Arthur, For the Very First Time by Patricia MacLachlan

Author:Patricia MacLachlan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins

Pauline woke Arthur each morning, clucking at his pillow and pulling at his hair, and she watched him outside as he began to build a pen for Bernadette.

Putting up a fence was hard work, much harder than Arthur had ever imagined. Moira came to help him carry the heavy roll of fencing outside, Pauline running in wild excited circles around them. The wire was sharp and made deep, painful grooves in Arthur’s hands. Aunt Elda found bandages and gloves, then left Arthur and Moira to build the run. Uncle Wrisby, true to what he had said, left them alone. No help—none asked for. Their bargain. A hard bargain, Arthur was beginning to think.

“Now,” asked Moira, sitting on the roll of wire, “how big should the pen be?”

“Oh, from about here”—Arthur paced off a length—“to about here.”

Moira smiled. “You have to measure, Mouse. You have to plan.”

“Arthur,” said Arthur, frowning. He had never planned anything in his life. For Arthur, everything happened one way or another, either the way it should or the way it shouldn’t with no help on his part. He watched as Moira walked off a plot of grass, taking giant steps. She took a piece of paper from her pocket and borrowed his pencil, and when she was through there was a drawing of a long run, metal stakes three feet apart.

Together, they pounded in the first two stakes while the sun rose higher. Pauline ran under the shade of the tree and sat watching them. Arthur looked up once to see Uncle Wrisby, leaning on his hoe, watching too.

“Is it lunchtime yet?” whispered Arthur, wiping his forehead.

Moira straightened up and made shades out of her hands, looking at the sun.

“I’d say,” she said, sounding very much like Uncle Wrisby, “it looks about ten o’clock.”

Arthur sighed.

“Not lunchtime,” he said. And they pounded in two more stakes, rested, then measured, then pounded in two more. Then it was lunchtime.

Bernadette lay in the far corner of the paddock as they passed by. Arthur climbed up on the wooden fence to look at her, Moira beside him. Pauline flew up and settled between them.

“Bernadette,” Arthur called. “You are going to have a new grassy pen all your own.”

Bernadette didn’t move. She twitched her tail to scare away a fly, but she didn’t even open her eyes.

“You ungrateful old sow,” murmured Arthur, making Moira laugh.

“Do you want a thank-you, Mouse?” she teased. She peered closer at him. “Is that what you’re looking for?”

“Arthur,” said Arthur, suddenly cross. “I told you I’d do something. I’m doing it.” He climbed down from the fence and walked to the house, wondering just what it was that he did want. But most of all, throughout the quiet lunch with Moira, Arthur wondered why he was building the pen for Bernadette.

Moreover was in the paddock when Arthur and Moira came outside again. He felt Bernadette’s sides, putting his ear next to her bristly skin, listening. He looked up to see Arthur and Moira standing next to him.

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