Camilla by Madeleine L'Engle Read Free Book Online

brocade seats and the beautiful map on the wall—a map of America made long ago when most of the continent was unknown territory. “I just wanted to see what kind of mother you would have,” she said.
    â€œWell, come on in my room,” I told her. She followed me in and stood looking around there, too, still twisting her gloves in her nice bony fingers. Luisa is very thin; she is even thinner than I am.
    â€œCamilla,” Luisa said, “your mother is wonderful, isn’t she?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œShe understands things, doesn’t she? You can talk to her.”
    â€œYes.” Because I could, then. I could talk to Mother about anything, although when I was little it was always Father who gave me a sense of strength and security. It was as though Mother and I were sisters who played all kinds of wonderful games together, but Father was the parent who had the power to make things all right.
    Luisa threw her gloves on my bed and scowled down at my pillow and said, “I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to go back there tonight.”
    â€œDo you want to spend the night with me?” I asked.
    â€œDon’t be silly,” Luisa said. “That wouldn’t be any good. Things have come to a pretty pass, haven’t they, when I have to say I don’t want to go back, ever ever ever!” She said each “ever” louder, and on the last one she took off her hat and threw it on the floor. “I’m so unhappy!” she said.
    I sat down at the foot of my bed and my room seemed suddenly full of something it had never contained before. I had cried there, had even had tantrums there when I was very little, but the room had never seemed full to the point of explosion the way it did now with Luisa jerking off her plaid scarf, her brown tweed coat, and stamping and shaking her head to keep from bursting into tears.
    â€œIt was a bad day for you, Camilla Dickinson, when you said you’d be my friend,” she said in a harsh voice. “I’ll drag you through the depths with me. All our family are like that.We’re terrible to our friends. But we do care about them. We love them. Truly we do.” For a moment her lips quivered and she turned away so that I could not see her face.
    â€œThey’re being polite, now,” she said. “Mona and Bill. My mother and father. It’s worst of all when they’re polite. When they shout and throw things it’s bad, but it’s not nearly as bad because when they care enough about each other to slap and hit and scream, they really must love each other, don’t you think? Frank and I have terrible fights, but if he died I think I’d die too. But when they’re polite, then I really get frightened. Camilla, I’m so afraid they’ll get a divorce. And what do you suppose would happen to Frank and me if they did? Bill would probably take Frank and Mona would take me, and I like Bill better than Mona even if he is awful to her. Anyhow, it’s better being together just anyhow than it would be to be separated. Why don’t you say something?”
    I sat there at the foot of my bed and I didn’t know what to say. I thought that Luisa would hate me and would never bother with me again because I was so stupid. I wanted terribly to say something that would be wise and strong, and then I knew with finality that there was nothing for me to say, nothing at all.
    Then we heard the front door slam and my mother came running down the hall to my room, crying, “Camilla darling, where are you?” She came bursting into my room and stopped short when she saw Luisa. She smiled at Luisa as though she were terribly pleased to see her, and said, “Why, hello!”
    â€œThis is Luisa Rowan, Mother,” I said. “Luisa, this is my mother.”
    My mother smiled at Luisa again and dumped a big boxon my bed. “Darling, I brought you two new skirts and two