C 2004 By Gracie Prior
CHAPTER XVII. THE STORY PROGRESSES
Mary sat on her bed and thought about what Mom had said yesterday. Not only was she shocked and disgusted with the facts of how babies were made, she just found out that her very own mom was going to have a baby in the spring. That was nice. Mary longed for a little brother or sister, but her parents - doing that, well not possible. But Mom doesn't lie. She wondered if she could face her friends now that she knew. She was just wondering this, when the phone rang downstairs.
"Mary, it's for you."
She rushed downstairs and answered. "Hello, this is Mary. Oh, Jimmy, I'm fine. I'm sure I can come over now. I'll see you soon."
On the way over to Jimmy's house, Mary tried to put her recent information out of her head. The Scribblers were going to go on with more chapters of their desert story, "A Chosen Generation." She was happy and relieved about that.
Jimmy greeted her and together they walked to Havenword. It would truly be a quiet place today, away from parents and her recent mistakes.
Butch greeted them heartily and the boys sat down. Mary went over and arranged the curtains she had painstakingly made for the clubhouse. She went around picking things up and putting them on shelves. She loved this place and wanted it to be a comfort, for all of them.
Terry hurried in and he began, "Jimmy has started the next chapter of our story. He has Conni and Aaron meeting Conni's father and then getting lost in tunnels below the ground. It's too exciting. We can read it through and add or take stuff out."
Jimmy passed out copies of the story that Terry had typed on his dad's Royal. They took turns reading through the chapter, page, by page.
"I love this part where Aaron blindly swings his club in the dark, to protect himself. He seems so wimpy and then he hauls off and knocks this guy for a loop," Jimmy said.
"It's important that he doesn't kill him, only put him out." Terry added. "He doesn't know it but the reader does."
"Oh, maybe we should tell him," Mary said. "He'd want to know."
"We'll see," Jimmy said. "See if you can fit it in here. That's why we're doing this, to work on it together and make it right."
The group corrected pages for another hour and then Terry said, "I have to go. We're having a practice tonight for the gym show and I have to be there."
"Yeah, good luck, Terry. We'll all see you tomorrow."
"We wouldn't miss it,"Mary said. "Take care of yourself. Don't get hurt."
"I don't plan to. They spot you pretty good. And the mats are soft. I'm not worried."
"I now call this meeting of the Scribblers to a close," Jimmy said. "See you all in school."
Terry, Butch, and Jimmy went home. Mary stayed and cleaned up the papers, filed them in the proper box, and looked around. Such contentment. Her own place. She pulled the curtains closed and put the lock on the door. As she walked in the gathering darkness, she looked back and caught her breath. There, framed in the light of her kitchen window, her hair sticking out all over, was the sour face of Mrs. Frumstead. Mary remembered her mom's words 'old busybody.' She sang to herself a song about "The Happy Wanderer" and walked on home.
(Next week, we'll see where Terry's gymnastic practices have been leading. Is he in for fame and fortune or disaster?)