Repercussions

Veronica walked to school Monday morning a changed person. A whole and complete person. A dog person. She skipped and sang and couldn’t wait to get on with the day, because in just six hours she would be walking back home to Cadbury. She was dying to tell everyone, to tell anyone, the news about Cadbury. Without realizing, she walked a block past Randolf and had to turn around. Lord knows what other mistakes she would make today because of being distracted by thoughts of her new friend.

As usual, bunches of girls were clustered outside the front door. The subject today was Sarah-Lisa’s party.

“OMG. The sunset. It was the best candle walk ever,” Auden Georges said. Auden Georges had an English accent, which made everything she said sound so much more intelligent than anything anyone else said. Veronica inched in a little closer, hoping to share her news.

“You guys, my mom totally freaked about how late we went to bed and I totally lied to her. I said we went to sleep at one,” Darcy Brown said.

“Are you talking about the party?” Becky Shickler said. “It was so fun!”

The party. The party. The party. That was all anyone wanted to talk about. Veronica looked for Melody. Maybe Melody would care about Cadbury. Where was Melody when you needed her?

The front doors opened and the girls started inside. Athena and Veronica found each other and linked arms.

“Where were you?” Athena asked.

“The most amazing thing happened,” Veronica said. She squeezed Athena’s arm.

“More amazing than a once-in-a-fall equinox?” Sarah-Lisa asked.

Veronica should have known Sarah-Lisa wouldn’t be far from Athena for long.

“I got a dog!” Veronica said. The words tumbled out like cartwheels.

Sarah-Lisa took Athena by the other arm, saying, “I have to show you something in my locker.”

“Right now?” Athena said. “Can’t it wait till we all get upstairs?”

“Not really,” Sarah-Lisa said, and pulled Athena away.

Veronica tried to blend into the crowd.

*   *   *

Ms. Padgett’s lips moved during main lesson, but Veronica had no idea what they were saying.

“So who can tell me what citizenship means?” Ms. Padgett said.

“It means being a useful member of your country?” Melody Jenkins called out.

Veronica doodled Cadbury’s name surrounded by question marks up and down the margin of her loose-leaf. Saying the right answer mattered more to Melody Jenkins than anything in the world, possibly even more than the children’s chorus at the Met. Why Melody Jenkins didn’t end up in the emergency room every week with a dislocated shoulder from extreme hand raising was a mystery.

“Melody, let’s give other students in class a chance. Veronica? Did you do anything this weekend that displayed good citizenship?”

“Um, I cleaned up my new dog’s poop,” Veronica said.

“That’s why you skipped my party?” Sarah-Lisa said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone laughed, even the teacher.

“Excellent,” Ms. Padgett said. “You took care of an animal by giving it exercise and you took care of the city you live in by not littering. You were an excellent citizen indeed! Sarah-Lisa, I am sure your party was spectacular, but let’s stay on topic. Shall we? Anyone else?”

“I think I am on topic,” Sarah-Lisa said. “I have my beginning-of-the-year party as a way of building community,” she continued. “I was being a good citizen.”

Veronica wanted to disappear.

“It’s wonderful how inclusive your parties are, Sarah-Lisa. It must feel disappointing when people don’t accept your kindness and yet, to embarrass people in front of other people is also unkind,” Ms. Padgett said. She smiled at Veronica, who was grateful. “Please bear in mind, though, that everyone moves at their own pace through their own lives,” Ms. Padgett continued. “Any other ways people practiced good citizenship?”

“My father was going to throw out some yogurt containers. But I washed them and packed my lunch in them,” Sylvie said.

Sylvie reminded Veronica of an old Sasha doll she had loved but then ruined by giving her too many haircuts. Sylvie should really deal with her hair. Or join a motorcycle gang and live in a basement somewhere.

“This is great, you guys,” Ms. Padgett said.

Veronica wished she had been the only good citizen in the class. She knew this wasn’t very nice and would not make the world a better place, which was sort of the whole idea behind good citizenship. But she had liked it when Ms. Padgett had singled her out.

“I took the bus to lunch with my grandmother instead of driving. My parents always take the driver,” Darcy said.

“I see a theme in our class. Does anyone else?”

“Global warming?” said Melody Jenkins.

“Yes, Melody,” Ms. Padgett said. Melody’s head swiveled around, grinning. “I think many of you share a concern for the environment, which is absolutely wonderful and it means you are going to love this year’s curriculum because we are focusing on ways people and progress and society affect the environment.”

Funnily enough, Veronica had thought about the very same thing yesterday. She and her mother had been going to buy Cadbury a toy and Fifth Avenue was being attacked by jackhammers. Construction workers were busting up chunks of concrete and Veronica watched spellbound. Under Fifth Avenue was just dirt. Dirt and roots and pebbles and bugs and who knew what else.

“Don’t you remember all the pictures of the olden days in the Museum of the City of New York? Most of Manhattan was once farmland. It wasn’t always a city,” her mother had said. It was so obvious. Cities weren’t literally made of concrete. The concrete was on top of the dirt. Thinking of New York City without sidewalks—being a giant patch of weeds and wildflowers—was amazing to the mind of a city girl like Veronica.

“Let’s look at the closing lines of that poem by Yeats that I asked you to read this weekend,” Ms. Padgett continued. The girls opened their books and Ms. Padgett read aloud:

O chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer,

Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?

O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,

How can we know the dancer from the dance?

“All right, my ladies, any thoughts?”

When Veronica read the poem over the weekend an image of a tree came clearly into her mind. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a chestnut tree in real life so she compared her idea against reality by looking on the Internet. The image of the actual chestnut tree was very similar to the one she’d imagined. When her intuition was correct like this it made her think that her own brain was full of everything she would ever need to know if she only knew how to access it. She wanted to express this to Ms. Padgett, but she didn’t know how without sounding stupid.

“Okay,” Ms. Padgett said, “let’s start with the beginning. What do you see in your mind?”

“A giant tree,” Becky Shickler said.

“Did anyone else see a giant tree?” Ms. Padgett asked. Almost everyone’s hands shot up in the air. Melody was waving hers around like crazy. “Can anyone describe the tree they saw? Veronica, what about you?”

Melody slumped. It must hurt her—physically—not being called on. Veronica couldn’t believe she was being called on again. She preferred not to speak in public and Melody Jenkins lived to speak in public. It wasn’t fair.

“Well,” Veronica faltered, “I saw a big wide tree with a lot of shade underneath. Which was weird because I didn’t actually know what a chestnut tree looked like but when I looked it up it looked just like I’d imagined it.”

“Did anyone else research what a chestnut tree looks like?”

“I wanted to, but I was scared it would be cheating?” Melody Jenkins said. Veronica’s cheeks flushed.

“It is never cheating, Melody, to answer questions that are on your mind,” Ms. Padgett said. “Let’s collaborate as a class by exploring this picture.” Ms. Padgett hung a reproduction of a painting by Renoir on the wall. “This is one man’s picture of a chestnut tree. Does it match what you saw in the poem?” The painting was of a riverbank and a large tree. Before she could control herself Veronica’s arm was in the air. What if she was turning into Melody Jenkins?

“Veronica?” Ms. Padgett asked.

“Well, not to knock Renoir or anything, but if I was going to illustrate the poem, I would pick another picture.”

“Why?”

“Because to me the poem is saying there is no end to the tree. The branches, the leaves, the bark, the chestnuts are all the same thing. So when I think of that I think of just one giant tree. Not a landscape. Although I guess that picture could be saying the whole world is connected, which reminds me of Morning Verse. The way it says that the sun and the stars and the beasts and the rocks are all kind of connected inside us.” Veronica had never talked so much in front of a class before in her entire life.

“Excellent!” Ms. Padgett said. “You know, girls, most of us have been saying that verse every day for so long, I wonder if any of us give it any thought anymore. It’s good that Veronica reminds us.” Veronica blushed. Her cup runneth over. Ms. Padgett had complimented her in front of the whole class! But what if the other girls thought she was trying to be the teacher’s pet? She’d never be able to keep the proverbial glass full. Mary would be so disappointed.