The Magnetic Girl. Jessica Handler

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      A WEEK HAD PASSED since Dale’s departure, and The Truth of Mesmeric Influence was still in my room. I read every night and went about my business during the day as if I weren’t learning far beyond my school work. Still, Mrs. Wolf occupied my thoughts so much that one morning I nearly stepped on Daddy’s boot when I backed out of the chicken coop.

      “Missy, you and I will speak privately,” he said, flat. “Put the eggs in the kitchen. You have five minutes.” Anger shimmered around him.

      He turned and stalked into the house, his back rigid, his hands balled into fists. I never took a book from your shelf, I could say. I’d been so careful putting everything back and covering the slim empty space on his shelf. This might not be about the book at all.

      The walk to the back door, up the steps, and into the kitchen helped me count off what else might cause his anger. Right foot down; Leo was with Momma, so there was no neglect there. Left foot down; Mr. Campbell might have found the courage to tell him what I’d done in Sunday school, but Mr. Campbell wasn’t the type of person to admit something he didn’t understand. With each step a new idea arose, with the next, the idea was discounted. In the kitchen, the eggs went into a bowl, and I covered them with a cloth. They’d go into bread dough later. I left the kitchen door open. I could always run.

      My father’s chair creaked in his study, and he called my name.

      Wishing I were so small that my steps were silent, I went to his doorway. He didn’t look up from his ledgers. The way he sat, I could see his blond hair thinning on the top of his head, and I wanted to look away. He kept writing in his ledger. When he finally looked up, his mouth was set in a tight line. My stomach sank.

      “Give it,” he said.

      For a long second, I tried to convince myself that I didn’t know what he meant. But I knew. On the shelf, the space where The Truth of Mesmeric Influence had been was blank as a missing tooth. If I spoke up and pointed out that the very fact that I’d picked that single title from the shelf meant that it was destined for me, Daddy would have laughed.

      “My book, Lulu.” His voice was steel. “Leo certainly didn’t take it.”

      I hated when he dug at Leo.

      “The Truth of Mesmeric Influence is mine, Lulu. You know I don’t go in for that stupidity, but that book belongs to me and it’s not here. I didn’t lose it and your mother doesn’t care for it, which leads to the obvious deduction that you took it.”

      Daddy slapped a ledger shut, a smack I could feel on my face. All I could say was that I was sorry. I was sorry. I wished that I had stayed blessedly beside Leo that afternoon, untroubled by a cousin, or myself, or anything at all.

      He took a sheet of paper from his desk drawer and pushed it toward me. He pointed to his bottle of ink and his pen. His pocket watch ticked. I was on the high end of a seesaw in mid-lift, bracing myself to slam to the ground. Daddy sighed. He acted as if I were a child incapable of forming clear sentences, untrustworthy in my intentions. His word for what I’d done was “took.” Not my word. Mine would be “borrow.”

      “You’ll apologize to your cousin,” he said. “Right here, you’ll write a letter to Dale explaining how you made her act the fool and how sorry you are to have upset her.”

      She’d come in here a fool, and a vicious one, too. That wasn’t my doing. Daddy had never said one word to her about her rude remarks at supper the night I did what I did with the pin. A person who didn’t know him would think he’d forgotten it, but I didn’t see how he could have.

      “Write.” He pushed the paper toward me. “Dale left out of here sure we were experiencing the work of the Lord first-hand. You need to set that girl right and not have her telling a lie before God and everyone.”

      “Dear Dale,” I wrote. This was as far as I got for several minutes. Dear Dale.

      Dale would show this letter to girls I’d never meet. They would pass it among themselves, and who knows where gossip would take it after that. I’d be the butt of their jokes, and I wouldn’t be there to captivate those girls and make them mine, even if only for a beautiful minute.

       “I am sorry to tell you this but there was no work of the Lord from my hands in our house in Cedartown when you were our guest. I am afraid that I let my poor nature get the better of me.”

      If I could only tell those girls, “Oh, I was only playing a trick on Dale. She’s so easy to fool, bless her, that I couldn’t help myself,” they would laugh sweetly and rest their arms across my shoulders. They’d invite me to their homes, where the walls were freshly painted and the cushions plump, and we’d take a refreshing jaunt in the buggy after dinner.

       “Momma said that what happened in my bedroom came from electrical orbs, and I regret to tell you that I neglected to speak up and so let my mother make a false statement. There was no electricity or work of the Lord. The scarf was also my doing.”

      No, I’d never leave here. I would watch Leo all his days and marry some fellow who’d never been anywhere and had no wish to travel. I’d set up a home with him, and itch for the rest of my days for the freedom that came from doing what no one else around me could do.

       “I pray that you will understand and forgive me, and I remain, Your loving cousin Lulu.” СКАЧАТЬ