor in the cave. Pluto looked surprised when he first saw them; then he smiled. “I see you come the back way. Well, I heard somebody at the door. Couldn’t yell. Hoarse. Figured whoever it was would come back later.” He raised the steaming carafe in greeting. “This here potion is for a slight cold in my throat.”
“Is it tea? Can I have some?” Pesty asked. “Does it taste good?”
“Tastes pretty bad, don’t think you’d like it, Little Miss Bee,” Mr. Pluto said. “But it sure has helped me some this morning fit for a fright.”
“You feelin’ sick?” Pesty asked him. She put her arm around his shoulder.
“It’s nothing much, some raspiness,” he said. “But, Miss Bee, I feel almost well when I see your face.” His mood changed, and his brows knitted together. “I won’t be scared. Whoever it was,” he muttered to himself, “he won’t be gettin’ nothing out of me.”
“Wha—what?” Thomas said, not sure he had heard right.
But Pesty was saying, “Mr. Pluto, you think you are well enough to meet Mr. Thomas’s great-grandmama?”
“Oh my!” Mr. Pluto exclaimed. “That’s right! I been feelin’ out of sorts some, I forgot she was coming. But you give me a day and I’ll be over there to welcome your great-grandmama, Thomas.”
“You can’t come back with us today?” Pesty said.
“Miss Bee, I get my feet wet again and I’ll have the pneumonia.”
“It’s okay,” Thomas was quick to tell him. “It can wait until tomorrow or the next day. Anyway, Great-grandmother Jeffers is going to stay with us forever.”
“That’s plenty time for me and her to get acquainted,” Pluto said, smiling at them.
Thomas was pensive before he said, “Did you say someone wasn’t getting anything out of you? Mr. Pluto … was there somebody here?”
“Dreams, is all, I expect,” Pluto said. He didn’t want to upset Thomas, or Pesty either. “But I feel a chill wind. Yes, it is,” he thought to add. “I do like to stay close to home such times.”
He turned his attention to Pesty. “Miss Bee, can you take care of the horses?”
“Sure can,” she said. “Mr. Thomas and me will do them.”
Thomas nodded to show that he was willing.
“Well, then I’m going to putter around here,” Pluto said. “Then I’ll lay down awhile again. That’s what old folks have to do when they get soreness. They have to lay down awhile again and again.” He chuckled.
“We could call a doctor for you,” Thomas said.
“No, son, you wait until I kick the bucket before you call the doctor.”
“Mama calls the doctor sometimes when I or my brothers are sick,” Thomas said.
But Mr. Pluto waved his hand, wouldn’t hear of it. “After the horses you-all can go on back home. I’m just going to lie about most the day. Keep warm.”
“You mean we won’t …” Pesty began.
Mr. Pluto stopped her before she finished. “… won’t go there this day.” He cocked his head slightly toward the hidden entrance to the great cavern. “Maybe walls have ears,” he added. “Real folks, maybe, living in dreams.”
Pesty looked solemnly at him.
“Miss Bee,” he said, “see how the snow lay. See to the way east and west.”
Pesty was going out, headed for the horses. Thomas followed, wondering what Pluto had meant. See to what way?
They went from the cave room down the short, dim tunnel back to the double stall where Pluto kept his horses. The horses neighed, glad to see Pesty again. Thomas saw that the cave wall at the back of their stall was closed. He hadn’t noticed when Pesty did that.
Nobody would ever know, he thought. But somebody knew. Pesty knew.
The horses, Sam and Josie, were bridle-and harness-wise. And it was easy to slip short ropes around their necks to lead them from the double stall.
Thomas and Pesty brought the horses back up the tunnel into the cave. Thomas unbarred the plank doors. Mr. Pluto was there, with a woolen throw about his shoulders, still sipping his tonic.
“Bye then!” Pesty called to him. “See you tomorrow!
“Bye!” Thomas said.
They headed the horses around to the fenced meadow. They cleared off the snow in the water trough and broke through the thin ice. There was still fresh water beneath. They added to it with snow that melted at once. Then they saw to the oats and hay.
“We still have most of the morning to fill up,” Thomas told her after they finished.
Pesty stared around them. She commenced walking the hillside from east to west. It was in the east that she bent low to study the snow-covered ground.
“What are you doing, girl?” Thomas said.
“Wait a minute, Mr. Thomas,” she said. She scraped away a top layer of snow. The ground did look slightly different here.
“Snow melted sometime in the night,” she told him. “Air turned warmer.”
“You see all that by just looking at the snow?” he asked. He hunkered down beside her.
“Well, now it’s colder,” she said. “The snow is packed and frozen and one layer stuck over the next, see?” she said.
If there had been tracks, they were certainly hidden now. But she knew something. She straightened up, gazing off to the west. She thought she saw impressions at intervals in the snow, going off into the woods.
She shivered slightly. Pesty could stand the cold most of the time. She had seen and walked snows and snows. There wasn’t much else to see in the wintertime. She knew tracks—melting, frozen, slippery, animal, human. “No kind I ain’t seen,” she murmured to herself, “but are these tracks?”
“That’s what you are searching for—tracks?” Thomas said softly, matching the level of her voice. He looked. Pretty soon he knew there had to be something there through the snow. The trail was nearly invisible. But someone had been where they were, maybe had come the way they had, through the hole, and had gone off the same way. It could have happened sometime in the night. “Yes, but whose tracks?” he said finally. “Was it—was it one of your brothers?”
When she was silent, he said, “Pesty, who was it came here? Did he come into the cave the way we did?”
“He?” she said. “I don’t know no he.”
“You know something. Now tell me!”
“What you talking about, Mr. Thomas? There was nothing. Those tracks is just animals going and coming, hunting shelter.”
She was protecting someone. Thomas was sure of it. “Was it Macky?” he said.
But she went on as if she hadn’t heard the question. “I come from here last night myself,” she said, “after evening, to see Mr. Pluto, and it was snowing.
“Is it time to meet your great-grandmama?” she said sweetly. She did not look him in the eye. “Can I meet her now?”
“Yeah!” Thomas said. “That’s a good idea. She’ll be up by now.”
“So …” Pesty said.
“Let’s go!” they said together.
They left then. Thomas let mysterious snow tracks drift out of his mind. Never seems to take as long going back home, he thought. Wonder why?
9
GREAT-GRANDMOTHER JEFFERS AWOKE to a pleasant day. The next moment she had to be seeing double. Leaning over her were two identical faces. The twins were dressed up, their hair combed, and they were grinning at her exactly the same way.
“Gray-grahma,” they piped in unison.
“Well, good morning!” Great-grandmother Rhetty Jeffers said.
“Good mornin’,” said Billy Small. At least Great-grandmother Jeffers thought it was Billy.
Buster jumped on the bed and crawled up beside her. He thrust a picture book at her. He had been holding it all the while.
“Read it me,” Billy said, climbing up on the bed and squeezing in next to his brother. Buster nodded.
Delighted, Great-grandmother Jeffers sat up comfortably against her pillows. “Let’s just see what it is you’ve got,” she said.
“Free Bears,” Billy said.
“The Three Bears!” Great-grandmother said, taking the book from Buster. “How long has it been since I laid eyes on The Three Bears! My! Used to read The Three Bears to Thomas all the time. And something called ...”
“Hector Protector,” Thomas said. He was there, standing in the doorway, with Pesty Darrow peeking around behind him.
“Well, good morning, Thomas,” Great-grandmother Jeffers said; “And good morning, there,” she added to Pesty.
“Hi! This is my friend,” Thomas said, coming in with Pesty. “She’s Pesty Darrow, the sister of Macky. I told you about him.”
“Well, I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Pesty,” Great-grandmother said.
“This is my great-grandmother Jeffers,” Thomas said to Pesty.
Pesty grinned and nodded. “Good morning,” she said.
“Good morin, Pesty!” piped Buster.
“Good mornin’, Pesty,” Billy said, correcting him.
“Hi, y’all,” Pesty said to the boys.
Great-grandmother grinned at Pesty. “Just call me Grandmother Rhetty if you want to,” she told her. Then she turned to Thomas and said, “Yes, it was Hector Protector. I remember now.
“Thomas, you still have that book?” asked Great-grandmother.
“I think so. I must’ve brought it.”
“Well, I hope so,” she said. “I’d like to read them old Hector Protector.”
“Hec, Brec,” said Billy.
Buster regarded him for a moment and then grabbed him. And they both fell over on the bed, giggling.
“You guys stop it!” Thomas said. “You’re going to hurt Great-grandmother, roughhousing like that.”
“They love to roughhouse,” Pesty told Great-grandmother.
“Billy and Buster might muss up their pretty outfits,” said Great-grandmother. “Where are they going, all spiffied up this morning?”
“Mama said something about taking them into town to look around at the nursery schools,” Thomas said.
“Oh, that’s right,” Great-grandmother said. “But I didn’t know she was planning on it today.”
“Guess she knew we would keep you busy, me and Pesty,” Thomas said.
“Well,” Great-grandmother said.
“Great-grandmother,” he went on, “we’ve been over to Mr. Pluto’s already.”
“That so?” she said.
“Yeah, and Mr. Pluto can’t come over until tomorrow. He’s got a sore throat, but he’s not real sick,” Thomas said.
“Well, I’ll bring him some of your mama’s soup, how’s that?”
“Or one of her pies,” Thomas said eagerly.
“I’d better get up from here then,” Great-grandmother Jeffers said. “I slept so good!”
“There was lots of noise last night,” Thomas said. He knew he must go on talking to keep her in bed a little longer. His mama had a surprise.
“Noise,” the boys said to Great-grandmother.
“It sounded like a blizzard came real fast,” Thomas said.
“A blizzard!” Great-grandmother said. “I didn’t hear a thing.”
“Well, I did. I think I heard it,” Thomas said.
“Goodness, what’s this congregation?” Mrs. Small came in, ready for a morning in town. “Morning, everybody,” she said, eyeing Thomas, Pesty, and the boys. “Grandmother Rhetty, good morning!” Martha Small said. “I hope you slept well, even with the storm last night.”
“Good morning to you,” Great-grandmother said. “Oh, I did sure sleep, I sure did. Martha, darlin’, this is the best old house for sleeping.”
“Don’t I know it,” Martha said. “But I hope some little boys and a big boy and girl didn’t burst in here to wake you up.”
“Pesty and me have already been outside,” Thomas said.
“Pesty and I,” Mrs. Small corrected.
“Well, Billy and Buster were crawling all over Great-grandmother when we got here,” Thomas said.
Billy and Buster scrunched low against Great-grandmother Jeffers. They grabbed the blanket to cover their faces. Buster thought to put The Three Bears on the very top of his curly head.
“Don’t think that’s going to hide you two,” said Mrs. Small.
“Don’t scold them, Martha. I just hope they come in to greet me every morning like this,” Great-grandmother Jeffers said. “I love to see their faces exactly alike smiling at me. And we’re going to read a story.”
“You’ll get to hear a story later, boys,” Martha Small told her sons. At once she put a finger to her lips, warning them to keep still. They were quick to understand. They watched her as she winked at Thomas. Thomas hurried out. They could hear him taking the stairs two at a time.
“What are you-all up to?” Great-grandmother Jeffers said, smiling.
“Read me!” Billy commanded. Buster was searching for the book. He’d lost it in the jumble of bedcovers. Billy gave him a push.
“Stop that,” Martha told him. “There’ll be time for stories later. Grandmother Rhetty, I’m sorry, but we have to be going. Boys, we have to go visit some schools. They are getting to be too much even for me,” Mrs. Small explained.
“But the both of us together, couldn’t we both handle them?” Great-grandmother Jeffers asked.
Mrs. Small shook her head. The land, full of caves, was on her mind. It was no place for boys to be free to roam. “It’s time they played with other children. You know, they never have much,” she said.
“Billy, Buster, move out the way!” Thomas yelled. He was back. Pesty had slipped out of the room, unnoticed, and now had returned with him. He had a breakfast tray for Great-grandmother Jeffers. It was the surprise.
“Oh!” Great-grandmother exclaimed. “I thought it would be nice if we spoiled you today,” Martha said.
“Oh my! You-all shouldn’t’ve gone to such trouble,” Great-grandmother said.
Gingerly Thomas carried the tray to her bedside. He was perspiring, for it hadn’t been easy getting up the stairs.
The twins scrambled to the foot of the bed as Thomas and Pesty placed the tray across Great-grandmother’s lap. The tray had panel legs that rested on each side of her. “Look at this!” said Great-grandmother Jeffers. “Thomas, you made these pancakes?”
“No, I just took the plate out of the oven and put everything on the tray.”
“Well! Martha, this is so sweet of you!” she said. “Billy, Buster, you’re going to help me with this food. And orange juice, too. And bacon, goodness!”
There was a neatly folded blue napkin next to the plate. There was silverware. Butter, syrup. The tray did look nice. “Come on, boys!” Great-grandmother said. “Get some of my pancakes.”
“Now take it easy.” Thomas warned his brothers.
They took it easy. They climbed down to stand by the bed next to the tray. “Pan-cakes!” said Billy. “Cakes!” Buster whispered.
They stood in line. Buster was first. Great-grandmother Jeffers spread butter and syrup on the pancakes. She cut a nice piece, speared it with her fork, and held it out to Buster. He took it all in one bite. “Ummmm!” he said.
Next, Billy took his portion in two bites. “Ummmm-huuum!” he moaned happily.
“That’s it, you guys,” Martha said. “We have to get going. Thomas, come help me with their coats and boots.”
Thomas and Pesty both helped, standing by the closet in the downstairs hall. The boys liked to grab Pesty around the neck. With their combined weight, they could topple her to her knees.
“Goodbye! Grandmother Rhetty? We’re going,” Martha called up the stairs.
“Bye!” said Billy and Buster. Now in their snowsuits, they were eager to go.
“Bye, you-all, have a good time,” Great-grandmother called from her room.
“Bye,” Thomas said.
“Bye, y’all!” Pesty added.
Then they were gone in the car. Pesty and Thomas watched it go down the road. By the time the two of them were back upstairs, Great-grandmother Jeffers was out of bed and in her bathrobe. The breakfast tray was on the floor.
“Take the tray, please, Thomas,” she said.
“But you haven’t eaten hardly a thing,” Thomas said.
“I know it,” Great-grandmother said. “I never eat much for breakfast. You-all wait for me downstairs,” she said to them. “I’ll get dressed and we’ll go.”
“We’re going to Mr. Pluto’s?” Thomas asked.
“Why not? Just let me get ready!” she said.
