"Boring," she sang. "I'm going," she threatened. Bernie held his hand on his microscope and looked at me.
"I'm staying," I said. I knew I should probably go with her to meet more of the neighborhood kids, but Bernie's projects really intrigued me.
"I knew it," Helga said. "Peas in a pod. I'll talk to you later' she threw back at me as she left Bernie's room.
He smiled. Then he brought his microscope to the desk and hurriedly set things up. "Sit right there," he said, pointing to his chair.
He slipped in the slides and began to talk about them as I gazed through the microscope. It really was like being at a class lecture, but I didn't mind. Some of it I knew, but most of it I didn't. He was so excited about having an audience, he went on and on and then brought out some other slides. I got so involved I didn't realize the time until I glanced at the clock by his bed.
"Oh, no," I said. "I'd better get home. I didn't tell my mother I was leaving. I didn't think I'd be away this long, and it's ten minutes past dinner?'
"Right," he said with disappointment. He looked at the clock. "I don't eat dinner at any set time. I eat when I'm hungry."
"What about your parents?"
"They usually go out or eat at different times," he said.
"You never eat together?"
"Sometimes," he said as he put away his slides.
"Thanks for showing me everything," I told him as I walked to the door.
"Sure," he said.
He followed me out and down the hall.
"Maybe I'll see you again," I said, turning back to him just before leaving.
"Okay," he said. "Any time you want."
"Thank you," I said, and started away.
"Oh," he began.
I paused. "Yes?"
"I forgot. What's your name again?"
"It's Crystal," I said.
"I'm Bernie," he said.
I wanted to say, "I know, I remember your name. How could I not remember your name?" But he closed the door before I could add a word.
I hurried down the sidewalk. When I reached the house, I saw that my book was missing from the arm of the chair. It put a small panic in me because I realized Thelma had come looking for me. I quickened my steps and practically ran into the house.
"There," Karl said, hearing the door close and stepping out of the living room. "She's back, and she's all right."
I looked in and saw Thelma, her eyes
bloodshot, her face pale. She was clutching her skirt and twisting the material anxiously.
"Oh, Crystal. I was sure something terrible had happened to you. When I walked out there to call you in for dinner and all I found was your book . . ."
"I'm sorry," I said both to Karl and to her. "A girl came by to introduce herself, and then we went for a walk and it took longer than I thought it would. We stopped to visit Bernie Felder and . . ."
"When I saw that book and the empty chair," Thelma continued, not listening to my explanation, "all I could think of was Heart Shell by Amanda Glass. That's the story about the little girl who was kidnapped and brought up by another family. There's a scene just like this. They find her children's book on the grass by her little chair. It's not until she's a young woman that she returns to her real parents."