CHAPTER SEVEN
STEPPING LIGHTLY

Classes ended at noon on the last day of school and I picked my way home slowly, dodging here, hiding there, guarding against being spotted by Bruno, who, I assumed, cruised the neighborhood on perpetual watch for me, ready to send me to Kingdom Come the second my guard was down.

I had had the most unbelievable luck avoiding Bruno lately. It was almost like he wasn't even around. But wherever he was, it wasn't near me, so I was glad enough. Making my way slowly though the woods at the end of the street my building was on, I pretended I was a soldier, picking his way home through enemy lines. Which was, more or less, the truth, after all.

At last a broad field arose. The end of my cover. I would have to come out in the open to get home from here. There was just no getting around it. I hesitated, building up my courage, drawing little lines in the dirt with my toe, checking to make sure there was no Bruno in sight. But no matter what I did, I just could not quite work up the guts to step out into the field and go home. On the very last day of school, without Bruno even being in sight, he had beaten me. All the courage was utterly drained out of me, and there was nothing left. I dropped my schoolbag in the soft dirt and fought back the tears I was sure were coming.

Someone touched my shoulder. A cry of horror escaped me as I spun to face Bruno...

Only it wasn't Bruno, it was Karen. Karen McTree.

"Whoa, take it easy," she laughed.

I managed not to hit her, though I wanted to down to every last hair on my body. "Jeez!" I quailed. "Are you trying to scare a guy to death??!"

Karen's face dropped. "I'm sorry," she babbled, "I didn't mean to scare you... I just thought it would be funny if I..." She trailed off as I glared at her. "I'm sorry," she repeated sheepishly, crossing her arms and uncrossing them nervously.

Right away it went through my mind that I was glad no one had seen Karen touch me -- I didn't care to be taunted for carrying her 'germs' again. A pang of guilt immediately tore through me for thinking that. "How'd you find me?" I asked, finally.

"Sorta... followed you," she smiled.

"Why?"

"Oh... I dunno. For something to do."

"There are lots of better things to do than follow me," I told her icily.

"Are there?" asked Karen. She glanced up into the trees, past me into the field, and said breezily, "If you say so. Personally, I'm bored, and when I saw you, I thought maybe..."

I closed one eye and regarded her sternly. "Maybe what?"

Karen sighed and shrugged. "Nothing, I guess." She padded aimlessly about the tiny glade we stood in, neither staying nor leaving, just moving.

I took a chance, and said, "What, were you following me to talk to me, or something?"

"I guess so. Something like that."

"Why don't you talk to girls?"

Karen shrugged again and said, "You wanna do something?"

"Like what?"

"Go for a walk. Climb a tree. Something."

I picked up my schoolbag. "Bruno's looking for me. I gotta get home."

"Oh," she said quietly.

My mention of Bruno reminded me of the events behind the school, and I asked Karen, "Did you bring that teacher over the other day? When Bruno was going to beat me up?"

Karen nodded, smiling wanly, probably not sure if I'd be grateful, or mad that I got in trouble.

"Well, thanks," I said. "He was ready to cream me."

"I noticed. You're welcome. Why were you doing it? Didn't you know he'd be mad?"

"Sure I did!" I snarled. "But it wasn't my idea. It was Teddy Whitetip's idea. He was supposed to be looking out for Bruno for me. Instead, he went and got him. Got me to do his dirty work, and then brought Bruno over to entertain him."

"You're kidding," Karen sighed.

"No. I swear it."

"Teddy's a real creep."

"Yeah, he is," I nodded, certain. "For a little while he had me thinking I was his friend."

"The other Karen used to be like that with me," Karen McTree said softly.

"Oh, yeah?" I said, a bit surprised.

"Yes," Karen replied, wistfully. I stepped along slowly with her. Without realizing it, I'd let her lead me down to a tiny valley, and she and I were winding our way along beside a noisy little brook. We were going for a walk together -- unofficially; since I'd never agree to go for any walk.

"What happened?" I asked her.

"I don't know. They just don't like me, I guess."

"There must be a reason," I prodded.

She looked at me, steady and quiet. Her voice seemed to come up of the brook as she said, "Sometimes, there's just not."

"You must have done something," I told her.

Karen stirred the water lazily with a stick. "What did you do to Bruno?"

"Nothing!" I shot instantly.

"Well, there you go," she replied.

Karen had on a light summer dress whose hem ended at about her knees so it was no trouble at all for her to step in and out of the water as we wandered along She would pause from time to time to dig a rock out of the muddy bank as we wandered, and throw it into the water. For myself, I would take long sticks and poke them into the mud, testing the depth and consistency. Karen noticed my reluctance to step into the creek. "It's summer now," she advised me. "You should wear shorts."

"I don't like shorts," I told her, drilling a stick into the mud by the bank.

"Why not?"

I considered that. My answer had been too hasty. "Well, it's not that I don't like them, just that I like these jeans."

"What's so great about them?"

"Well, they're black." I threw a rock into the water, careful not to splash Karen. She was looking at me like what I'd just said made no sense at all. I explained, "Ever since I found out jeans come in other colors than blue, I just always wanted a pair of black jeans, that's all."

"That's fine," she said. "But you don't have to wear them every day, do you?"

I squirmed, a bit uncomfortable. How could I explain to her that having my black jeans and blue shirt and happy face button kept me safe? It didn't make sense even to me, but that was how I felt. But I wasn't comfortable discussing it, so I rolled up my cuffs and stepped into the cold, quick water, and that seemed good enough for Karen for the time being.

The stream eventually cut its way behind one of the small strip malls in Pemrick that was all the townspeople really had -- not like the huge indoor malls of the city that I remembered. Karen and I stood for a moment, watching the traffic come and go, mothers with babies in strollers and cars shining hot in the sun. Just then I heard a jingling, and someone yelling. We turned in the direction of the new sounds.

"Mother Mudpie's Homemade Ice Cream! Introductory offer, half-price, limited time only! Mother Mudpie's Homemade Ice Cream! Introductory offer, half-price, limited time only!" It was a teenager, half again as old a s us; a sandy-furred boy pedaling a small ice cream cart decorated with the logo I'd seen on the truck and the billboard a week or two before. The boy drove slowly past us, shouting, jingling, unaware we were watching from the brush.

Karen stared, a bit sad, clearly wanting to try it out. "Sure wish I had some money," she sighed.

"Not me," I replied.

"She looked at me in amazement. "What?? Oh, yeah, that's right... you said you don't like ice cream."

"I didn't just say it, I meant it."

"How could anyone not like ice cream?" she chuckled.

"I just don't. My Mom tells me it's because once when I was a baby, I got sick, real bad... She gave me some ice cream to make me feel better and it just made me feel ten times worse, and I got sick on it. I've never been able to stand the stuff for as long as I can remember." I watched the boy circle the parking lot and finally come to a stop at the center.

"Wow!" Karen breathed. "So that's why! It was wrong for them to make fun of you," she told me.

I nodded. A second boy with a similar cart, shouting the same thing, curved into the parking lot off the street. He slowly pedaled over to the first boy. They met and parked close to one another, barely exchanging words, seemingly waiting for something else to happen. I watched them absently as Karen spoke.

"I don't like green beans," Karen told me.

"You probably won't get made fun of in school for that," I remarked. She chuckled.

"No, probably not," she grinned. She sat at the edge of the bank, feet still in the brook, and I did likewise.

"So I guess you're not looking forward to the all the free samples at the Fair this year," Karen inquired.

"What, the Mucky Mudflats Ice Cream?" I said.

"Mother Mudpie's," Karen corrected.

"Whatever. No, not much. Why couldn't it be free chocolate bars? I like chocolate bars." I sighed. I looked back at the ice cream boys in the parking lot. Now there were three. "You suppose they get to eat whatever they don't sell?"

"Naw," said Karen. "My brother Bobby did that job last summer, and he got fired for just eating one!"

"No way," I said.

"Yeah! They're real cheap, the ice cream companies."

"Remember the free ice cream a couple weeks ago?" I reminded her.

She shrugged. "Big deal. It was going to melt anyway."

"Yeah. But it's going to be free at the Fair, remember, and that's not by accident this time." I couldn't believe I was talking about ice cream, of all things. But it was just so nice to be talking to anyone again that I didn't care what the subject was.

When I looked up again, suddenly there were six ice cream guys, all with their ice cream carts huddled in a tight circle. They were all leaned forward, talking a blue streak now. I sat up straighter. I would have given anything at that moment to have been able to hear them.

Karen noticed my sudden interest in the parking lot. "What are you looking at?"

I pointed. "What do you make of that?" I crept across the brook and knelt on the opposite bank, my nose poking out of the brush as I got as close as I could without being seen. Karen came up beside me.

"I dunno," she muttered, suddenly as curious as I was. "Looks like some sort of conspiracy."

I chuckled. "An ice cream plot?"

Karen giggled. "Maybe their wagons are full of dynamite and they're going to blow up a bank."

"No, they're full of electronic equipment and they're beaming government secrets to the moon," I joked. Karen laughed, holding her sides. As I watched, one of the boys nodded, and the knot of ice cream vendors on wheels suddenly broke up and headed off in all different directions. I couldn't say why, but I felt really weird about it.

"Aw, where are they going?" Karen smiled. "Come back, we're not through making fun of you yet!"

I laughed, loud enough that they would have heard me if they'd still be around. Karen smiled, pleased with herself, her tail wagging softly.

"You're pretty neat for a girl," I smiled.

"Yeah, well, so are you, for a boy."

At that moment, I felt like asking her if she'd be my friend. But I was a big kid now, and I knew that was way too corny a thing to ask. Besides, she was a girl. It was better to let things go whatever way they were going to go without asking a lot of questions to make things awkward.

So then, of course, Karen went and made things awkward. "You're the first friend I've had in a long time," she said. She stared into my face, as if daring me to tell her we weren't friends.

I stared back at her, and didn't say a word.

"You wanna play tag?" she asked after a moment.

"Wouldn't be fair," I said.

"Why?"

"You're a girl."

"So??"

I straightened, and explained, "Well, everyone knows boys are faster than girls."

"Says who?"

"Science," I told her. She snorted. "True," I maintained.

"Hogwash. I won first place in the grade fours' footrace in April. I beat all the girls and all the boys." Karen crossed her arms and challenged me to contradict her.

I regarded her. Karen was tall and lean, no doubt fast. She was even a little taller than me, although I would never have admitted it out loud. There was every good chance she was faster than me, but there was no way she was going to get me to say so.

"You're just chicken, I think, that I'll tag you and never get tagged back." She waited for me to prove her right or wrong.

"Okay," I said. "Let's find an open space, and we'll see."

A few minutes of plodding across the woods brought us to a small clearing. Never one to miss his chance, I smacked Karen on the arm. "Tag!" I shouted. "You're it!" I dashed out into the grass.

"That's not fair, I wasn't ready!" she howled in protest.

"You're just chicken," I sneered, "that I'll never get tagged back!" I laughed, tearing away from her, taunting her with her own words.

The ground was cool and soft under me as I dashed back and forth in the tall grass with Karen right on my heels. Karen was as good as her word; she was fast, fast as the wind! I had to admit to myself, deep down, she was faster than me by half. But I had the advantage even so. I was using my brain. I would let Karen get within arm's reach of me -- almost -- and then, judging from where she was looking, figure out where she meant to tag me. If she was looking at my side, I dodged. My legs, I jumped. My shoulder, I dropped. I laughed, out of control, as she flailed unsuccessfully, trying to tag me, make me it.

"You're fast, huh? Come on, Speedy, tag me!" I taunted her. Karen growled, swiping at me, her face showing her increasing frustration as I eluded her time and time again. The madder she got, the louder I laughed, and the more fun it got. Finally she got angry she dived, right at my knees! I leapt up onto a rock at the edge of the field and watched Karen as she came up empty, hitting the ground. I winced, and roared with amusement. "Yeah, you're fast, alright, you're just--"

Karen spun, her dress streaked with grass stains and dirt, and she sat up painfully. "Stop laughing at me!!" she yelled, and my blood turned to ice. I stopped laughing. "Stop it! All I wanted to do was--"

Karen snarled, throwing herself forward, and her paw landed on my foot. I stared down at her. Her paw rubbed over the top of my foot, and for a moment we were both quiet. Karen said, "I just wanted... just wanted to touch..." She dropped her hand from me and got painfully to her feet. I stepped down off the rock and she turned away, and her face fell into her paws. Her shoulders shook and I heard a sob come from her. My heart suddenly ached for her, the way it had that day in class when I had refused to play along in teasing her. I touched her shoulder, and she whirled around, her face furrowed with tears.

"Why don't they like me?" she wailed. "Why?" Suddenly, without warning, she jumped at me, and her arms closed around me. She cried, face pressed into my shoulder. "What did I ever do to them? Why do they hate me? Why?" I felt my own arms fold around her. It was bewildering. I felt really strange, but at the same time, it felt right to hold her while she was hurting so bad. I just held her and let her hold me for a few minutes while she cried.

"I'm sorry I teased you," I said, at last. "I promise I won't anymore."

Karen sniffled and stood back a bit, looking into my face, smiling weakly. "It's okay." She wiped her nose along her arm.

I was quite for a moment. I swallowed, and I said, "Karen... will you be my friend?"

Karen's face split into a huge smile and she hugged my neck again. "Yes! Yes, Islington, I'll be your friend, if you'll be mine."

"I promise," I said, and joked, "Now let me go before they think we're married."

Karen giggled and sniffled, releasing me. "Who knows," she chuckled. "Maybe one day we will be."

"Yeah, right," I laughed. "You wanna come over to my place and watch TV?"

"Sure!" she smiled, and I grabbed my schoolbag and we started home. I felt so good, Bruno went completely out of my mind. We walked along, gabbing about things, and all the while there were only two thoughts going through my head: how glad I was she wasn't trying to hold my hand or anything gross like that, and that finally, at last, I had a made a friend in Pemrick, even if it was the least popular girl in school.

As we walked along, the sweet jingle of bells overtook us, with a boy yelling, "Mother Mudpie's Homemade Ice Cream, half-price! Limited time only, limited time..."