This Quiet Sky: A Novella by Joanne Bischof

Author:Joanne Bischof [Bischof, Joanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mason Jar Books
Published: 2014-11-14T07:00:00+00:00

E I G H T

_______

Having begun an accidental staring contest with the far wall, I almost fall out of my chair Wednesday morning when Ma says Tucker’s name over breakfast, bringing me back to earth.

I’m pretty sure I blush three shades of red. “What?”

Without answering, she gives me a knowing look and goes back to clearing dishes. But she’s smiling. Last night, as I sat on her bed and she ran the bristle brush through my hair, I told her what happened at Tucker’s. That he’d kissed me…

And while I didn’t say much about it, I didn’t have to because Ma’s eyes were shining as she plaited my hair. Betsy, who was lounging beside me, giggled, and I knew it was best to change the subject. I asked Betsy if she liked the new hymn we learned at church. When we couldn’t quite recall all the words, Ma sang it for us.

Realizing that I’m staring at the wall again, I dash upstairs to find my shoes while Betsy fusses in the doorway about being late to school. She soon mellows as we start off with enough time to get there. I straighten my skirt and the wind plays in the maples while Betsy chats easily.

At school, the little building is abuzz with students discussing the fall break, even though it’s still a few months away. As eager as I am to not have to sit in this place without Tucker, I’m also trying desperately not to think of autumn. I don’t know what it will hold.

The classroom finally settles, and while most pupils take a silent spelling test, Mr. Davis comes by my desk to bring me a new list of words. He tells me that he visited with Tucker that morning to go over the details of his exam for Brown the following week. This pleases me to no end. Knowing I won’t make it through the day otherwise, I pour all my focus onto my studies. It helps with the empty feeling of the seat. The way he’s not beside me. I miss everything about him.

Two o’clock can’t come fast enough, and when it does, I barrel down the lane, running to his house. I force myself to slow after a minute so I don’t break the cookies I baked for him. Through the meadow, then over the little footbridge I walk…and finally spot his house in the distance. Mary waves at me from the garden. Beside her, Tucker’s aunt and Violet pile plucked weeds into a wooden pushcart.

Tucker is there, sitting on the porch where he was yesterday, turning one of the knobs on his new microscope. It’s on the step between his boots, propped up on a stack of books. He seems to be trying to figure it out. He peeks into the eyepiece for a long while, his head popping up only when I draw near.

He grins a bit and it’s crooked. “You sure got here fast.”

A little embarrassed, I nibble my lip a moment. “How are you feeling?”

“Just fine.

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