A Bundle of Trouble. Jacqueline Dembar Greene

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      Francesca beamed. “Go on—you eat the rest.”

      “Why, thank you!” Rebecca took the dripping cone. In the buggy, Nora started fussing again.

      “Is your sister?” asked Francesca, leaning over the buggy.

      “Oh, no. I’m just minding her for a while.”

      Francesca spread out a blanket on the grass and beckoned for Rebecca to join her. Francesca untied the shawl and lowered her baby sister to the blanket. The dark-eyed baby kicked happily and cooed up at her big sister. In the buggy, Nora was crying harder.

      “Your baby, she like to play with my sister?” asked Francesca, leaning over the buggy.

      “I don’t think so,” said Rebecca. “She’s pretty fussy. I’d better take her home—oh, wait!” she cautioned as Francesca reached into the buggy and lifted Nora out. Now Nora would probably fuss even more. But no—the Brodskys’ baby stared at Francesca, round-eyed, and stopped crying.

      “She likes you,” said Rebecca.

      “I like babies,” said Francesca simply, and she laid Nora on the blanket next to Vincenza.

      “They look like sisters,” Rebecca remarked, admiring the babies’ black curls and dark eyes. They were both wearing long white flannel nightgowns. The breeze grew brisk, so she tucked the blanket from Nora’s buggy over both infants to keep them warm. “They could almost be twins, like my big sisters—oh!” she broke off as a red ball bounced across the blanket.

      Francesca caught it and tossed it to a boy standing by the duck pond with a puppy frolicking at his side. Rebecca glanced at him, and then looked again. Why, it was the same boy she had seen at the shop! Was he following her? But how could he be, when she had just arrived, and he was already playing here?

      When he saw Rebecca looking at him, he grinned, and then he turned away and threw the ball into the pond. The puppy dove in and swam to retrieve it.

      “You know this boy?” Francesca asked. “Go and play with dog! I watch babies. You go!”

      “Oh, no,” said Rebecca. “I don’t know that boy—I just saw him earlier.”

      There was a silence between the girls as they watched the boy and the puppy at play. With both babies napping peacefully on the blanket, it was pleasant to sit in the autumn sunshine. Rebecca wondered where Francesca lived and was just about to ask when Francesca spoke first.

      “I have seven brothers and one sister,” she said. “What about you?”

      “Seven brothers!” exclaimed Rebecca. “I have only two brothers and two sisters.”

      “And school? You like?”

      “Yes, most of the time,” said Rebecca. “Do you like your school?”

      “I have nice teacher,” said Francesca. “She helping me learn English. She say I will speak perfect English when I grow up.”

      “I’m sure you will,” Rebecca said warmly. “My cousin Ana hardly knew any English when she came here from Russia, and now she’s doing just fine.”

      “When I grow up,” said Francesca, watching the boy with the puppy, “I want to be fine dressmaker, make beautiful clothes.”

      “I want to be a movie actress,” Rebecca confided. Her family always said she had a flair for drama, and once she’d even visited a movie studio and played a small part in a movie. But her parents wanted her to become a teacher.

      “I make beautiful costumes for your movies!” Francesca plucked at Rebecca’s sleeve. “My neighbor, she is teaching me,” she added proudly. Francesca told Rebecca that she hoped soon to be able to make all her own clothes and clothes for everyone in her family. “I practicing every day,” she added. “And look here, I sew the corno into the hem.” She turned up the edge of her skirt to show Rebecca a little hand-stitched animal horn in gold embroidery thread. “Is for a blessing. Against the, how you say? The evil eye—to keep us healthy. Some people wear a corno necklace of gold or silver for good luck, but we—we sell our…our everything to pay for boat to America. My mama, she say that not matter—a charm of thread is working just as well.”

      “It’s so pretty.” Rebecca knew that some Americans carried a rabbit’s foot in their pocket for luck. Bubbie said that in Russia people painted intricate designs on eggs to ward off trouble. The Irish had four-leaf clovers. Maybe Mrs. Brodsky should sew a little Italian blessing onto the hem of Nora’s nightgown, Rebecca thought with a smile. Perhaps that would make the fretful baby stronger and healthier.

      Then she remembered Mrs. Brodsky’s eyes. She was just about to tell Francesca about poor Mrs. Brodsky, who used to be a dressmaker but could no longer see to sew, when a policeman started walking up the path toward the girls, and Francesca clutched Rebecca’s arm.

      “Quick!” Francesca hissed. “Hide!

      5

      A Dreadful Mistake

      “Why do we need to hide?” Rebecca asked, puzzled. But the policeman approached the girls before Francesca could answer. Rebecca smiled politely when he stopped in front of them. In his arms was the puppy that had been swimming after the red ball. The policeman was young, with a broad freckled face and piercing eyes. Rebecca’s smile faded at his stern expression. “Is this your dog?” he asked.

      “No, sir,” said Rebecca. She glanced around. The boy was no longer in sight.

      Francesca flinched. “Dog is…mine,” she whispered.

      Rebecca looked at the other girl in surprise. She had assumed the puppy belonged to the boy. Why hadn’t Francesca mentioned that the puppy was hers? And why did she look so frightened?

      The brisk breeze started blowing harder. “Please see that he stops menacing the ducks,” the policeman said brusquely, handing the dog to Francesca. “Put him on a leash!”

      Francesca just stared at the ground and didn’t reply, so Rebecca spoke up. “We’ll keep him with us,” she promised.

      The policeman nodded and walked off.

      Clouds scudded across the sky and the wind blew chill. In the distance, thunder rumbled. A few drops of rain began to fall. The girls turned hurriedly back to the babies on the blanket. Francesca’s face was pale.

      “I didn’t know this was your dog,” Rebecca finally said.

      “He is pest,” said Francesca.

      “Why were you afraid of the policeman?” Rebecca pressed. “We weren’t doing anything wrong.”

      “He maybe take me to jail for letting the dog run free.”

      “Of course he wouldn’t! Anyway, the police have more important things to worry about. Like thieves and…and kidnappers!”

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