The Mighty Miss Malone by Christopher Paul Curtis Read Free Book Online

he’s thinking hard about what he’s going to say.
    “You’ve already fallen in love with this dress and these shoes, right?”
    “I do like them a awful lot.”
    Jimmie/Father put the invisible pipe back in his mouth, nodded and said, “We’ll say that’s close enough to love to be worried. So we have to look at the cons-or-quenches of what you want to do. Let’s say you show ’em to your mother and she decides you have to give ’em back, what then? You’ve lost your new clothes, just like that.” He snapped his fingers.
    I hadn’t thought of that.
    Jimmie uncrossed his legs, leaned forward and flicked ashes from his pipe onto the floor.
    He’s such a good actor that I almost yelled at him for messing up the floor that I’d swept.
    He waved the pipe in front of himself. “My suggestion, Darling Daughter Deza, is to decide which of the two things you like the most and show Mother the other one. That way, if shesays take it back, you’ve only lost one and can sneak around with the other.”
    “Thank you, Jimmie, or Father—whoever you are. That sounds like a good idea.”
    Not really, but that is a kind thing to say to someone who’s a great singer, a good imitator and full of more baloney than Mr. Schwartz’s butcher shop.

    I sat on my bed upstairs. I’d spread the dress next to me and set the shoes on the floor. They were so beautiful!
    I wished I hadn’t told Jimmie. Before I’d talked to him I’d thought I’d just run into my bedroom, secretly put the clothes on and show Mother my special new dress and the magic clickity-clackity shoes.
    Mother would say something like, “Oh, Deza! You are so beautiful!”
    If Jimmie wasn’t around she’d even say, “And look how tall you are in those new shoes!”
    As I smoothed my fingers over the dress I started having worries. Maybe I
should
show her only my shoes … no, maybe only my dress.…
    My other brain said, “He’s right, you know, kiddo.…”
    And just like that, I
did
know. If the bad brain was agreeing with him then Jimmie was wrong.
    I gave myself a good soapy wash and smoothed my hair back with a little Vaseline. I put baking soda in my palm and brushed my teeth. I rubbed some more of the Vaseline into my legs and arms till they were nice and shiny. I put on the newslip, the socks and shoes. Then, being extra careful not to get any Vaseline on it, I slid the most beautiful piece of blue gingham clothes ever made over my head.
    The mirror in the bathroom is really tiny so I reached up on my tiptoes, pulled it off the nail above the washbasin and moved it up and down so I could see every part of me.
    The dress was gorgeous!
    I walked back to my room on my tiptoes so the shoes wouldn’t click-clack and ruin my surprise. I picked up
Great Expectations
, sat on the bed, smoothed my dress, crossed my ankles and started reading.
    I hadn’t read five pages when I heard the screen door open downstairs and Mother said, “Hello, James, how was school?”
    My heart beat so loud I didn’t hear Jimmie’s answer. I opened my door and clacked down the steps.
    Mother said, “What is that sound …?”
    I stepped into the living room.
    Mother stumbled back till her legs hit the couch and she crashed down on it. One of the paper sacks she’d been carrying split open. A big loaf of cheese and a box of powdered milk bounced off of the couch.
    Her hand covered her mouth and she said, “Deza! Turn around …,” and I knew by the happy look on her face that she wasn’t going to take my new clothes away!
    I spun until my dress blossomed and became a beautiful blue-and-white rose!
    Jimmie started clapping and whistling.
    I finally fell on the couch next to Mother. I told her how Mrs. Needham said she’d been waiting a thousand years forme to be her student and how she was going to tutor me next year.
    Mother said, “I’m not the least bit surprised, your father and I always tell both of you how talented you are. It feels like Christmas in July