A lot has been going on at Anne Hutchinson Elementary School. For one thing, there are new kids. Twins! For another thing, Maisie got the lead in the play, which is The Crucible. (Maybe you are also reading this play? I like to think that sixth grades everywhere are doing the exact same thing, even in Cleveland.)
And now we are beginning a unit on the Renaissance. We have to make masks with Ms. Silva and food with Mrs. Witherspoon and put on an entire fair. To tell you the truth, I kind of stopped listening during the assembly because so much is going on at Elm Medona. The biggest thing, the worst thing, is that Great-Uncle Thorne is in the intensive care unit of the hospital. My mother said it doesn’t look good.
I know I have not been a good friend. I haven’t stayed in touch the way I promised. Because I don’t have an e-mail address, I couldn’t e-mail you. But I could have written a real letter, like I’m doing now. Still, I think about you at least once every day. Sometimes even more.
Lily, Renaissance means rebirth. So now I am trying to be reborn as a better friend.
Felix Robbins
PS Did you notice the red seal on the back of this envelope???????
PPS I hope you write back.
“Once,” Jim Duncan said as he and Maisie and Felix walked to school the next day, “my family went to Florence. We spent three weeks in Italy. One in Rome. One in Venice. One in Florence.”
“That’s nice,” Felix said, but he couldn’t really listen. He could only think about the letter he mailed to Lily Goldberg in Cleveland last night. Part of him wished he hadn’t mailed it. The other part wished she’d answer back as soon as she got it.
“Our father studied art in Florence when he was in college,” Maisie said to Jim Duncan.
She wasn’t really listening, either. She was thinking about how yesterday their father came to Elm Medona after they finished their homework and brought them out to the Thai place on Thames Street for dinner. She was thinking about how much she liked having her father so near.
Maybe Mom would like some Thai food, too? she’d suggested as they walked down Memorial Boulevard.
She has to work late, he’d said, and Maisie couldn’t figure out if he was sad about that or not.
And of course, underneath these thoughts, Maisie and Felix both couldn’t stop thinking about Great-Uncle Thorne.
“I was only seven,” Jim Duncan said. “But I remember some things. Like how hot it was in the Uffizi and how big the David is.”
“Uh-huh,” Felix said, to be polite. He knew the David was a sculpture by Michelangelo, because his father had a big book about Michelangelo with the David on the cover.
“The Uffizi’s a huge museum,” Jim Duncan said. He sighed. “It took practically forever to go through the thing.”
Felix smiled, despite how heavy his heart felt. Jim Duncan had a way of telling him things without sounding like a know-it-all.
“Hey,” Jim Duncan said, “I forgot to tell you. Guess who was in Newport this weekend?”
Felix shrugged.
“Lily Goldberg!” Jim Duncan said. “I saw her and her mother on Bowen’s Wharf at the chowder place. I guess they had to finish up something about selling their house.”
“What?” Felix said. “She was here?”
Jim Duncan immediately realized his mistake. “Well, maybe it wasn’t her.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“Well, maybe.”
“I can’t believe she was in Newport and didn’t even tell me. I mean, us,” Felix said, images of that letter crowding his brain. He thought about how carefully he’d written out her address, how he’d melted the red sealing wax on the back and pressed the seal into it.
Felix groaned. “I can’t believe it,” he said again.
Anne Hutchinson Elementary School appeared up ahead. Felix didn’t think he could make it through the whole day at school. How could he listen to Ms. Silva and Miss Landers and everybody talking about the Renaissance while that stupid letter was on its way to Cleveland?
“I . . . I think I’m going to turn around,” Felix said.
“What does that mean?” Maisie asked him.
“It means I think I’m going to go home. I think I’m sick.”
“You can’t just go home,” Maisie said. “You at least have to go to the nurse and have her call Mom.”
“I’ll walk you to the nurse,” Jim Duncan offered. By the look on his face, Felix could tell how awful he felt.
“No, it’s okay. Thanks,” Felix stammered. “I’m just going to go home.”
Maisie and Jim looked at each other.
“Well . . . ,” Jim said, because he didn’t know what to say.
“Are you going to throw up or something?” Maisie asked.
“Yes,” Felix lied, and clutched his stomach to be convincing.