"Can't everything be bought?"
"Sadly, it can't. I used to think it could, but now I know money can't buy the most important things. Things I used to take for granted and treated lightly-- oh, if I had my life to live over, how different I would be! I've made so many mistakes, Bart. I want to do everything right for you, with you . . and if you have to keep me as your secret, perhaps one day . . . well, let's save that for later. You will come again?"
She sounded so pitiful and made me feel so uneasy. I shuffled my feet about and decided I'd better get away quick before she tried to kiss me. "Ma'am, gotta get 44 back to camp. My men will be wonderin if I'm wounded or dead. But remember this--I got you surrounded and you cannot win this war!"
"I know," she said, her voice so sad sounding. "I've never won any game I've tried to play. I've always gone down in defeat even when I thought I held the winning cards."
Just like me! Made me feel sorry for her. "Lady, you play your cards right and I'll come over every day and pay you a visit--or even two or three."
"Thank you, Bart. You just tell me what cards to play and I'll have them on the table waiting for you."
Had me an idea then. Lots and lots of things I wanted and never got. Didn't want books, games, toys or other ordinary stuff. One thing I had to have, and hopefully I stared at her . . . maybe she'd be the one to give it to me. "What's your name?"
"Come again and I'll tell you."
I'd be comin again. Darn if I could stay away now.
Went home and nobody even noticed I was there. Momma went right on talkin about that baby girl she had to have if her favorite student Nicole died. God, don't let Nicole die, I silently prayed.
"Jory, let's play ball."
"Can't. Mom's driving me to afternoon class. Melodie's parents are taking me to dinner tonight, then to a movie."
Nobody ever took me anywhere--except my parents. No friends. No pet of my own. Dratted Clover liked Jory better, squealin like he was hurt when I stepped on his tail by accident, or stumbled over him, and he was always underfoot.
A few days later I again headed for the back door. "Where are you going?" asked Momma, who had been starin at a picture of that little girl she wanted for her own. Weren't enough she had two boys--had to have a daughter too. Sissy-silly girl.
"Bart, answer me. Where are you going?" "Nowhere."
"Every time I ask you what you do, and where you go, you say you haven't been anywhere and haven't done anything. Now I want to hear the truth."
Jory laughed and hugged her. "Gee, Mom, you oughta know him by this time. When Bart steps out the back door he's everywhere. You never saw a kid so crazy about pretending. He's this, he's that, and the only thing he never is . . is himself."
The power I poured into my mean, piercing eyes should have shut Jory up--but he went right on. "He prefers fantasy to reality, Mom, that's a
ll."
Weren't so. Was bored, that's all. Didn't get enough of what I wanted in real life, and in my pretend games I did everything right--and got everything I wanted. Then he and Momma were laughing, and I was shut out again. Mad. They were makin me mad.
Drat everybody who made fun of me! But hatin everybody made me feel bad, and pretendin made me happy. What did I have to lose if I went over to her place? Nothin, nothin at all.
Riskin my life in the darkest of dangerous jungles, I fought my way over to her place. Bravely I struggled onward, facin death over and over just to get to her . . . climbin that slippery tree that wanted me to fall. Scalin that high wall to get to her. Through the wind and snow, through the sleet and rain, freezin my feet, blindin my eyes, I struggled onward to her.
I stumbled to her house for the fifth time in three days. And there she was, smilin beneath her veil, lovin me as no one else did. I felt happy and warm all over as she called and opened her arms wide. I went flyin into them, huggin her, eager to sit on her lap and be petted and pampered. She needed me. She wanted to love me like her own. Her lap didn't burn me as I was afraid it would. It didn't feel so awful to be kissed on my cheeks--but it did feel dry. Drat that veil!
Because she loved me, and I loved her now, she'd given me a room of my own to hold all the things she gave me. Two miniature electric trains with all the accessories, toy cars, trucks and games All this stuff for me to play with--in her house, not mine
Time went by. I was gettin to love her more and more each day. Then one Tuesday I found that creepy ole butler John Amos in her favorite room, messin around with her things, mutterin to himself about a fool and her money bein soon parted. Didn't like him touchin her things. Didn't like him talkin mean about her behind her back.
"You get out of here!" I said in my big man voice. "You tell my lady I'm here, and tell your chef I want chocolate ice cream today with Oreo cookies, not brownies."
He was an awful sight. "You can trust a few some of the time, and most none of the time. Feel lucky if you have even one to trust all of the time."
What was that supposed to mean? I scowled and tried to draw away. Didn't like his false teeth that kept slippin so he had to push them back, and they clacked too, as if they didn't fit his mouth.
"You like her, don't you?" he asked, slyly smilin, noddin his head up and down, from side to side, so I could be confused if I wanted. "When you want the full truth about who you are--and who she is--come to me." The lady's steps on the stairs sent him scurryin off.
Creepy. He made me feel creepy and scared. I knew who I was--most of the time.