The inner door opened and our principal, Ms. Ashworth, stood there frowning, her arms crossed over her chest. She was tall and sticklike, and no one I knew had ever seen her smile—not even my pa, who had gone to school with her.
I stood up and she motioned me into her office. My heart was beating fast, like a mechanical tree-shaker trying to loosen every last pecan. I couldn’t even swallow.
“Sit down, Cassie,” said Ms. Ashworth.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, and took one of the seats that faced her big desk. I gave a quick glance around but it pretty much looked like what a school office should look like. In the corner hung the United flag on an eight-foot pole topped by a brass eagle. Our unit’s flag with our mascot, a honeybee, on it. (A bee for Unit B, get it?) Our cell’s flag, Cell B-97-4275. A framed photo of Ms. Ashworth with Provost Allen, shaking hands and smiling at the camera. A framed photo of President Unser, the one that was distributed when he’d celebrated thirty years in office.
“Where is Rebecca?” Ms. Ashworth got right to it.
I wished I could say “I don’t know” and let Becca take whatever happened. But the stakes were too high, the outcome too awful. Even as mad as I was, I would never do that to my sister.
“She’s home sick,” I said.
Ms. Ashworth frowned. “Cassie, we don’t get sick. Our cell enjoys perfect health, as you know.”
Since I drove past the big Healthier United sign every day on my way to school, I did know that.
“No, not like sick with a virus or anything,” I clarified, thinking fast. “I mean, sick from… overeating.”
“Overeating what?” Ms. Ashworth knew that anyone having enough food to eat too much of it was as rare as someone coming down with a cold.
“Pears.” It was like God had taken pity on me and dropped an idea into my brain. “We have a pear tree, and of course we pack up most of them for the Co-op. But when the pears get bruised, or have worms or something, we keep them and make pies or whatever. Can them for winter. The ones that aren’t good enough for the Co-op.” I spoke quickly now. “I told her not to, but Rebecca insisted on tasting all the ones I was cutting up. Some of them weren’t even ripe. By lights-out she felt pretty bad, and this morning she was curled up moaning and wanting to throw up.”
This was the best Becca excuse I’d ever come up with, and I congratulated myself silently. It was a shame that I’d only get to use it once.
Ms. Ashworth’s pale-green eyes looked at me across her desk. “I don’t believe you,” she said.
4
MY HEART FELT LIKE IT was trying to climb out of my throat.
“I… beg your pardon, ma’am?” I stammered.
The crease between her straight pale eyebrows deepened. “It’s just you and Becca at the farm now, right?”
Heat made my cheeks flush. Everyone in the cell knew about Ma, knew about Pa.
“Yes, ma’am,” I mumbled.
“Your only sister is sick,” said Ms. Ashworth. “I don’t believe that you would just come to school and leave her.”
All I could
do was stare at her, my brain’s activity crashing into a single, static line.
“I have a perfect attendance record,” I managed to say, hoarsely.
“Oh. And you’re trying to get a President’s Star?” the principal asked.
I nodded. Any kid who never misses a day’s school from kindergarten through graduation receives a gold star from President Unser himself. I was so close.
Her face softened the tiniest bit, as if she were a marble statue that had weathered for a hundred years. “I understand. I tell you what. You’ve already been marked present for today. I’m giving you special permission to leave school, go home, and keep an eye on Rebecca. But I expect you both back here tomorrow at eight a.m. on the dot!” Her face had toughened up again, but I nodded eagerly.
“Yes, ma’am! Thank you, ma’am! I’ll stop at United Drugs, get some bicarb, and get right home.”
“See that you do,” she warned. “If I hear tell of you going anywhere else, doing anything else, you’ll pay for it. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am, I understand.”