Heaven (Casteel 1)

"Heaven, what ya doin with that new boy? Ya know ya don't like boys! Ain't ya done said a million times yer neva gonna be nothin but a dried-up ole schoolteacher?"

I tried to ignore Fanny, though my face turned beet-red. What kind of sisterly loyalty was she showing anyway? I knew better than to expect tact. I tried to smile at Logan. It was always best to ignore Fanny, if possible.

Logan stared at her with disapproval, as did Tom.

"Fanny, please don't say one more word," I said uncomfortably. "Just run along home, and start the wash for a change."

"I neva have t'walk home with only a brotha," Fanny said to Logan in a sneering way before she turned on her most brilliant smile. "Boys don't like Heaven, they always like me. Ya'll like me, too. Ya wanna hold my hand?"

Logan glanced at me, at Tom, and then said seriously to Fanny, "Thank you, but right now I'm intent on seeing Heaven home, and hearing all that she has to tell me."

"Ya should hear me sing!"

"Another time, Fanny, I'll listen to you sing."

"Our Jane sings . ." said Keith faintly.

"She sure does!" exclaimed Tom, seizing Fanny by the arm and pulling her along with him. "Come along, Keith. Our Jane is home waiting for you." That's all

Keith needed to hear to hurry after Tom, for Our Jane had missed school today due to another tummyache and a fever.

Fanny broke away from Tom and came running back to scowl and yell before she stuck out her tongue. "Yer selfish, Heaven Leigh Casteel! Mean, skinny, an ugly too! Hate yer hair! Hate yer silly name! Hate yer everythin! I do! Ya just wait till I tell Pa what yer doin! Pa won't like ya fer takin charity from some strange city boy who pities ya--eatin his hamburgers an stuff, an teachin Our Jane an Keith t'beg!"

Oh, now Fanny was at her worst, jealous, spiteful, and apt to do just what she threatened, and Pa would punish me!

"Fanny," called Tom, running to catch her. "You can have my new watercolor set if you keep yer trap shut about Logan taking all of us to lunch . . ."

Instantly Fanny smiled. "All right! I want that color-in book Miss Deale gave ya, too! Don't know why she don't give me nothin!"

"You don't know why?" sneered Tom, giving her what she asked for even though I knew he wanted that paint set and that coloring book so much it hurt. He'd never had a box of brand-new watercolors before, or a coloring book-about Robin Hood. Robin Hood, this year, was his favorite hero from a book. "When you l

earn to behave yerself in t'cloakroom, maybe Miss Deale will be generous with you, for a change."

Again I could have died from embarrassment!

Crying, Fanny fell down on the mountain trail that was gradually spiraling upward through tall trees that appeared to touch the sky. She pounded her small tough fists on the grass, screamed because a stone was hidden there and it drew blood. Sucking on that, she sat up and stared at Tom with huge pleading eyes. "Don't tell Pa, please, please."

Tom promised.

I promised. Though I still wanted to vanish and not see Logan's wide eyes drinking all this in, as if never in his life had he witnessed such a stupid, illmannered scene. I tried to avoid meeting his eyes until he smiled and I saw understanding. "You sure got one family that might age you dramatically inside-- outside, you look younger than springtime."

"Yer stealin words from a song!" yelled Fanny. "Ya ain't supposed t'court a gal with song words!"

"Oh, dry up!" ordered Tom, seizing her arm again and running so she had to race with him or have her arm pulled off. This gave me my chance to be alone with Logan.

Keith was again bringing up the rear of our little parade, though he'd stopped to stare up at a robin, mesmerized and not likely to move for at least ten minutes--if the bird didn't fly away.

"Your sister is really something else," said Logan when finally we were as good as alone on the trail. Keith was far behind us and so quiet. I kept my thoughts to myself. Valley boys thought all hill girls were easy for any boy hoping to experiment with sex. As young as she was, Fanny had caught the hill spirit and its easy sexuality that came much earlier than it did in low places. Perhaps it was due to all the copulating we saw going on in our yards and in our one- or two-room shacks. There was no need for sex education in our hills; sex hit you in the face the moment you knew a man from a woman.

Logan cleared his throat to remind me he was there. "I'm ready to hear all your years of accumulated wisdom. I'd take notes, but I find it difficult to write while walking. But next time, I could bring along a tape recorder."

"You're making fun of me," I complained before I justified myself. "We happen to live with our grandparents. Grandpa never says anything that's not absolutely necessary, and seldom does he find words necessary.

My granny rambles on and on incessantly, talking about how good all the old times were, and how rotten things are now. My stepmother fusses and fumes because she's got more than she can do . . . and sometimes when I go home to that cabin, and face up to all the problems, I feel not two hundred and fifty but one thousand years old--only without any wisdom from living that long."

"Hey," he said with a smile, "a girl who knows how to talk honestly. I like that. I understand. I'm an only child, and I've grown up with uncles, aunts, and grandparents, too, so I do understand. But you've got the edge on me with two brothers and two sisters."

"Is it an edge of advantage or disadvantage?"