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"I lost my new notebook and pens and pencils, and my sandwich is soaked," I moaned.
"I have what you need and you can share my lunch," Miss Walker promised. "When you're ready, come back and join your classmates."
I swallowed my remaining tears and did as she instructed. When I returned, all eyes were on me again, but this time, no one laughed, no one even smiled. Well, maybe Niles Thompson smiled. He looked like he did, although it was going to be some time before I knew when Niles was happy and when he was not.
As it turned out, my first day at school was okay. Miss Walker made me feel very special, especially when she gave me one of her own sandwiches. Emily looked sullen and unhappy most of the day and avoided me until it was time to make the walk home. Then, under Miss Walker's eyes, she seized my hand and led me off. When we were far enough away from the schoolhouse, she let me go.
The Thompson twins and Niles walked with us two thirds of the way. The twins and Emily stayed in front and Niles and I lagged behind. He didn't say much to me. I would remind him years later that when he did speak, it was to tell me how he had climbed to the top of the cedar tree in front of his house the day before. I was reasonably impressed because I remembered how tall that tree was. When we parted at the Thompson driveway, he muttered a quick goodbye and sprinted away. Emily glared back at me and walked as quickly as ever. Halfway up our driveway, she stopped and spun around.
"Why didn't you just go back home instead of making us the laughingstocks of the school?" she demanded.
"We weren't the laughingstocks."
"Yes, we were—thanks to you my friends are laughing at me, too." She fixed her eyes on me, narrowing them angrily. "And you're not even my real sister," she added.
At first, the words seemed so strange, it was as if she had said that pigs could fly. I think I even started to laugh, but what she said next stopped me fast. She stepped toward me and in a loud whisper repeated her statement.
"I am too," I declared.
"No, you're not. Your real mother was Mamma's sister and she died giving birth to you. If you weren't born, she'd still be alive and we wouldn't have had to take you in. You carry a curse on you," she taunted. "Just like Cain in the Bible. No one's going to ever want to love you. They'll be afraid. You'll see," she threatened, and then pivoted on her heels and marched away.
I walked slowly after her, trying to make sense out of what she had said.
Mamma was waiting in the sitting room for me when I entered the house. She got up and came out to greet me. The moment she saw the mud-stained dress and shoes, she uttered a cry, her hands fluttering up to her throat like frightened little birds.
"What happened?" she asked tearfully.
"I fell into a puddle this morning on the way to school, Mamma."
"Oh, you poor dear." She held out her arms and I ran to her, ran to her embrace and her comforting kisses. She took me upstairs and I pulled off my new dress and shoes. "There's mud all over your neck and hair. You'll have to take a bath. Emily didn't say a word about this. She just marched into the house as usual and went right to her room. I'm going to have a word or two with her right away. In the meanwhile, you take that bath," Mamma said.
"Mamma," I called as she started toward my door. She turned around.
"What?"
"Emily said I wasn't her sister; she said your sister was my real mother and she died giving birth to me," I told her, and waited, holding my breath, anticipating Mamma's denial and laughter at such a fantastic story. But instead, she looked troubled and confused.
"Oh dear," Mamma said. "She promised."
"Promised what, Mamma?"
"Promised not to tell until you were much, much older. Oh dear," Mamma said. She screwed her face into as angry an expression as she was capable of having. "The Captain is going to be furious with her, too," she added. "I declare that child has a streak in her and where it came from I'll never know."
"But Mamma, she said I wasn't her sister."
"I'll tell you all about it, honey," Mamma promised. "Don't cry."
"But Mamma, does that mean Eugenia's not my sister, either?"
Mamma bit down on her lower lip and looked as if she was going to cry herself.
"I'll be right back," she said, and hurried away. I flopped back on my bed and stared after her.
What did all this mean? How could Mamma and Papa not be my mamma and papa and Eugenia not be my sister?
This day was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life, the day I started school, but at that moment, it appeared to be the most dreadful day I had ever lived.
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