Felix let out a low whistle. “Cool,” he said.
Meelie smiled at him. With her shiny, white teeth and all those freckles, Felix thought she was one of the cutest girls he’d ever met. He didn’t know many girls as brave or adventurous as Meelie. She didn’t hesitate to put a worm on a hook or pick up a garter snake and examine it closely. Let’s try! seemed to be her favorite thing to say. And she read everything. At night, she came into the shed with a flashlight and books for her and Felix and they lay side by side reading while Maisie grumbled about wanting to go to sleep.
“I bet you found those yourself, didn’t you, Meelie?” Felix asked admiringly.
Maisie rolled her eyes. “It’s not such a big deal to find moths,” she said. She’d seen dozens of them sticking to the screen door almost every night.
“It’s a big deal to find these three kinds,” Meelie said.
“Right,” Maisie said, “they’re very rare.”
“They are!” Pidge said. “Meelie looked them up in the encyclopedia and it said in there that these are very rare moths.”
“I think they’re . . .” Felix struggled for an adjective that Meelie would like. “Impressive!” he said.
Just then, Meelie’s mother called to them from the kitchen. She had no idea that Maisie and Felix slept in the shed every night and assumed they were neighborhood kids. All she ever said was how glad she was that Meelie and Pidge had made some friends.
The four children walked through the big parlor with its fancy couch and chairs. The couch had lace doilies on the back that Meelie called “antimacassars.” Fancy word for doilies, Maisie had said, and Meelie explained that “macassar” was a pomade men wore in their hair and antimacassars kept the stuff off the upholstery. Now, every time they walked into the parlor Felix said that word to himself.
It was so much cooler in the house that Maisie would have been happy to stay indoors. But Meelie liked being outside, so outside they stayed. If Pidge complained she was hot and wanted to go inside, Meelie scolded her. “Pidge, it’s summer! You’ll wish we could play outside once winter comes and then it will be too late!” Through the dining room with its heavily polished table, was a large vase of fresh flowers in the center flanked by heavy silver candlesticks, and a high china cupboard filled with fancy dishes and serving pieces.
Then into the kitchen, where Meelie and Pidge’s mother stood over a freshly plucked chicken.
She didn’t look up when they entered, but started to talk to them right away.
“I was just about to cut up this chicken and I realized what a good science lesson it would be to have you watch.”
Meelie and Pidge stood on either side of their mother, peering at the chicken with wide-eyed curiosity. But Maisie and Felix held back. The kitchen smelled mostly of the apple pie Meelie and Pidge’s mother had just baked, but behind the apple and cinnamon smell came the faint odor of blood. That chicken has just been killed, Felix thought with disgust.
“Look how beautifully her little lungs fit above her little heart,” their mother said as if she were looking at a piece of art. “Isn’t she lovely?”
“Yes, Mama!” Pidge said enthusiastically. “She’s a beauty!”
“Does our heart fit over our lungs like that, Mama?” Meelie asked, pressing her hand to her chest.
Her mother nodded, pleased. “Exactly, Meelie. Who knew we could learn so much from Sunday’s supper?”
“Speaking of Sunday . . . ,” Meelie began.
Her mother pretended to look confused. “Tomorrow? That Sunday?”
“Don’t tease!” Meelie said.
“What’s happening tomorrow?” Maisie asked. Maybe something interesting, she hoped.
“Something really, really great,” Pidge said, grinning.
“We’re going to the state fair!” Meelie announced happily. “Mama, can we take Felix and Maisie with us?”
“I don’t see why not,” her mother said.
The state fair? Maisie thought. She imagined pigs and cows and pie-eating contests, none of which sounded the least bit interesting.
Felix loved the fair. He loved all the animals with their big, blue ribbons. He loved all the farmers with their vegetables—corn and giant tomatoes and deep orange carrots with the greens still on. He loved the women standing proudly beside their homemade pies, a dizzying array of lattice and double crusts, berries and cherries and custards, streusel toppings, and shiny pecans or walnuts.
But Maisie thought it was boring to look at smelly animals or stare at a bunch of food you couldn’t even eat. Plus, the day had gone from very warm to hot, and the fairgrounds offered little shade. And all Meelie and Pidge wanted to do was ride the merry-go-round, again and again, changing which brightly painted horse they sat on each time.
She was relieved when the girls’ father showed up and asked them to come with him.
“I have the most amazing thing to show you,” he said.