26
My grounding lasted for two weeks. I spent the entire time searching my room for my little green book. It had vanished.
Though I wasn’t allowed to have anyone over during that time, Paula-Jean and I managed to get caught up during recesses. No one else would have believed a word I said, but Paula-Jean did. She was the best friend anyone could have and I made a point of telling her each and every day just how much her friendship meant to me.
By the end of my grounding, Hollis was home from the hospital. Though, it would be another week or two before she was allowed to go to school. She called me once and we had a really nice chat. She said she never did see any clown at the hospital and though she asked several nurses, no one could either confirm or deny any such person helping out in the huge hospital.
Now that everything was slowly getting back to normal, I realized I had one last thing I had to do.
My first day of being un-grounded, I called Paula-Jean and asked if she would come by my house after school. Paula-Jean being Paula-Jean, agreed to help me with my plan.
I bought the holly bush at the nursery with money I’d borrowed from Jordan. Since they were fresh out of dwarf winterberry euonymuses, I was hoping that Mrs. Walker would like the holly bush just as much. At least it was a winter blooming bush. I made up my mind to visit Mrs. Walker once a week and help with her gardening come the spring. In the meantime, I’d told her I’d shovel her snow throughout the winter. Like the clown said, you can always find a way to help out in your community if you really want to. Mrs. Walker accepted my apology, my holly bush, and my offer of help. She seemed genuinely excited about someone coming over to chat with her about her shrubbery.
Satisfied I’d set everything right, I headed home. Paula-Jean and I parted at the corner. I thanked her for helping me fix things with Mrs. Walker. She gave me a hug and then headed for her house. I watched her disappear around the corner. I swore to myself I’d never take our friendship for granted again.
As for Hollis, I wouldn’t say we became good friends or anything, but let’s just say we began to tolerate each other’s presence a whole lot better. You could say we made peace with reality. And, as unbelievable as it sounds, Hollis actually signed up to read to little kids at the hospital on weekends as soon as she was well enough to do so. She convinced her mother she wanted to do it in place of modelling classes. And even more unbelievable, her mother agreed. Apparently Hollis thought she needed some character-cleansing after all.
As I made my way home I began to wonder about Wayne White. Who and what was he really? A writer? A publisher? A clown? A — dare I think it — witch?
I suppose in some way I got my answer. As I approached my house I saw something sitting on my doorstep. It was a plain, somewhat ragged bubble envelope. The name W. White and the post office box were crossed out and above it I saw my name scrawled across the top. No address. No postal code. Nothing but my name. I reached down and picked up the familiar envelope. I ripped it open, reached in and pulled out the contents. My socks. My sweaty, stinky socks.
In all the confusion in the city, I’d forgotten to ask Wayne White to give them back to me. Apparently, he had returned them after all. The thing was, I never gave him my address. As a matter of fact, I had never even told him my name.
I was about to head inside when something else fell out of the envelope. Of all things, it was my little green book! I held it for a moment in my hands, wondering. Then, for some reason, I opened it to the very first page. There was something I hadn’t noticed before. A foreword.
There is a great power that dwells in each of us — a power to alter oneself, others, and the world around. Seek to control the energy deep within your spirit, live wisely, and, above all, do no harm — then, and only then will peace and harmony be yours.
The White Witch
I smiled. Closing the book, I opened the door and headed into my house. Cyrus was waiting for me. I reached down and gave him a scratch behind the ear. He looked at me, then looked at the book in my other hand and snorfled.
“I know, Cyrus,” I said, smiling. “I know.”