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Mrs. Hardlick told her class that she had some bad news. “I just found out,” she said, “that Angeline will soon be leaving us.”
“Ohhh,” said the class, as if they were truly sorry to see her go.
“Is she moving?” someone asked.
“Where are you going, Angeline?” asked Judy Martin.
“She’ll still be at school,” said Mrs. Hardlick. “She’s going into Miss Turbone’s fifth-grade class.”
“That’s not fair,” said Philip Korbin. “She’s smart enough to be in the sixth grade, easily.”
“She sure is,” said Nelson Ford.
“I know,” said Mrs. Hardlick, “and just when she was beginning to show some real progress. Isn’t that always the way? What’s the matter, don’t you like it here, Angeline?”
Angeline stared at her, wide-eyed.
“Do you think the fifth grade is better than the sixth grade?” Mrs. Hardlick asked. “Well, it’s not. The sixth grade is best. The second grade is better than the first grade. And the third grade is better than the second grade. And the fourth grade is better than the third grade. And the fifth grade is better than the fourth grade. And the sixth grade is best!”
Angeline was dumbfounded. What was this nonsense?
“You’re too smart for the fifth grade,” said Mrs. Hardlick. “You belong here with me.”
Angeline stared at her in disbelief. She felt as if the walls were closing in on her.
“If you want,” said Mrs. Hardlick, “I’ll talk to the principal about it. I’ll ask him to let you stay here.”
“No,” Angeline whispered.
“Pardon?”
“No!” she shouted. She didn’t mean to shout so loud. She started to cry. “Excuse me,” she said. She stood up. “Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me.” She ran out of the room.
She ran across the school yard to the bus stop. Her heart was thumping and she was breathing very fast. Her head spun. She paced quickly in front of the bus stop. Fortunately she didn’t have to wait long.
She got on a bus, walked to the back, then walked back to the front and sat down somewhere near the middle. She never pulled the cord. She rode the bus all the way, as far as it went, past the high school, past the shopping mall, past the train station, past the tire store, past the hospital, all the way to the ocean.
Eighteen
Where’s Cool Breezer?
When the bus reached the ocean, Angeline was the only passenger left. It stopped across the street from Mitchell Beach, in front of a liquor store.
She hopped off the bus and gazed across the street. She still couldn’t see the ocean but she could see the sand. And she could smell the ocean. Its smell surrounded her. It was just as she had remembered.
She stepped blindly into the street. A car slammed on its horn, screeched, and swerved around her. She was lucky she wasn’t run over.
She ran across the street and to the top of a sand dune at the entrance to Mitchell Beach. From there, at last, she saw it, green and blue and brown, rolling and crashing against the shore. The water stretched out for as far as she could see, until it met the sky. She felt the ocean breeze blow through her hair. She smiled.
Despite the Indian summer weather, the beach was empty except for a lone fisherman who was fishing off Mitchell Pier. She wondered who Mitchell was, that he had a beach and a pier named after him. She wondered if that’s who the fisherman was.
She yelled as loud as she could and ran full speed down the face of the sand dune, then continued out across the sand until she fell over. She laughed as she sat up, spitting sand out of her mouth. She took off her shoes and socks and left them there at the place where she had fallen.
She walked very slowly to the ocean. She walked slowly, not because she was afraid, but just the opposite: she wanted to savor each step. She stopped just outside the reach of the white water and rolled her pant legs up to her knees. Her skin tingled.
A wave broke toward her and she quickly backed away from it. She returned as the water receded and stepped in up to her ankles. “Yikes!” she exclaimed as she jumped out of the water. Then she walked back in. It didn’t feel as cold the second time.
She continued in up to her knees, just below her rolled-up pants. She bent over and stuck her arms in too. Then she splashed her face with the salt water. As she did that her pant legs unrolled into the water. She laughed and leaned farther over so her hair could get wet, too.
