Wart Page 4

  "Yeah? How?" Ham was munching something that sounded like chips.

  It all came tumbling out. "Ms. Gibbs looks real good, drop-dead gorgeous even! And the kid! His room's all done in black and red with bones and Dracula." Ham tried to say something, but Stewart went on talking. "But listen. I haven't told you the big thing yet. He claims she is a witch! Ozgood said it, and he might be a frog. Martha says don't worry, but I'm worried plenty!"

  "I didn't get all that," said Ham. "Hold on. I need some dip."

  While Ham was gone, Stewart took long deep breaths, and he felt calmer when Ham picked up the phone again. "The main thing is," he told Ham, "this kid is real strange. You wouldn't believe how he talks, like some old school teacher. He plays creepy music and has bones in his room."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. But the big thing is that he claims his mother is a witch who plans to use a spell to make my father marry her."

  "Wow! What are you going to do?"

  "Well, there isn't a TV. Guess I'll just hang around, play on my Game Boy, and wait for Dad to come back."

  "No." Ham sounded aggravated. "I mean what are you planning to do about the witch and your dad?"

  "Ham!" It was Stewart's turn to be aggravated. "You don't believe that stuff?"

  "Well, I don't know." There was a pause while he chewed. "You know something, I think I kind of do. There's something about that woman."

  A sort of chill came over Stewart. "I better go check on the kid," he said, and he hung up the phone.

  No sound came from Ozgood's room. Stewart wandered back down the stairs and stretched out on the couch. Determined not to think about Wanda the witch and her little warlock, he decided to daydream about Taylor Montgomery. In the dream he needed her to be about to marry some dismal fellow. Oh, Brad Wilson would work. He was down on Brad after the Wart thing and the comment about why he made the team. Anyway, he was pretty sure Brad really did like Taylor too. All the boys did. Okay, Brad is a miserable bag boy at a grocery store. It isn't clear why Taylor is about to marry him, but she is until tragedy strikes. Taylor comes down with a terrible brain tumor, and no one thinks surgery can save her. Stewart, who is the top brain surgeon in the world is called in to operate.

  Brad gets all teary eyed and begs Stewart to forgive him for the Wart calling. He also begs Stewart not to charge much because being a bag boy does not pay much. Just before Taylor is put under, Stewart takes her head in his hands and looks long into her beautiful blue eyes. "Stewart," she murmurs, "I know now that I always loved you." They kiss and then he performs this miraculous surgery. All the female nurses get down on their knees and kiss Stewart's hand. Taylor recovers. Stewart and Taylor get married, and he arranges with the grocery store owner to make Brad an inside stock boy, which is a real step up.

  He was just at the place where Taylor's hair was growing back when he heard the car. Dad and Ms. Gibbs were home. He jumped up because his feet were on the couch. Then he stood there, all nervous, while they came in.

  "We're back," Dad announced when they stepped inside, and Stewart was shocked to see that they were holding hands.

  Stewart, anxious to get all the good-byes and thank-yous said, edged toward the door. When they were in the car, he unloaded on his father. "That Ozgood is a real space cadet." He slumped down in the seat, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

  "Interested in space, huh?" Dad obviously wasn't really listening.

  "No," Stewart sat up and made his voice very distinct. "I mean he is out in space, loony, not in touch with reality."

  "Wanda mentioned that he is going through a sort of hard time." Dad was fiddling with the radio.

  "Hard time!" Stewart was practically yelling. "He claims his mother is a witch."

  "Really?" This wasn't like Dad. He always paid attention when Stewart was serious. "You know, son, you could be a big help to a boy like that, a sort of..." He paused for a minute. "A sort of big brother."

  Stewart slid back down on the seat and closed his eyes, but he certainly did not sleep. He had to think, had to plan. Man! He had never wanted Dad to get serious about Martha, good old regular librarian Martha. At this point he would dance at his father's wedding if he would marry Martha. He had to do something to stop this romance. Now!

  They were almost home before Stewart found the strength to talk again. "Dad, doesn't it bother Martha at all, you taking out Ms. Gibbs?"

  They were turning into the driveway. "No," said Dad. "Martha is such a sensible woman. Says she always knew things wouldn't work out between us because you kids didn't want me to get serious."

  "I like Martha." His voice sounded desperate. "So does Georgy." Boy did he like Martha. "Dad," he said, "I was wrong to complain about you and Martha. You have your life to lead."

  His father stopped the car. "I'm glad you feel that way, Stew, because I am going to tell you straight out. There is something special about Wanda. Something I can't quite put into words, but I haven't felt this way for a very long time."

  His father got out then, but Stewart sat still until his dad called him. He felt too tired to open the door and was amazed that he could actually climb the stairs. He went straight to bed. All night he dreamed about Dracula and frogs.

  The next day he felt better. Probably, he told himself, he had gotten all worked up over nothing. It was a pretty regular day at first. Dad went after Georgia about midmorning, but instead of coming into the house, she went next door, where Rachel sat on her front porch playing with the puppies. Rachel's Dalmatian, Molly Dot, had four puppies. Molly Dot was not an ordinary dog. Rachel had taught her all sorts of tricks and was hoping Molly Dot would win a talent show a big pet store was holding the day after Thanksgiving. The audience would hold little voting machines. Rachel planned to have Georgia hold one of the puppies up front while Molly Dot performed because that might appeal to the audience.

  Stewart could see Rachel's front porch from his window, and he decided to join the girls. Dad had promised Georgia he would buy one of the puppies, called Little Dots by Rachel, for her birthday in early December. Stewart and Georgia spent lots of time trying to decide which Dot she wanted.

  "I like this one best, maybe. Look, I think he's got more dots," said Georgia, and she held up a squirming black-and-white puppy. The puppies had been born white, getting their spots only as they got a little older.

  "Let's don't decide until they're a little bigger," said Stewart, and he took the warm little body from his sister's hands. "This one is nice, though, but maybe we ought to see them run first."

  "Dalmatians aren't racing dogs," said Rachel. "What difference does it make how they run? They aren't greyhounds."

  Stewart didn't answer. Sometimes Rachel got on his nerves. Why did he have to live next door to her all his life? Wouldn't it have been wonderful to live next to Taylor Montgomery?

  After a while, Ham came from around the corner. He carried a basketball under his arm. "Want to shoot some baskets?" he asked Stewart. The boys went back to Stewart's driveway to use the hoop up over the garage door.

  Ham wasn't great, but Stewart was terrible. Only two of his first fifteen shots went into the basket. He felt sweaty and nervous. He had to get better.

  Rachel left Georgia with the puppies and came over to stand near where the boys played. "Stewart," she said, "why do you break your neck trying so hard at basketball? Do you really like it that much? I mean, you don't have to be an athlete."

  "Yes, Rachel, I like it that much." Stewart aimed the ball at the hoop, but he considered throwing it at Rachel.

  "Okay, Wart," she said. "I just wondered."

  "Don't call me that, Rachel Thomas. Don't you ever call me that again!"

  "Boy, are you getting touchy." Rachel went back to the puppies.

  Stewart was glad when his father called them for lunch. At least he was glad until the announcement. Stewart had finished one tuna sandwich and was reaching for another, when his father said, "Wanda has invited us all over for dinner tonight." Suddenly,
Stewart couldn't eat another sandwich. He carried his dishes to the dishwasher, then went upstairs to wait for Georgia. He would try his little sister one more time. When he heard her on the stairs, he went to the door to motion her toward his room.

  He led her into his room, closed the door, and pointed her toward the desk chair. He sat on the edge of his bed that was near her. "Listen," he told her. "Dad is getting pretty serious about that woman, and she's got the creepiest little kid you can imagine. His name is Ozgood." Stewart twisted his face. "Isn't that a disgusting name? If Dad marries Ms. Gibbs, that little fart will be our brother. You won't get anything you want ever again. You will be just like Cinderella. 'Bring me my breakfast in bed,' Ozgood will say, and you will run up with it. Tick up my dirty socks/ he will yell, and you will run to get them. Your little legs will be so tired." Stewart looked down at Georgia and saw a tiny tear on her cheek. Encouraged, he went on. "Dad will be too busy with his new son's problems to notice either of us. And of course there won't be any money for new little ponies or dolls because Ozgood eats an awful lot and probably has to go to a head doctor every Thursday."

  Georgia jumped from her chair. "What can we do to stop Daddy from getting a marriage?" Her lips pressed together, ready for a fight.

  "Scream," he said. "Refuse to go to her house. Say you want Martha for a new mommy. Say you are afraid of Ms. Gibbs." Stewart was beginning to be pleased with himself. He would not just sit and watch while his father ruined all their lives.

  "But you always told me we didn't want a new mommy at all," said Georgia.

  "Well," said Stewart. "That was before Wanda Gibbs came to town on her broom. Now Martha seems pretty good."

  Stewart sent Georgia down the stairs, and he waited at the top, just out of sight, but close enough to hear. She didn't go right into the screaming. The kid is really smart, Stewart thought. "Daddy," she said real soft. "Can we just stay home tonight? I'm feeling awful sad inside."

  Stewart could imagine his Dad putting down his paper to look at Georgia. "Why baby?" he said. "Why do you feel sad?"

  "I'm afraid you like Ms. Gibbs better than me," she said.

  Oh, that's good, Stewart thought, and he smiled. The kid has really got it. "Of course, not," Dad said. Stewart inched down the stairs so that he could see what was going on. Georgia sat on the floor leaning against Dad's leg as he sat in his favorite chair. Dad was patting her head. "You and Stewart are the most important people in my life, always."

  "Can we just stay home tonight then? You and us important people and fix some popcorn and watch a movie? Please, Daddy."

  "Well." He was weakening. Stewart could hear it in his voice. "I wonder if Wanda has started to cook yet."

  "Call her, Daddy. Tell her your little girl needs you." Georgia sounded like she might start to cry.

  Dad stood up and started for the phone, but just then the doorbell rang. Stewart's hopes took a nosedive when he saw Ms. Gibbs. "I was in the neighborhood," she explained, "when I got this idea that Georgia might want to come on to my house early and help me fix dinner." She was smiling, and Stewart saw his little sister inching closer to the woman.

  Stewart ran down the stairs and grabbed Georgia by the arm. "You were going to help me with that special project, remember?" He gave her a threatening look and a little jerk toward him.

  "Oh yeah. I forgot." She didn't sound too sure, but she looked up at Ms. Gibbs. "Besides Daddy was going to call—"

  "Wait, now, Georgia," Dad interrupted her. "Helping Wanda cook dinner might be a lot of fun."

  Ms. Gibbs dropped down to her knees. She was wearing her same necklace, and she started to finger it as she talked. "Actually, I'm sort of lonely." She was looking right into Georgia's eyes. "My little boy stays in his room so much. I could use a little girl for company."

  "Oh!" Georgia clapped her hands. " I love to be company!" Georgia was jumping up and down.

  "But Georgia, what about helping me, remember?" Stewart squeezed her arm, but she pulled away.

  "I'll help you later, Stew," she said.

  Before Stewart could think what to do, they were heading toward the door. "Open the door for Wanda and your sister," his father called.

  Wanda brushed against Stewart's shoulder as she went out. "Thank you, Wart," she said softly.

  • THREE •

  Stewart and his father spent a few hours working on algebra. It felt good to be working with Dad. Stewart remembered what Martha had said about how he should trust his father. She had called Dad a strong, intelligent man. Surely Dad wouldn't get too involved with the Gibbses. Stewart felt pretty good until they were on their way across town to Ms. Gibbs's house.

  Dad was half singing and half humming. Stewart didn't know the name of the song, but every once in a while he caught the word love, which made him very uncomfortable. Stewart hunched beside his door and stayed absolutely quiet.

  Ms. Gibbs and the little traitor met them at the door. Georgia was just as pleased with herself as she could be. "Wanda let me put things in! Salt and cheese and everything." Stewart got the picture of his little sister and a witch in black clothing stirring a big black cauldron like the ones in Halloween posters. The witch had Ms. Gibbs's face. Stop that, he told himself.

  His dad got really close to Ms. Gibbs to say hello. For one terrible minute Stewart thought his father was going to kiss her right there in front of everyone. His expression must have been pretty sour because Ms. Gibbs came over and touched his shoulder.

  Her green eyes were dancing, and she gave the boy a wide smile. "Cheer up, Stewart. You look like a prisoner about to have his last meal."

  He felt that way too. Feed me, he thought, then finish me off. Ozgood came in just as they were about to sit down and took a chair beside Stewart. "I am undone," he whispered. Stewart looked down at his pants, but they were zipped just fine. Then he remembered "undone" was an old way of saying a person was in a real trouble.

  When Stewart saw the food, though, he forgot about Ozgood and all his other problems for a minute. It was wonderful—lasagna, tiny green peas with onions, a great salad, and hot bread that smelled heavenly. Stewart's mouth was watering until his father said, "Lasagna! How did you know that's my favorite?"

  Stewart's throat went dry, and all he wanted was water. "I made a lucky choice, didn't I?" Wanda said. She leaned toward James Wright and smiled sweetly, but as Stewart reached for his glass, he caught the look she threw at Ozgood. It wasn't a sweet smile.

  Stewart gave himself a little talking to. Come on, he thought, forget it all and chow down. You don't get a chance at food like this very often. So he dug in. Sometimes, though, right in the middle of a wonderful mouthful, the phrase, prisoner's last meal would flash through his head. Still, he ate two helpings of everything.

  When it was time for dessert, Ms. Gibbs brought in a big cherry pie. "Wow!" Dad had a huge grin on his face. "You must have magic powers. Cherry is my all-time favorite."

  Ozgood let out a strained little cough and poked Stewart. "Ozgood," said his mother, do you need to leave the table?" This time Stewart was certain of the dirty look Ozgood's mother sent her son.

  "I am recovered," Ozgood said, but when Ms. Gibbs's back was turned to serve the pie, he leaned close to Stewart. "Woe is me," he whispered. "She knows I have betrayed her."

  Stewart wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Here was this little wimp of a kid who said things like, "I am undone," and "Woe is me." It would have been hilarious except that he had this horrible feeling that his dad was going to get them all mixed up with the little fruitcake and his wacky mother. Wacky Wanda, he thought. Then he changed it to Wanda the Witch. Alliteration! His English teacher would have been proud of him. But even making up names for her didn't improve his mood. Oh, he wasn't really taking the witch business seriously, he told himself, but he knew Wanda and Ozgood were too weird for his straitlaced dad and his two motherless children. Boy, was he sorry he hadn't warmed up more to the idea of his father and Martha getting married.


  After dinner, Stewart thought maybe they'd hang around for just a little while, then go home. Of course, it didn't work like that. "I think Wanda and I will go out for a while and hear some music. You kids could watch some TV or something," Dad said.

  They were in the kitchen, everyone pitching in on the dishes. Stewart turned to his father, "I was hoping to get in some more algebra study." Stewart thought Dad would be impressed, but he just laughed. "Besides," he added, "there isn't a TV downstairs."

  "Oh, I should have told you last night." Wanda was bent over to put away pots and pans. She straightened and looked at him. "There's a TV in the game room."

  He left the kitchen and went to the room behind the dining room. The door was open, but he couldn't remember it being open when he'd been in the living room the night before. He stepped into what had been an empty room. The first thing he saw was a pool table at one end of the room. At the other end stood a cozy arrangement of a couch and two chairs, centered around a big-screen TV. It was one of those thin ones, and the screen was huge. This was crazy. This room had been totally empty last night. Why hadn't Ms. Gibbs just said the stuff had arrived today? A person would think she had just zapped it up.

  "I never thought Mother would allow a television in her house. She hates some of the silly witch things they have on. Guess she wanted to go out rather fiercely." Ozgood stood in the doorway behind Stewart. "I've never seen one so large." He walked around Stewart and went over to examine it like he was seeing the thing for the first time. He picked up the remote and pushed a button. "There," he said triumphantly when it came on.

  Georgia came in rubbing her eyes, tired from the sleepover the night before. "I'm just going to rest my eyes a little bit." She stretched out on the couch and was asleep immediately. Great, Stewart thought, he was headed for another evening alone with weirdo Ozgood.

  It didn't take his dad and Wanda long to finish in the kitchen. Stewart could see that they seemed eager to dump the kids and be gone. "You guys have fun," Dad said, and Stewart grunted.