I threw myself to the floor, ignoring the shards of broken china and the puddle of scalding tea. I closed my eyes and screamed again. I stopped moving and stopped breathing. My ankle throbbed as if it would split open.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know, ma’am.”
“Is she alive?”
“I don’t know, sir.” Peg’s voice was hardly a whisper. “She said the ice was too cold and then she begun that screaming and fell to the floor like a sack of sugar.”
“Let’s get her up out of this mess,” said Mr. Poole.
I tensed all my muscles. Mr. Poole, Mama and Peg gasped. An excellent reaction. I took in a long, juddering breath. I flopped loosely on the floor, exhaled and lifted my eyelids. I gazed up at them calmly, with both my eyes. Peg was the first to realize.
“Annie?” She waved her fingers in front of my face, checking my focus.
“Hello, Peg,” I said. No sloppy tongue, no waver, no twitch. “My ankle hurts like the devil and I seem to be sopping wet.”
“Annie?” said Mama.
I kept looking at Peg, not wanting to risk Mama’s gaze just yet.
“What’s happened?” cried Peg, but answered herself at once. “She’s cured, ma’am! I can tell by her eyes!”
I gave her my loveliest closed-mouth smile.
“Oh, ma’am!” cried Peg. “It’s a miracle!”
“It’s not a miracle,” scoffed my mother. “Miracles don’t happen like that, without saints and prayers and rolling thunder.”
“But you did pray, Caterina,” said Mr. Poole. “You laid your hands on her and begged that she be healed. This … this may be your doing.…” His voice dwindled in amazement.
But Peg began to squeal. “Stand up, Annie! Can you walk all right? Annie, stand up! It’s a miracle, ma’am! You’ve worked a miracle!” Peg picked me up and spun me around, or tried, anyway. She started to laugh and so did I, giddy and jubilant.
Mr. Poole stood next to Mama, staring at me, adjusting his glasses. Mama’s eyes locked with mine. I was certain she was calculating her options. But I had her. I watched her inhale and speak the opening lines of a new play.
“I suppose,” she said, putting on a modest glow, “that with help from the stars above, it is possible that I have saved my precious daughter.” She stretched out her hands, staring at them as if amazed by what they had done.
I had never written the script before, and here was Mama, following my lead! I was nearly dizzy with triumph. Peg squealed again and squeezed me. Mr. Poole squeezed Mama. Mama blushed, but she was watching me. I smiled. Deception ran in the family, after all. Mama had taught me to lie. She should be proud of me.
“I’m a bit tired,” I confessed.
“Oh, my dear! It’s straight to bed with supper on a tray!” Peg hustled me off to have a bath and snuggle under the quilt, where she brought me a soft-boiled egg and sugary tea.
When Mama had finally said good-night to Mr. Poole and came in to see me, I was asleep. Faking sleep was nothing after faking daft.
But she was sitting on the end of my bed in the morning.
“Aren’t you the clever one,” she said.
“Good morning to you, too,” I said, sitting up, cramming the pillow behind my back, certain I was in for a long talk. But suddenly I was grinning, silly almost, knowing I had changed the world.
“Isn’t it the most marvelous day?” I edged my ankle out from under the blanket. It was stiff and still quite puffy.
“The healing was an admirable idea, Annie, but clumsily executed and badly timed.”
“Ah, Mama, can’t you for once admit that I was clever? It worked brilliantly! Mr. Poole was astounded. Peg nearly died of happiness.”
“It was not clever to waste a phenomenon on such a small audience! Naturally, I’d had the same idea,” Mama said. Naturally, I thought. “But I was waiting to heal you when it would work to our best advantage. This way, how do we benefit?”
“We benefit, Mama, because I can now be as clever as I am. I was tired of being stupid and ugly, especially if you plan to stick around here for a while.”
She considered me. “You have overstepped yourself,” she said, very quietly. “You are not to make any further decisions without consulting me.”
“It was a spontaneous inspiration,” I protested.
“There is no room for spontaneity in our lives, Annie. I’m surprised at you. Have you forgotten what happened in Carling?”
Meanwhile, Peg had been a gossip marvel. When I stepped outside with my hair brushed and my lips shiny with petroleum jelly, there was a gaggle of ladies already waiting to see Madame Caterina. We were suddenly the most popular attraction in all of Peach Hill. Every lady would be contributing to our house fund, and they all were watching me.
“It’s her!”
“She’s the one!”
“Look, two good eyes!”
I felt radiant, and then I choked. Sammy Sloane was leaning against the side of the building, scooter rocking under his left foot.
“Hey,” he said. “I heard about you.”
Oh, please let my voice sound calm! I thought. I will never have this chance again.
“Yup,” I said. “It’s a miracle.”