Last Summer with Maizon by Jacqueline Woodson

Author:Jacqueline Woodson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US

8

“Sure wish you weren’t going away,” Margaret said, choking back tears for what seemed like the millionth time. They were sitting on the M train, crossing the Williamsburg Bridge, and Margaret shivered as the train passed over the water. The L train would have made the trip easier but the L didn’t go over the bridge and Maizon had wanted to ride over it once more before she left.

Maizon sat nervously drumming her fingers against the windowpane. “Me too,” she said absently.

Margaret looked over at Mama and Grandma. Grandma stared out of her window. She looked old and out of place on the train.

“Maizon?” Margaret said, turning back toward her.

“Hmm?” Maizon frowned. She seemed to be concentrating on something in the water. It rippled and danced below them.

“Even though I wrote you those two letters, you only have to write me one back if you don’t have a lot of time or something.” Margaret looked down at her fingers. She had begun biting the cuticles, and now the skin surrounding her nails was red and ragged.

“I’ll write you back,” Maizon promised.

“Maizon ...”

“What, Margaret!”

Margaret jumped and looked at Maizon. There was an uneasiness in her eyes she had never seen before.

“Forget it,” she said.

Ms. Tory leaned over. “We’ll be getting off in a few stops.”

They rode the rest of the way in silence. At Delancey Street they changed for another train and a half hour later they were at Penn Station.

“I guess now we’ll have to call each other to plan the same outfits,” Maizon said as they waited for her train. Her voice sounded forced and fake, Margaret thought, like a grown-up trying to make a kid smile.

“I guess,” Margaret said. The conductor called Maizon’s train.

“I guess I gotta go,” Maizon said softly, and Margaret felt a lump rise in her throat.

“I’ll write you back, Margaret. Promise. Thanks for letting me keep the double-dutch trophy even if it is only second place.” They hugged for a long time. Maizon sniffed loudly. “I’m scared, Margaret,” she whispered.

Margaret didn’t know what to say. “Don’t be.”

“Bye, Ms. Tory.”

Margaret’s mother bent down and hugged Maizon. “Be good,” she said as Maizon and her grandmother made their way toward the train.

“Mama,” Margaret said as they watched Maizon and her grandmother disappear into the tunnel.

“What, dear?”

“What’s the difference between a best friend and an old friend?”

“I guess ...” Her mother thought for a moment. “I guess an old friend is a friend you once had and a best friend is a friend you’ll always have.”

“Then maybe me and Maizon aren’t best friends anymore.”

“Don’t be silly, Margaret. What else would you two be? Some people can barely tell you apart. I feel like I’ve lost a daughter.”

“Maybe ... I don’t know ... Maybe we’re old friends now. Maybe this was our last summer as best friends. I feel like something’s going to change now and I’m not going to be able to change it back.”

Ms. Tory’s heels made a clicking sound through the terminal. She stopped to buy tokens and turned to Margaret.

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