The Warble Read online

  The Warble

  Victoria Simcox

  Copyright © 2009 by Victoria Simcox. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual people, places or events is coincidental or fictionalized.

  Ebook

  ISBN-10:0989875628

  ISBN-13:978-0-9898756-2-2

  Email: [email protected]

  Website: www.victoriasimcox.blogspot.com

  For my daughter Kristina

  Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget.

  ~G Randolf~

  Table of contents

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  1

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  1

  Kristina awoke when the jangling of her alarm sounded right in her ear. She reached over to her night table and gave her clock a good whack and then stuffed her head under the pillow. “I don’t want to get up,” she mumbled.

  It was the last day of school before the Christmas holiday break, and it was so hard to drag herself out of bed. Twelve-year-old Kristina wished she could have slept at least another hour.

  Even with the pillow over her head, she could hear the familiar sound of the old floorboards creaking in the hall. Then she heard her door open, followed by her mom’s footsteps as she approached Kristina’s bed.

  “Kristina, I know you’re awake. Please get out of bed before you miss the bus again—for the fifth time this month,” her mom said while pulling the pillow off of Kristina’s head.

  “Okay, Mom,” Kristina replied sleepily. “I’m getting up.”

  As soon as her mom left the room, Kristina sat up. Her flaxen hair was tousled about her head as she got out of bed and walked over to the window. There was a small crack at the bottom through which the wind was whistling. She pulled her nightshirt sleeve over her hand and rubbed the condensation off the window. Her pale-blue eyes peered through the circle of clear glass, at the snow that was lightly falling. Wouldn’t it be nice if the busses weren’t running today? she thought. Then she realized it was highly unlikely that school would be canceled—the snow wasn’t even sticking to the ground.

  Kristina could not have cared less about missing the last day of school. She didn’t have many friends there anyway; in fact, a couple of the kids were downright nasty to her. It was a good thing she had great parents who made up for her lack of friends. Everyone said she looked just like her father, who had the same color blond hair and blue eyes as her. He’d always say, “Don’t worry about it, if you don’t have many friends. You’re a unique girl and if you find a few unique friends in life, be grateful for that.”

  Kristina Kingsly was somewhat of a loner, spending a lot of time reading books, drawing, or playing with her pet rat, Raymond. Even though she disliked school, there was one good thing about it: her teacher, Miss Hensley; she was a really nice lady.

  The sound of Raymond drinking from his water bottle brought Kristina back to reality. She looked at the clock on her wall. “Oh, great!” The time was 8:05 a.m., and the bus would arrive at 8:30 a.m.. It took seven minutes to walk to the bus stop—maybe four or five minutes, if she ran.

  She got dressed as fast as she could, pulling on mismatched socks because all the rest were in the wash. She ran a comb quickly through her hair, and picked up Raymond and stuffed him in a leather purse that she had just for him. She ran down the old staircase to the kitchen, gulped down a quick bite to eat, grabbed her loose-leaf binder with all its papers hanging out, and threw on her coat, hat, and scarf. “Bye, Mom!” she yelled over her shoulder.

  “Hey?” Her mom was standing in the entree way, with her arms crossed, staring at her. “You’d better be more on the ball next time.”

  Kristina glanced back at her. “I know, I know—I’ll try harder next time.”

  Outside the wind driven snow was making it hard to see, even a few feet ahead. Shielding her face with her arm, Kristina started to run toward her bus stop. Just as she reached it the wind came at her and knocked her loose-leaf binder out of her grip, scattering her homework all about the snowy sidewalk and street. The bus was heading toward her stop and the driver, Mr. Macgregor, a stout old Scottish man with a missing front tooth, hadn’t caught sight of Kristina running in circles, frantically trying to retrieve her papers. When she finally grabbed the last one, her foot hit an icy spot on the sidewalk, and she slipped and fell. Mr. Macgregor finally caught sight of her, lying half on the sidewalk, half on the street—he brought the bus to a skidding halt. Kristina sat up and Mr. Macgregor let out a sigh of relief.

  “Ow-w-w!” Kristina winced. Even through her heavy winter coat, she could feel that she had scraped her arm on a chunk of ice. She stood up and Mr. Macgregor swung the bus door open. The children on the bus were looking out the windows, pointing and laughing at her.

  “Hurry, young lassie, before ye catch yer death,” Mr. Macgregor said, looking very concerned. “It’s more’n a wee bit nippy out.”

  With wet papers hanging out of her binder, her hat on lopsided, and a discouraged look on her face, Kristina trudged up the steps of the bus. Before she turned to walk down the aisle she squared her shoulders and held her head high. Then she headed to an empty seat, not once glancing at the other children, who snickered and laughed as she passed them. One girl, Hester Crumeful, smirked at her and whispered, “Aw, rat girl has a boo-boo.”

  Kristina couldn’t stand Hester, a slightly chunky, spoiled, rich kid, who always wore a scarf around her neck and had a different colored one for each day of the week.

  Kristina sat down in the back of the bus and opened her purse to look at Raymond. “Are you okay Raymond?” she said quietly. Raymond was huddled in the corner of her purse, breathing rapidly. She ran her finger over his little head to calm him. “At least Miss Hensley will be happy to see us.”

  Miss Hensley let Kristina bring Raymond to class. She said it was educational for the children to observe him. He even had his own special cage with toys in it.

  Kristina liked to be the first one to come to class so she could visit with Miss Hensley before the final bell rang. When she entered the classroom she put Raymond in his cage. After feeding her pet, she organized her damp assignment as best as she could and placed it on Miss Hensley’s desk. The final bell rang, and the other kids came running into the classroom. Graham Kepler, Hester Crumeful’s thirteen-year-old cousin, made a paper airplane and threw it at Kristina. It hit her on the forehead; she scowled at him but didn’t tell Miss Hensley―snitching was only what nerds did. Graham tossed his carrot-colored hair and grinned, like a Cheshire cat, at Kristina. He had so many freckles on his face; they resembled the stars in the sky on a clear night.

  Why is he such a jerk to me? Kristina thought. H
e probably thinks that Miss Hensley likes me better than him. She smirked at Graham. I think she does. Actually, it’s pretty easy to like anyone better than Graham.

  Finally, the clock on the wall said 2:15 p.m—only fifteen more minutes until the final bell. School would be out, and the Christmas break would begin.

  Miss Hensley had finished grading everyone’s papers and was passing them back to the class. Kristina could hardly believe her eyes—she got an A on her paper. This was the best mark she had ever gotten. When all the graded papers had been passed back, Miss Hensley went back to Kristina’s desk. “I was really impressed with your work. Great job!” she said.

  “Thanks, Miss Hensley!” Kristina said, beaming up at her teacher.

  “Could you please stay a few minutes after class? There’s something I’d like to give you.”

  Kristina shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, sure.”

  After the final bell rang and all the students had been dismissed, Miss Hensley went to the storage closet at the back of the classroom. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. She pulled a string connected to a light bulb. The storage room lit up, and a large spider skittered up the light bulb. Kristina watched from her desk as her teacher pushed a step stool toward the dusty shelves along the wall. Miss Hensley reached up to the top shelf. “Ah, there you are.” She pulled out a dusty, burgundy hatbox and brushed the dust from the top of it. “The time has come for you to be passed on,” she said quietly.

  Kristina left her desk and went to stand by the storage room door. She watched patiently as her teacher blew more dust off the old hatbox and then walked out of the storage room and over to her desk. “Come here, Kristina,” she said. “I have a present for you.”

  “Really?” Kristina replied excitedly. “What is it, Miss Hensley?”

  “I wish that I had time to tell you about it, but I don’t want you to miss your bus.” She handed Kristina the hatbox.

  A smile spread across Kristina’s face. “Thank you, Miss Hensley.”

  “You’re very welcome.” Miss Hensley returned the smile. “Now hurry along.”

  Kristina glanced up at the clock. “Yes, I’d better hurry.” She turned and began to walk to the classroom door.

  “Kristina?” Miss Hensley called out to her.

  “Yes?”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “Oh, yeah, of course! I almost left without him!” She quickly went to put Raymond in his purse.

  As Kristina headed out of the classroom, Miss Hensley said, just barely loud enough for Kristina to hear, “Hope you have a wonderful Christmas holiday.”

  2

  Once again, Kristina barely got to her bus in time, and when she did finally get on, she headed straight for the back seats. On her way there, Graham Kepler stuck his foot out into the aisle and tripped her, causing the hatbox to slip out of her arms and roll down the aisle toward the front of the bus. Hester Crumeful snatched it up, just before it rolled down the bus steps. She stared at Kristina with a devious, smirk on her face.

  “Give that back to me right now, Hester Crumeful!” Kristina said in a raised voice.

  Hester didn’t answer. Instead, she threw the hatbox to Graham, who caught it like a football. The rest of the children watched with great enthusiasm to see what the next play would be. When Mr. Macgregor looked through his rear-view mirror and saw what was going on, he quickly brought the bus to a halt at the side of the road. He got out of his seat and went down the aisle toward Graham. Graham sunk down in his seat, holding the hatbox in his lap, looking very cowardly.

  Mr. Macgregor pointed his stubby finger at Graham’s face. Squinting one eye, he said in a heavy Scottish brogue, “Now ye listen t’me, young laddie. Anymore trouble outta ye, an’ it’ll be the last time ye ride the bus for the rest of the year!”

  Though reluctant, Graham handed the hatbox back to Kristina. Then Kristina quickly sat down in the last row of seats. Mr. Macgregor went back to his seat, and when Graham was sure he wasn’t looking, he turned to Kristina and whispered, “Just wait; I’ll get you back. You’ll see.”

  Kristina ignored him and looked out the window.

  “Teacher’s pet. Sissy baby! It’s probably just something for self-improvement in there anyway, like a book on how not to look like a nerd,” Hester scoffed as she chomped loudly on her chewing gum. She blew a huge bubble that popped and stuck to her entire face.

  Kristina looked over at Hester and couldn’t help but laugh.

  Graham and Hester knew that Kristina had been given a gift from Miss Hensley, because they had been eavesdropping at the classroom door the whole time Miss Hensley had been talking with Kristina. The two of them got off at the stop just before Kristina’s, and as the bus drove away from the stop, Kristina watched from the window as Graham made a large snowball and threw it at Hester, hitting her in the back of the head. Soon after, Mr. Macgregor pulled the bus to a stop and opened the doors. “Now you an’ your critter have a merry Christmas, an’ try to stay out ay mischief,” he said as Kristina exited the bus.

  Kristina smiled up at him. “Thanks Mr. Macgregor. And you have a merry Christmas as well.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Kristina’s mom came into the entryway just as Kristina came through the front door. “Put your things away upstairs and hurry back down,” she instructed Kristina. “Your dinner is on the table. I have to leave here in fifteen minutes to meet your father for his office Christmas party.”

  Kristina placed Raymond in his cage and then shoved the hatbox under her bed. She wanted to take her time with opening it and enjoy the moment so she planned to do it after she ate. Then it dawned on her that if her mom was going to her father’s office Christmas party, she’d be getting someone to stay with Kristina. Usually Kristina would stay home by herself when her parents went out, but because there was a break-in, three houses down, only the night before, her mom didn’t want Kristina staying home alone. Oh, I hope it’s not Davina Pavey coming tonight, Kristina thought.

  Davina was two years older than Kristina—fourteen and a half, to be exact—and she lived down the street. Whenever she came to stay with Kristina, she’d spend her time either eating the cupboards empty or following Kristina around the house, hoping to see her do something for which she could snitch on her to Mrs. Kingsly. Kristina could just imagine it: Davina, with her long, greasy, black braids, Coke-bottle glasses, and beady little eyes, standing in her bedroom doorway. She’d be eating potato chips that would get stuck in her braces, and she’d watch every move that Kristina made.

  Kristina entered the kitchen, where her mom was busy doing dishes, and sat down at the table to eat. At least dinner was a plus—macaroni and cheese out of the box; her favorite.

  “Oh, I forgot to mention to you,” her mom said as Kristina squeezed large amounts of catsup onto her macaroni, “Davina Pavey, is coming to hang out with you tonight.”

  “Y-a-a-y,” Kristina said unexcitedly.

  “I have to hurry and get ready.” Her mom headed out the kitchen, just as the doorbell rang. “Would you get that, Kristina?”

  Kristina walked to the front door and peeked through the peephole. “Just as I expected—Davina.” She opened the door. “Hi, Davina,” she said flatly.

  Davina wiped her nose with the back of her hand and walked into the house. “Where’s your mom?”

  “Upstairs, getting ready.” Kristina stood there uncomfortably for a few minutes until her mom appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “Hello, Davina,” her mom said brightly.

  “Hello, Mrs. Kingsly. Wow! You look so pretty.”

  Kristina batted her eyes in disgust. Davina would always try to butter up her mom.

  “Thank you, Davina.” Her mom slipped on her long coat. Then while staring into the entryway mirror, applying her lipstick, she looked at Davina out of the corner of her eye and said, “Help yourself in the kitchen.”

  As Kristina started up the stairs, her mom looked up at her. “Grandma’s c
oming tomorrow and I would like to have the house looking at least half decent, so don’t go to bed later than eleven.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Kristina replied softly.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes mom. I did,” Kristina retorted, staring wide-eyed at her mom.

  “Couldn’t tell. You looked like you were spacin’ out.” Her mom looked at Davina again and then back at Kristina. “Anyhow, you two have fun.”

  Davina returned a fake smile.

  As soon as Kristina’s mom left, Davina headed for the kitchen to see what type of food she could devour. This meant that Kristina finally had a chance to open her present without being bothered—or so she thought. She got the hatbox out from under the bed, but just as she was about to open it up, she heard Davina’s heavy steps coming up the stairs. How predictable, Kristina thought.

  Davina opened the door and sauntered into Kristina’s bedroom, eating a large corned beef sandwich drenched in mayonnaise.

  “Have you ever heard of knocking?” Kristina said irritated.

  Davina ignored her remark. She was much too interested in the hatbox that Kristina had pushed behind her back. Smacking away on her sandwich, she sauntered over to Kristina, and asked, “What’s that you’re hiding?”

  “It’s none of your business,” Kristina said coldly.

  Davina placed her sandwich, still oozing mayonnaise, on the dresser. Then she reached behind Kristina and grabbed the hatbox.

  “Give it back!” Kristina snapped.

  “Does your mom know your hiding this?” A chunk of bread flew out of Davina’s mouth. “Your mom will thank me for catching you sneaking around like this!”

  As Davina started prying at the clasp, Kristina felt anger bubbling up inside her, and she clenched her fists, wanting to punch Davina.

  “What’s wrong with this thing? Why won’t it open?” Davina eyes grew very squinty and her face turned plum red. When she couldn’t open it, she tossed it back to Kristina. “Well, if I can’t open it, than neither can you. Have fun.” With that, she picked up her sandwich, licked the dripping mayonnaise off its edge, and sauntered out of the room.