Lavender-Green Magic by Andre Norton Read Free Book Online Page B

forehead.
    â€œAll right.” Holly wanted to stay where she was. Only fear of what might happen with Grandma (who she was now sure missed seeing very little) got her to her feet, down the stairs, and brought her behind Judy, who was bubbling over with descriptions of what they had found and what could be done with it.
    Mrs. Dale was pleasant, Holly had to admit, though she begrudged even that much of a surrender. The boys burrowing into the junk Grandpa and Crock had brought out said “Hello” in an offhand way, as if they did not really see her. But boys always acted like that. Holly was more noticing of one thing—they were all white.
    What if there were no blacks in the new school? Would that make a difference? Who could Judy and she be friends with? She wasn’t going to push in where she wasn’t wanted. And she must see that Judy didn’t either. All the time that she talked politely to Mrs. Dale, as Mom had taught her, Holly wondered and worried. She couldn’t come right outand ask, somehow. Only how she wished there were some way of knowing.
    The thought of the new school and what it might mean was in Holly’s mind all during the weekend. On Sunday they went to church with Grandma and Grandpa, but that was not to a town church. They took a longer drive, over the river, to what had once been an old one-room schoolhouse. There were all Grandma and Grandpa’s old friends, and most of them were old, also. There weren’t too many of them, and the minister they called Brother Williams, he was really an old man. No children except some who weren’t more than babies or others who were grown up—or thought they were. It seemed to Holly a very queer kind of church, and without Mom there—
    In the afternoon, for want of something better to do, they explored Grandma’s library. Sure enough, there were some old books supposed to be for children. Judy fastened on a Nancy Drew mystery that had lost one cover and had a lot of pages mended with Scotch tape. Crock found a pile of
National Geographics
. But Holly, feeling very dull and unhappy, pulled out books listlessly, glanced at them, and shoved them back on the shelves again. She finally discovered a very battered copy of what seemed to be six magazines bound together. The title on the stained red cover could hardly be read, but she made out the words “St. Nicholas.” Inside, the pages were stained and mended, and the pictures were very queer. But it was very old because the date also appearing inside was 1895. She turned over the pages, trying not to tear them any more, until it was suppertime.
    Monday morning they were up when it was still dark and had a chilly walk down to the lane’s end, to wait there for the school bus. They waited so long that Holly began to hope the driver had forgotten their stop and they would have another day’s reprieve.
    But the bus came at last and they got in. The seats were crowded, there was nothing to do but push toward the back, facing all the strangers, who stared at them as they went. Crock saw one of the Cub Scouts, who hailed him, and he sat down there. But Judy and Holly had to go to the very end. Holly was sure her worst fears were proven true. There was not a single black child there.
    â€œJudy.” She caught at her sister’s elbow, gave it a hard squeeze to ensure Judy was listening. “You be careful—”
    â€œCareful about what, Holly?”
    â€œDon’t you see? These are all whites, they may not like us. Don’t push, Judy, don’t you look as if you want to be friends unless they’re friendly first. You be good and careful. They—they may say things—”
    â€œWhat kind of things?”
    â€œWell, that we live in a dump, and we’re different, things like that.”
    Some of the brightness faded from Judy’s face. She looked anxious. “But that boy—he called to Crock to sit with