Chapter Eleven

“Mother, this is Herbie and this is Isabelle,” Guy said.

“I’ve met Isabelle,” Guy’s mother said, not exactly unfriendly, but not exactly friendly, either. “Hello, Herbie,” she said.

Herbie was not at his best in front of strangers. He mumbled hello back and hid behind Isabelle.

“Would you like some juice and crackers, children? Guy, you may pour the apple juice and Becca will get the crackers.”

“Read any good books lately?” Isabelle asked Becca, joking.

Becca sighed elaborately and handed Isabelle a graham cracker.

Isabelle felt Herbie tugging on her. She reached around and slapped at him to cut it out.

Herbie drank two glasses of apple juice as if he’d just come from the desert. “Okay, where’s the hot water?” he demanded, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“If you’d like to wash your hands, Guy will show you to the lavatory,” Guy’s mother said.

“Outside, I meant.” Herbie slid halfway under the table as all eyes turned on him.

“There’s no hot water outside, only inside,” Becca said.

“I know what he means,” Guy said, coming to Herbie’s rescue. “When my father first said we were moving here, I dreamed that I fished out of my bedroom window. Just let the line down and lots of fish swimming under my window bit and I hauled ’em up and ate them right there on the rug. They were delicious,” he said dreamily. “I thought that was the way it was going to be, a little stream filled with hot water running under my window. I was disappointed for quite a long time.”

“That’s what I meant,” Herbie said. “I thought hot water ran down the street.” He didn’t say he was disappointed too, but Isabelle thought he was.

“You want to see my chains?” Becca asked Herbie, having taken a sudden fancy to him.

Herbie blinked. “What kind of chains?”

“Chain chains,” Becca said. “Come on.”

Herbie went reluctantly, sticking his thumbs in his belt and walking like a cowboy, which wasn’t easy considering he was wearing his old sneakers. Wait’ll he found out what all those dangling chains meant! Herbie’d freak out, Isabelle was sure. He’d only read about one book in his whole life. Every time he had to give an oral book report, he got up and said, “This is a story of a boy who was raised in the wild.”

Last time he’d pulled that, the class had groaned in unison.

“That will be quite enough, boys and girls,” Mrs. Esposito had said, trying not to smile.

Guy went upstairs to change his clothes before going out to play. That left Isabelle alone with Guy’s mother. Isabelle considered doing a tap dance to entertain Guy’s mother and started moving her feet, getting them warmed up.

“You’re not in Guy’s class, are you?” his mother said.

“Nope. I’m in fifth grade,” Isabelle replied.

“I thought you were too tall to be in the third grade. And Herbie? Is he in fifth grade too?”

Isabelle nodded.

“I would like Guy to have some friends his own age,” Guy’s mother said.

“Oh, he will,” Isabelle said grandly. “Just wait. Once he gets toughened up, he’ll have plenty of friends his own age.”

Guy’s mother raised her eyebrows. “Toughened up?” she said.

“Can I go up and see if he’s ready yet?” Isabelle asked, wishing Herbie would come out of Becca’s chain room and that Guy would come down in his old clothes and they could get the show on the road.

Guy came clattering downstairs just then, and Isabelle breathed a sigh of relief. Herbie came back too, looking stunned by his experience.

“He’s only read thirty-five books,” Becca told her mother. Isabelle glared at Herbie but he refused to meet her eyes. They both said “Thanks” to Guy’s mother and traipsed outside.

“Thirty-five!” Isabelle leaned on Herbie so hard he almost fell. “Who are you kidding?”

“How many books have you read?” Herbie asked Guy.

Guy looked at the sky, counting. “Oh, about a hundred, I guess,” he said.

“Have you got paper chains, too, in your room?”

“Some. Not as many as Becca. She’s a show-off.”

“How come you read so many books? How come your sister can read and she’s only six?” Isabelle asked.

“Well, she’s a gifted child,” Guy said.

Herbie’s eyes popped. “You shoulda told me!” he wheezed. “I never woulda gone into her room to see the chains if I knew that.”

“And also,” Guy said, “my mother read to us while we were still inside her stomach. That way, she figured we’d get started early.”

Astounded at this piece of information, Isabelle said, “Could you hear her?”

“I don’t remember,” Guy said truthfully. “I must’ve, though. My mother’s a librarian, too.”

“Oh.” Isabelle nodded wisely. “That explains it.” Herbie nodded wisely, too. They both felt better, knowing Guy and Becca’s mother was a librarian.

“Bet she’s always telling you to be quiet, huh?” Isabelle said, laughing.

Guy put his hand over his mouth and laughed through it, the way he did when he didn’t get something.

“Don’t you like to read?” he asked.

“I’d rather fight,” said Isabelle.

“Can’t you do both?”

Isabelle looked at the ground, then up at both boys. The thought had never occurred to her.

“I guess,” she said, doubtfully.